Personal Narrative-Painted Girl

“Good,” was the girl’s reply. They walked out of his house and climbed his his run down car. The paint was chipped, and it needed new tires, but he adored it. They had decided to go get frozen yogurt, as a cool treat on a hot summer day. The frozen yogurt shop was packed to the brim with sweaty, smiling faces, in for their favorite flavor. As he sat down next to Paige on the curb with his slightly melted dessert, he thought about all the hard times he had just been

Margery was such a slob when she’d been drinking. She’d pick up fast food, but be so bombed that half the time she couldn’t find her mouth. Burger wrappers, nibs of French fries, and oozing condiment packets littered the floor of her posh Cadillac…probably the floor of her apartment, now, too, I thought in disgust. I mean, sure, the house was already shabby, but I was

“Time for dinner” her mom called, reluctantly she shuffled into the kitchen her golden hair rolling lazily off her shoulders, she sat down in a worn wooden chair, “fish again,” she thought, never the less she ate dinner as she always did saying little to her mom as they ate.

“Okay, it might be the whiskey talking, but I have a major crush on you,” Gwaine said. “I know you’re straight and all.”

“What?” he barked as he finally turned towards her. As he loomed over her, standing at the foot of their bed, buried in his cellphone, she got her first good look at him for the day. She took in his ragged demeanor; his dirty worn out clothes too large for his scrawny frame. Through a tear in his pants she could see a cut on his leg, no doubt attained by begging on the streets of St. Louis. She never saw him do it anymore but there was no doubt in her mind that he had kept that habit, among others. His disheveled black hair was covered by a grimy nondescript

“What did you do?” your mother says. Her hand lays on the island in the kitchen, forefinger angrily rapping along the surface. She grasps her hip tightly. The marble countertops have been polished to shine brighter than stars. The hardwood floors look so glossed they almost look wet. Houseplants are arranged into a perfectly aligned army along the tops of the cabinets. Your

Derrick had come up to her, smelling like heaven and aftershave and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone – he knew that drove her crazy. He’d whispered that she looked nice in her dress, smiled at her in that charming way and she’d gone weak at the knees, it was also late.

William glanced up to see his girlfriend. Holy hell… she looks hot tonight. He studied her choice of clothing carefully. “Well, I guess I can excuse you for being late,” he chuckled nervously.

“Just look at those abbs! He can lick Tequila off my naval anytime,” Joan slurred as she gaped at the group of guys at the back of the club. Heat bloomed across Tess’s cheeks as scolded her cousin for being so provocative.

He downed his Budweiser, paid his tab and with a smile, walked over to the woman who had captured his attention. His eyes traveled over the blonde’s incredible legs and when she turned around and saw him, he lifted his eyes to meet hers. “I hope you ladies don’t mind if I interrupt,” he said,

“I wanted to do things to her; she was so good-looking in those high-waisted shorts.” The guy was lying on the floor, clutching his lower part.

Standing before her chamber, he raised his hand to knock, but Fleur had already tossed open the door. She pulled him in by the front of his tunic and shoved him toward her bed while simultaneously kicking the door closed. She had his clothes off and him down on his back before he had time to say hello. They’d been having make-up sex for an entire week since their argument. He was not about to complain about loads of passionate sex, that was for sure.

“I should probably get started on chores,” Amy said with a sigh. Then she grabbed the broom. She got to the kitchen to Mittens sitting there on the floor staring back at Amy with her big blue eyes. Mittens stared at Amy until Amy looked up for a split second and Mittens immediately laid down. I guess i'm not sweeping today. Amy thought to herself. Then she stepped over Mittens and balanced the broom against the wall. Amy looked at the pile of dishes that needed doing and decided to do them instead of sweeping the floor. She ran some hot water and mixed in dish soap and went to the cabinet to get the sponge. When she looked up her eyes met with Mittens about to jump into the dishwater.

Taran ran outside and took the longest, most relieving piss of his life, then rushed back in. Realizing he was bare-chested, he draped a blanket over his shoulders, then peered at the woman at the table. She looked so damn young and vulnerable.

Hey, I 'm home." Lucy’s voice echoed throughout her apartment, but there was no response. She eyed last night’s dishes stacked haphazardly in the sink. Then set down the case files she’d brought home with her. Stomach rumbling, she walked to the spare room. Her fiancé had a guitar slung around his shoulder, favourite pick in hand.