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Nov. 1st, 2009
[Requiem] November writing challenge
Nov. 1st, 2009 06:53 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
idony-fae.livejournal.comTrick was sitting outside on the doorstep, the front door propped open behind her, smoking. Her long hair was damp and she was wrapped in only a bath towel. Her thin legs were stretched out in front of her and crossed loosely at the ankle. Rivulets ran down from her hair and trickled down her bare arms and back. A small pool of water was forming underneath and behind her. Her towel, faded green but comfortably soft and fluffy, was clinging to her body in several places. Despite her generally dishevelled state of undress, and the chilly Autumn wind which raced across the lonely Fenland and whirled around the house, Trick often liked to sit outside and enjoy a cigarette after having her bath. The front doorstep was clearly visible from the road, but it was late and there wouldn't be any traffic passing the small yellow-painted thatched cottage. Not that Trick minded if anyone caught sight of her, she'd practically grown up on a circus trapeze and was fairly used to being scantily clad.
Once again, Lorna West, the spirited animal rights activist she shared this tiny house with, yelled out from the kitchen. "This red sauce thing you got on the stove is now burning, Trick. Whaddya want me to do about it?"
Trick sighed, took a final drag on the cigarette and flicked it idly away into the front garden. Later on she'd have to go out and pick it up. She stood slowly, uncurled her dripping limbs and plodded back into the house. Indeed, the veggie bolognese sauce she was making Lorna for dinner was spewing acrid black smoke into the kitchen and down the hallway. Trick halted just short of the kitchen door, a slight feeling of panic rising up inside her stomach. She took a step back.
"Uh, Lorna? Just take it off the heat and open the window. Then turn the stove off. I'll come in and look at it in a sec, okay?" Without waiting for a response, Trick turned rapidly away from the kitchen and fled upstairs. Anything to get away from that smoke.
Sitting on her bed five minutes later and attempting to run a comb through her long and wildly wavy hair, Trick was laughing at herself. "Fine specimen of a Gangrel I am," she told herself, tugging at a stubborn tangle and hoping she didn't break the comb. "Runnin' away from my housemate's dinner."
Once again, Lorna West, the spirited animal rights activist she shared this tiny house with, yelled out from the kitchen. "This red sauce thing you got on the stove is now burning, Trick. Whaddya want me to do about it?"
Trick sighed, took a final drag on the cigarette and flicked it idly away into the front garden. Later on she'd have to go out and pick it up. She stood slowly, uncurled her dripping limbs and plodded back into the house. Indeed, the veggie bolognese sauce she was making Lorna for dinner was spewing acrid black smoke into the kitchen and down the hallway. Trick halted just short of the kitchen door, a slight feeling of panic rising up inside her stomach. She took a step back.
"Uh, Lorna? Just take it off the heat and open the window. Then turn the stove off. I'll come in and look at it in a sec, okay?" Without waiting for a response, Trick turned rapidly away from the kitchen and fled upstairs. Anything to get away from that smoke.
*
Sitting on her bed five minutes later and attempting to run a comb through her long and wildly wavy hair, Trick was laughing at herself. "Fine specimen of a Gangrel I am," she told herself, tugging at a stubborn tangle and hoping she didn't break the comb. "Runnin' away from my housemate's dinner."
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