Ubertines '07 - The obsequious formal vernacular of professor crap-stain-pants (492 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.76 on 20 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Fungah (View user info) at 2007-01-27 13:07:56 EST
The house was sunlit, and they made love on the stairs.
Silence floated around them, broken only by their quickening, urgent breaths and the fervent creaking of the stairs.
Then it was over.
"Do you love me, Tom?" she asked. His knees were sore and ragged: the carpeting had sloughed away his skin.
"Yes" He gasped. Beads of sweat fell from his face.
She put her arms around him and pulled him closer. He leaned his head forward, resting his chin in the cusp of her neck and shoulders. Gently, he kissed her neck. His hands cupped her breasts.
She pushed him away.
"We have to get dressed" she said
"Why?"
"Because we can't just lie here all night."
"Sure we can"
"You have to work tomorrow."
"I can miss it"
"You have to go."
"Let me stay"
"You know you can't."
It was dark, the sun had set. Helping her up, they climbed the stairs, hand in hand. The stairs creaked, the house was old and it was falling apart.
They found their clothes scattered across her room. They gathered them with downcast eyes.
And then he was on his way out, and oh do you love me? She asked him frantically and he said yes, with all the mixed feelings that evoked and there it was: that almost-shame, as if it was an almost-lie but he always would he told her and she smiled and he held her there and they rocked frantically back and forth in the hallway light and her teeth were like ivory and her hair was like yellow strawberries.
"I love you" she said. He was walking away from the house.
"I love you too" Parting hung between them like a tether as he left.
He walked down the street and his head danced with all those little-thoughts that so often tore through the mind in public solitude and he dragged that bond behind him as he walked.
And then he was home. He took himself to bed and drifted off to sleep with all the firm and righteous convictions of fading wakefulness drifting through his head. Tomorrow he would be a better man. Tomorrow he would buy her flowers. Tomorrow Tom would mow his lawn. Tomorrow Tom would buy some groceries. Tomorrow Tom would stop smoking. Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
The sun came up. It cut through Tom's blinds and into his bedroom.
Then he was cooking breakfast and the smell of sizzling eggs and bacon cut through the still air of his house and he was eating and then he was in the shower and the water cleansed him and purified him and he wiped sleep from his eyes and soap from his body and then he was out the door and he was at work and Tom worked and Tom worked and Tom talked to his co-workers and then it was lunch and the food was terrible and the phone rang.
"Hello?" He said.
"Hi." He could almost see her lying on that leather couch in that Victorian anteroom-now living room, absent-mindedly twirling the cord of her phone with one errant finger, strawberry-blonde hair dappled with sunshine, alone in daylight, anxious and frustrated, kicking one errant leg up and down from the arm-rest in boredom to some unheard rhythm.
"I love you" A giggle and a click. She'd hung up the phone. He smiled and sat back down to lunch. The food was delicious. He finished the food. He worked the rest of the day. He went to the home of the only woman he'd ever loved. They made love on her kitchen table. They fucked in her bedroom.
They had the same conversation as the night before and they put their clothes on with the same downcast eyes and she told him she loved him and he told her he loved her too and he left through the back door and climbed her fence. Somewhere someone was getting out of a car and he whistled as he walked out of her neighbour's backyard. The streetlights were yellow-orange. Chilled night air affirmed life and it tasted like spring. Crickets hummed symphonic all around him as he walked back home.
Tom couldn't sleep at first, but then he did. He woke up to the same slashing rays of sun and he ate the same breakfast and went back to the same office and he ate the same lunch as the day before and after work rushed back to the same house, and made love to the same woman.
"I can't do this anymore" He said to her.
"You seem to be doing a pretty god job of it so far" She panted.
They were naked in her bedroom and there were paintings on her wall, her paintings, and they were tinged with unreality. There was an orange apple, a painting of a sky with black and purple clouds against a vast sea of yellow and then there was her head hung above the headboard: a self portrait she sketched from a photograph once while the two of them sat talking on her living room floor with the blinds closed. That photograph, among others was sitting on a night-table, all of them framed in cheap Wal-mart pewter.
Tom laughed and planted kisses on her neck. She dug her fingernails into his back.
He rolled off of her and she lit a cigarette. She inhaled and blew smoke upwards. The smoke hit the roof and billowed downwards, yellow in lamplight.
"You shouldn't do that" he said to her.
"Neither should you" She said, handing him the cigarette.
Tom inhaled deeply and Tom handed it back. She handed it back to him, and then Tom was on top of her and then they were done and he was clothed and they were at her front door and he was telling her:
"If you make me leave this time I'm never coming back"
"Don't say that Tom"
"I can't keep doing this."
"Please, I need you Tom, just a little while longer. It will only be a little while longer." She asked him if he loved her and he said he didn't know. She stared crying and he took her in his arms and he tried kissing her and she pushed him away and told him to go and he left out the front door and the evening was cold and the moon was hidden behind drifting, obsidian-grey clouds in front of a purple blue-and-black sky.
User Reviews
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2007-01-29 15:51:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I really liked this. There were bits that broke out of the usual, expected narrative form, but I wound up enjoying those the most. Certain sections included details that were unnecessary (to me, anyway) - the bit about her paintings and such, but they have this almost musical quality to them that makes them a joy to read.
This didn't even need the Ewoks, but it's pretty ace that you included them anyway.
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-01-29 02:33:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-01-28 16:52:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I really liked this story.
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2007-01-28 15:41:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by hot_pocket (user info) at 2007-01-28 14:29:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
i liked it though it seemed a bit unpolished for my taste
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2007-01-28 14:13:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
It makes sense?
Submitted by Fungah (user info) at 2007-01-28 12:49:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i6irkkuffj
Submitted by Cyrus (user info) at 2007-01-27 16:21:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Yeah Bubba, it's called leaving a rating _and_ a comment. I've seen you do it here before so I know you know what I'm talking about. Just out of curiosity, you felt compelled to comment on the fact that said I didn't get Fungah's (current?) style.
Me: I don't get it
You: obviously
Me: 1) What's yer point? 2) piss off
Submitted by DirtyHarry (user info) at 2007-01-27 15:57:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I likes it +1, and then I saw the pic of the wittle Ewoks! +1 for that to.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2007-01-27 15:45:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Cyrus (user info) at 2007-01-27 15:42:50 (#)
Ranking: 1
So - I admit that prior to your last post I'd hadn't paid much attention to your stuff here. Is this your "thing?" A nonsensical title, followed by fairly decent writing, followed by a nonsensical picture. All in all, no relation between subject line/title, writing, and image?
Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I don't get it. <-------
************************
Obviously not.....
Submitted by Cyrus (user info) at 2007-01-27 15:42:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
So - I admit that prior to your last post I'd hadn't paid much attention to your stuff here. Is this your "thing?" A nonsensical title, followed by fairly decent writing, followed by a nonsensical picture. All in all, no relation between subject line/title, writing, and image?
Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I don't get it.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2007-01-27 15:38:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2007-01-27 15:25:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
weirdo.
Submitted by Fungah (user info) at 2007-01-27 15:16:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
VALENTINE'S DAY, RAAAWWWRRRRR BWAAAAAAAAAA T-REX PSHOOOMMMM KRASH, KAPLOWWW!
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2007-01-27 14:58:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Black and white are
All I see in my infancy
Red and yellow then came to be
Reaching out to me, lets me see
Submitted by DonovanMD (user info) at 2007-01-27 13:58:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
The picture is the only thing that makes this good. I was about to give the not often used -1. But I laughed.
Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2007-01-27 13:49:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by The_Cyst_Master (user info) at 2006-07-25 13:04:33 (#)
Ranking: 2
Don't give this a +2 if you like men on your face.
Submitted by matnotharry (user info) at 2007-01-27 13:40:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Groovy
Submitted by SkullBiter (user info) at 2007-01-27 13:35:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sweet dude. My eyeballs are bleeding.
Submitted by Fungah (user info) at 2007-01-27 13:27:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
REVIEW MEEEEE