I slow the car as I pass the girl. Her hair, a mix of blonde and brown, is cut short to her shoulders. Earrings like fishing lures dangle from her ears. A short, black skirt and white halter-top display a slim, lanky body. A silver bar graces her navel. Unlike others, she looks her age.
I turn the corner and navigate the block. She is still there. I swallow, coming to an uneasy halt in front of her. I reach across the seat and roll down the window. A sequined handbook is held tight to her smallish breasts as she mince steps over in tall platform shoes.
"Hi." Her voice breaks. She cringes. "Looking for some fun?"
"Yeah. I just, uh, won some money, a contest. I was hoping for some, uh, entertainment?"
Brown eyes study me. Then, she shrugs.
"Okay."
I pull the handle. She steps inside and sits close to the car door. I follow one-word directions to a downtown motel. I get a room for an hour. She follows me inside.
The door clicks shut, the sound echoing off yellowing walls.
She stands next to the door watching me. I stand near the corner of the king-sized bed, looking first at her then at the worn carpet.
Seconds pass like minutes.
She moves to me. Undoing my shirt buttons, she starts to strip me. I lean down for a kiss. She moves away. Her mouth lowers to my chest as she shoves the shirt down my arms. She takes one of my small nipples into her mouth. I...
...wake up as the whiteness of the word processor flicks into stars.
I will never win if I don't start writing, I remind myself. But wishing words on paper is not writing, and no ideas come.
© 2003 Kenny N Gamera