Goddess Worship
- 2 years ago
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Ana left the Convent in some distress. She stood by the bus stop and waited as if in a dream, almost startled when a bus actually arrived to take her back to the city centre. As the bus drove along, she looked through the window at people going about their life, oblivious to all but her own musings on her love of Binta and her sympathy for Mezyana.
She disembarked at the terminus and walked aimlessly around the city centre, not at all sure where to go. She ignored the bustle of shoppers as they dashed in and out of the city stores, conscious that despite herself her steps were taking her closer to the Brothel where she had made no plans to meet Binta today. Indeed, she knew that Binta would actually be working at the moment: a thought which caused additional distress in itself. That beautiful body. Those disgusting men! How could she live with such jealousy?
"Cooee!" Ana heard, but ignored.
"Hey, Ana!" came the call again, to which this time she felt obliged to respond. The source of the cry was Zabba who was sitting in a café with another girl Ana had never seen before. Zabba was dressed in a leather jacket and looked much more like a boy than a girl. Her companion was a slim girl with a short bob, wearing a tee-shirt and a floral skirt. The two of them were smoking cigarettes and had cups of coffee in front of them. "How are you today?"
Ana strolled over to them. "Fine. Fine."
"I must say you don't look it! Come. Sit with Bida and me."
Ana nodded and sat sheepishly in the vacant chair, scarcely caring that she was downwind of the tobacco fumes she normally avoided. Bida smiled at her, and Ana noticed for the first time that she was discreetly holding Zabba's hand under the table.
"You don't know each other do you? This is my close friend, Bida. She's still at school. And this, Bida, is Ana, who is a secretary at the Brothel."
"They have secretaries there!" exclaimed Bida, in a young voice.
"Secretaries. Cleaners. Accountants. Everything. But, hey, what's the trouble, Ana? You and Binta haven't had a tiff, have you?"
"A tiff?"
"You know. A lover's tiff. It happens to the best of us, doesn't it Bida dear?"
Her friend nodded her head shyly. "You're never very honest with me, Zabba. All those other people..."
"It comes with the job!" Zabba replied sharply. "Was it something like that?"
Ana shook her head and gazed at the ring of coffee stain left on Zabba's saucer while she sipped from the cup. "No, it wasn't. I've just been to the Convent. To see Mezyana."
"Mezyana? Oh, Binta's ex! That must have been quite weird for you," remarked Zabba sympathetically. "What was it like?"
"It was horrible! She's still very much in love with Binta."
Zabba nodded her head. "Loyal girl. And I thought these nuns were always making love to each other. She's not, I take it?"
Ana shook her head sadly, slightly alarmed by the suggestion. "I felt so bad. Taking Binta away from her!"
"Nonsense! It's Binta, not you, who should feel guilty, if anyone should. I'd be very surprised if it was you, rather than she who started it."
"But I could have said no. I could have resisted."
"I can't believe that's what you'd rather have done. What do you think, Bida? Do you think Ana should feel guilty that she's having a relationship with someone who's got a lover imprisoned in a Convent?"
"Is that what's happened?" mused Bida. "I don't know. I'd hate it if you did the same to me. I'd hate it if someone took you away from me."
Zabba looked distinctly uncomfortable and made no comment. She opened her packet of cigarettes and offered one to Bida before inserting one in her mouth. She lit them, and then addressed Ana, clearly intending to change the subject: "How do you like living in Blad? Better than the provinces, isn't it?"
"I'm still not used to all the people," Ana admitted. "I often long to be out in the country air again, and lead a more relaxed life."
"Just the two of you together, I suppose. Binta's a country girl too, isn't she? Is she pining for the great outdoors as well?"
Ana nodded. "We've often thought about returning to the country when she finishes her sentence."
"Not many jobs there, though, are there? What do you intend to do? Rear sheep? Grow crops? I'd have thought you'd both be better off staying in Blad. More opportunities for work for a start. And anyway how long do you think you could live together in the country before you both get found out again? Do you think you'd like to serve time in the Brothel like Binta? And do you think you'd be at all likely to be sharing the same Brothel? If I were you, I'd abandon the notion of living in the sticks. You're much better off in Blad. Nobody notices anything here. Nobody really has the time or inclination to get upset by a little bit of illicit sex. And it's not that bad in Blad. Really it isn't."
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Thursday came, and when I got home from school, I could feel the butterflies in my stomach beginning to form. I played baseball, and most other sports. Athletes didn’t dance. So I was torn between betraying my perceived manhood, and having my friends laugh at me, so I told nobody. I didn’t tell Denise, because I didn’t want to create unrealistic expectations. Better to surprise her I thought. The Doorbell rang, and I could see JoAnne through the thick glass. I guess I should tell you about...
Thoughts... By Joseph A. Falls. I opened my eyes to a Scooby Doo Alarm Clock that was ringing on a pink desk across this foolish room where I am. Gosh!!! I had been on parties but the one last night was the worst of my life... At least I can tell that from the hang over this morning, but ya know I don't remember how the party started, who was in, and what I did. My head is spinning, and I feel like I'm going to puke... So better I stand and look for a bathroom... but suddenly a...
This was written by my husband (I can’t write this stuff, I just read it) he was at work and came across a couple of female co-workers talking about romance novels and how detailed they can get and that they are only as good as they are because women write them. Well, he decided to insert foot and told them that a man could write that stuff just as well as a woman. So his co-workers dared him to prove that a man could so he had to write something for them, this is the result. let me know what...