rachelleneveu | Short Nonsense, Feel Free to Ignore (Reply)

Okay, so this is part-something new I've started, part-terrible attempt at mimicking nombrehetomado in her brilliance at short fiction/being incredibly direct in her writing and also, excellent. These probably won't ever go anywhere, like, actual story-wise, but here we are all the same: five drabbles, each 100 words long, and basically an attempt at keeping myself sane in the midst of all the end-of-semester madness I've got going on. Prompts are from Set #12 over on infinite_muses. I will be working through some of the other sets they have posted over the next few months, after I finish up papers and before/between starting my summer classes. Probably after all that, too.

Lightening:

They're catching up over coffee when her phone buzzes on the table and Laurie excuses herself, checks her messages while Bonnie sips her tea. There's a text from Joe, and it's a picture of a sign he saw on the job he thought she'd find funny. It's stupid, she knows it, but she laughs under her breath and Bonnie shakes her head at her, affectionately rolling her eyes.

"What?" she asks, and Bonnie stirs more honey into her tea, shrugging as she says, "You look happy, is all."

Laurie looks down at her coffee, trying not to smile. "I am."

Failure:

"How'd the job hunt go?"

He's sitting on the floor next to the couch, playing with her cat. Silent, discouraged, Laurie walks right past him and over to her bed in the alcove, where she flops face-first onto the mattress and pulls a pillow over her head. He walks over as she's kicking her shoes to the floor; the bed creaks as Joe lies next to her, lifting the pillow so she can breathe.

"C'mon, it couldn't have been all bad, right?"

"You'd think so, and yet..."

He laughs. "Next time'll be better."

"If there even is a next time."

Trust:

The service ends and Bonnie already looks calmer than she did when they arrived; she's smiling more, she doesn't object to Joe coming to brunch. He's waiting for them outside at the bottom of the church steps and Laurie smiles; he made an effort into looking nice, tried to slick his hair down and failed. She appreciates it, anyway.

"Why do you keep going?" he asks as they follow Bonnie down the street to the restaurant. "Like, do you think it's real, or whatever? The God stuff?"

"Faith is tricky." She shrugs. "Sometimes it's just nice to believe in something."

Dark:

They're making out on the couch in her apartment, the lights off, the door locked, and she's already guiding his hands upwards to unhook her bra when she sits back a little to work on his belt. Laurie pouts when he tries to stop her from taking things further, tells him, "Joe, I really need someone to make me feel good right now." She rests her forehead against his, rolls her hips until he groans. "Please," she says, and when he doesn't respond she takes his hand and presses it against her breast, kisses him as she murmurs again, "Please."

Home:

"Sometimes I wish I lived on a farm."

They're watching TV in her apartment, his head resting in her lap. "A farm, huh?" he asks, and Laurie nods. "What kind?"

"A little one, way out where it's quiet, and I'd grow apples so people could pick them with their kids. I'd have a duck pond, too, and a rainbow every afternoon."

"Sounds nice," he chuckles, "Where am I in all this?"

She rubs her thumb against his cheek. "Would you like to come with me?"

"I go where you go," Joe says, matter-of-factly, and Laurie knows he's telling the truth.