Don’t Sweat it

by Robin Zemek


“So...”
Her silence stunned him.
“Don’t you want to talk about it?”
He lay on the bed looking over at Priss, her blonde hair billowing.
“We have to talk about it sometime.”
“That’s a cute bra. Was it hers?”
“No Priss. There’s another girl hiding in the closet... of course it was hers.”
“Where did she get it?”
“I don’t keep track of details like that.”
“Do you think she’ll mind if I take it?”
He turned his head and looked at the corpse beside him, a pretty red-head with a surprised look on her face and a bullet in her chest.
“I don’t think she’ll need it.”
He handed her the bra.
“She was pretty.”
“Not as pretty as you Priss.”
“Don’t humor me, I have a gun.”
He avoided her eyes.
“And don’t stare at my chest.”
“I remember a girl who used to like me doing that.”
“Funny, I can remember a man who didn’t have anyone on the side.”
“Funny, I wasn’t talking about you.”
He turned to the red-head.
“So, Priss? What are you still doing here?”
“I can’t really leave.”
“I know.”
“What should we tell the police?”
“Bullets make bad foreplay.”

Blog.Engage

I guess this is the start of something new. Not that blogs are new, and not to be ignorant of the fact that there must be about a million blogs, and ten million that don't get read. So hopefully I can be engaging and fun. I don't want to be ten million and one. I also don't want this to be some place where occasionally I post a funny video I've seen, or make a useless list of my opinions as facts, or a place where I tell everyone how my day was. That's boring. I'm a writer. I spend my day pretending something else happened, and then writing it down.

This is a creative outlet.

I'm a storyteller, and as such I'm going to write stories and post them here, at the current rate of one per week.

I don't care if no one reads them.

Alright, maybe I do secretly care.

Fine. I care a whole lot. Writing a story is personal.

But this is just my way to channel my time into a more productive... uh, thingy. I spend too much time thinking about how I spend too much time doing absolutely nothing, and as such, feel guilty.

So here we go.

Blog.Start