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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Arts · #1717087
Fiery feelings?
Parties. Overbearing, loud, drunken and over all just plain annoying. Who needs them?

Only the person with more mouth than mind, fullfilling their desperate needs to feel content in their cosy social circle.

Bangings, crashing and blind unfullfilling sex? Disgusting.

In excatly one of theses foul venom collecting snake pits, i found my true desire.

And for once, it wasn't to drown on the spot.

It was him.



Feeling all of a sudden incredibly caustraphobic, I sucked in all the possible surrounding moist air. I think i nearly chocked. Tasting more than i bargined for, smoke, body odor and possible illegal substances. I had to, I got to make my move, or there would be no other day, no other time, no other place. Unless i suddenly became one of thoses annoying stalkers you see on tv. Always following their trail or sniffing their most precious and exspensive underwear. I lifted up my butch like shoulders, feeling the empowerment of a 70's porn star, though in reality looking more like a two star rated hooker, i prowled across the wasted people, who have nothing better to do with their lives than waste it here in this hell pot. Eyes, transfixed on... on this beast. I felt fire rumble from the my dark souls i had never felt before. Smiling crazily like a devil cat, i had him where i needed him. He was mine, i am going to make him feel more uncomfortable than he ever felt.



I could see him staring at me, watching my every move. Transfixed and stone cold, his face was stuck in a horrified glare, his soft worried eyes revealing his vunrability. I had him where i wanted. It felt like hours before i had reached his chair, where he sat slumped in a corner like a small mouse that the house cat had just pounced. Sneakily in a rat kind of way, he scatted for the door, but grabbing his weedy, small and sickly shoulder i slammed him back in his chair and leaned my face forward, almost to the point of our noses touched.

breathing in slightly, i wispered in his ear. I could feel his heart beating. I wispered " You stole my work. I know it was you. I want it back".
© Copyright 2010 Amy. R.S Thompson (thefishwish1 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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