What?
YOu want to see posting samples?
Why didn't you say so?!
Here's one I wrote up the other day. About a guy and a girl in a car, having that conversation on the first date about expectations...
It's modern day, btw. Probably should have mentioned that first.
YOu want to see posting samples?
Why didn't you say so?!
Here's one I wrote up the other day. About a guy and a girl in a car, having that conversation on the first date about expectations...
“A bold faced lie it would have been too,” Jonas spoke, sparing a sideways glance towards his companion as they pass through the darkness, only the dim lights on the dash, harsh azure against the velvet black, and the warm glow of headlights the only light as they passed from the city proper to a darkened street. Like anywhere in the city, there was more than one way to go about things, and it seemed everyone had their own way of doing it, no two ways alike. Jonas liked the isolation one could expect from residential roads and neighborhoods at night. No lights, little traffic… in a world where solitude seemed a precious commodity, one learned to take it where one could find it, and appreciate it when it was around. The radio played a soft tune, an old guitar melody, harsh and aloft with the sounds of the late 70’s, early 80’s. His words easily spoke above the music, which was kind enough to stay in the background, a subtle accompaniment of their night. “All men care about sex. What makes them deny is it fear of being perceived as we actually are, sex-crazed. You see, we know that women know this about us, but we are more comfortable with the delusion that you haven’t figured it out yet.” He spoke, as he pulled his phone from his pocket, tossing it into the center console of the car, as he slowed, took a right hand turn, down another residential road.
“And yes, we know it’s delusional. We know that it’s not the best approach to the situation,” he spoke, continuing to lay out his version of what men think, as though you can explain the beast in psychological terms. Jonas continued to shoot her quick glances, to judge her continued humor with the situation, as though choosing carefully how far to go, or perhaps looking for some indication that he should stop, find a new topic of conversation. He saw no such sign, and though this does not precluded the existence of it, it simply means he hadn’t noticed if such a sign had presented itself. He was hardly the most attentive to detail, it was actually to be listed amongst one of his weaknesses, not his strengths.
“I know, you’re probably thinking why do we persist then. It’s actually quite simple. Because in those moment, when the decision has to be made, our brains are actually functioning on an acute and temporary blood loss,” He cracked a smile, telegraphing his joke, while he turned his car again, this time to the left. They moved slowly, 25 mile an hour speed limits making the drive feel somewhat relaxing, luxurious. He adjusted the temperature in the car, cutting the heat up to accommodate the woman’s damp exterior.
“But you are absolutely correct. Intentions should be well known. But, and please do not take offense, if you were to see twelve caged tigers, each in their own cages, each eating a zebra leg. When you came to the thirteenth, would you seriously expect him to be enjoying a nice salad? Should not the same be said about men?” He spoke, as they pulled up to a stop sign. This time he turned to her, looking at her eyes, as though to pose the question properly. “If you know, as women do, what is on our minds, does it need to be properly stated? Can’t we simply skip by the awkward conversation in which I confess to you my intent to take you home at the end of the night, strip you down to your skin, and fuck you until the world dissolves into a dozen shades of purple and green, and you cannot move for the sheer exhaustion of it all.”
Jonas turned himself back around, faced the road, and again the car started forward.
“And yes, we know it’s delusional. We know that it’s not the best approach to the situation,” he spoke, continuing to lay out his version of what men think, as though you can explain the beast in psychological terms. Jonas continued to shoot her quick glances, to judge her continued humor with the situation, as though choosing carefully how far to go, or perhaps looking for some indication that he should stop, find a new topic of conversation. He saw no such sign, and though this does not precluded the existence of it, it simply means he hadn’t noticed if such a sign had presented itself. He was hardly the most attentive to detail, it was actually to be listed amongst one of his weaknesses, not his strengths.
“I know, you’re probably thinking why do we persist then. It’s actually quite simple. Because in those moment, when the decision has to be made, our brains are actually functioning on an acute and temporary blood loss,” He cracked a smile, telegraphing his joke, while he turned his car again, this time to the left. They moved slowly, 25 mile an hour speed limits making the drive feel somewhat relaxing, luxurious. He adjusted the temperature in the car, cutting the heat up to accommodate the woman’s damp exterior.
“But you are absolutely correct. Intentions should be well known. But, and please do not take offense, if you were to see twelve caged tigers, each in their own cages, each eating a zebra leg. When you came to the thirteenth, would you seriously expect him to be enjoying a nice salad? Should not the same be said about men?” He spoke, as they pulled up to a stop sign. This time he turned to her, looking at her eyes, as though to pose the question properly. “If you know, as women do, what is on our minds, does it need to be properly stated? Can’t we simply skip by the awkward conversation in which I confess to you my intent to take you home at the end of the night, strip you down to your skin, and fuck you until the world dissolves into a dozen shades of purple and green, and you cannot move for the sheer exhaustion of it all.”
Jonas turned himself back around, faced the road, and again the car started forward.
It's modern day, btw. Probably should have mentioned that first.