/lit/ - Literature

Check out this which I wrote yesterday:

"He's late", Jean said to herself anxiously for the fifteenth time as her shivering frame paced the street, the prickled white hairs on her sleeveless arms hopelessly snatching at the air for pockets of warmth.

Her boyfriend, Paul, had forsaken her to the barren streets of outer-Chicago. She had finished her first day as a working secretary there and the wait for her lover and his chariot was extending into it's second hour. How she pined for that chariot to liberate her from the harsh, oppressive winds whipping at her soft teenaged skin; to deliver her to the sticky passionate heat of the bed sheets under which she had surrendered her flesh to Paul countless times over the last year.

Paul had recently been abandoned to the swamps of the unemployed which now plagued The States. The two had been mourning their losses in a Chicago bar the week earlier when a handsome man, who Jean doubted had yet to breach his forties, had fortuitously overheard their sullen conversation and almost immediately, with a keen alchohol-tempered sense, proposed Jean with a generous employment offer. Jean had delightedly accepted and was quizzing her unexpected drinking-partner on the terms of her employment as Paul sat silent begrudgingly, displaying his disapproval but wisely withdrawing protest in the shadow of the precarious economic position the couple had been condemned to. Jean, to show her gratitude and confidence in her new employer, treated him to many an avid glance at her charming, slender legs. The couple left the bar that night with one of them seeming taller(and perhaps the other and shrunk slightly too). ...