Monday, October 12, 2009

under-the-gun-fff

funny how i write+post this flash fiction (friday) the same way i wrote+posted the trigger (italicised below).
tried something with this one, so please leave a response to my little experiment, explained @ the end of the story...thanks.

freakishly large hands reached out toward the tiny vial, almost visibly trembling. even now i couldn’t believe they were mine. i clutched it as gently as i could, cradling it against my soft bits, what was left of them, anyway. i couldn’t afford to let it slip through those clumsy fingers, fingers i barely controlled.
i lurched sideways, hearing a noise – mere hours ago i had no idea how much we take the ease and smoothness of basic movement for granted – i didn’t want to be seen. i fell back into the shadows, thanking all that was still holy for my senses not being dulled in this strangely altered state.
i waited for the sound to come into view, breathing more heavily than ever before, hating how audible it was, feeling like an animal, panting, hating the sweat i felt trickling down the centre of my chest, hating what i’d become, stiff and hard, sticking out like the proverbial sore thumb, no longer able to blend in when desired then make my prescence felt with a simple smile. could i still light up a room without a word?
the sound became flesh, entering the dark room to the immediate and barely hidden salute of my new flesh – at least, that’s how it felt, like there was no way anybody could possibly miss this physical reaction. unseen in the corner, it felt like a beacon announcing my weakness with my panting as alarm, announcing my inability to control what was supposedly mine – this body was not mine to manage, it had a mind of its own, if ‘mind’ was the best description of this involuntary rise.
she came in clearly looking for something, quickly becoming more agitated, her movements becoming faster and more aggressive until moments later she was tearing the room apart, somehow not noticing another being huddled in the corner. she worked methodically as i watched, my foreign flesh somehow responding even more to her frustrated condition. she dragged open everything in her path, ripping into every possible hiding place, starting at the entrance and coming toward my corner. my breathing got heavier, again, involuntarily, and now i had to fight my hands’ itch to reach out and touch, grab, grope, feel. i couldn’t even think about what to say when she inevitably got close enough to realise i was there.
moments later it was too late. she jumped, ever so slightly, but instantly, instinctively, covered her reaction with an unexpectedly gruff, “what the fuck?!”, dropping back into what tv and film had taught me was a fighting stance. i looked at her in amazement- she was going to take on the massive hunk of meat i was currently trapped inside? again, the forbidden flesh rose to the bait – how could any body be so dense, so insensitive to the situation? this woman was clearly intending to at least try beating my ass. how could that be a turn on? ‘mind of its own’ seemed more oxymoronic by the second.
finally my own mind, the one unchanged part of me, stepped in. i told her i wasn’t there to get in her way, already had what i came for, had been about to leave when i heard her coming and hid not knowing who she’d be. she relaxed, somewhat, although her body language and constantly shifting weight said she was still ready for the fight but had sized me up and decided that talking was safer – which was fine by me since i had no idea how to use the bulk i was temporarily (i hoped) blessed with.
i asked what she’d come for and she hesitated, and it suddenly made me question what seemed obvious – was she what she appeared to be, or was she like me, in an altered state? finally the flesh relinquished its hold on my mind. i discreetly (as discreetly as my unfamiliar mass would allow, anyway) checked my pocket for the vial, and, assured that my salvation was intact, told her that she didn’t need to tell me her business, i could just leave.
i made for the door, giving her a wide berth as i passed, noticing her alertness, noticing how she turned to keep her eyes on me the entire time i was moving, noticing the tension in her body, her readiness. i didn’t want to care whether this was her natural state or not. i had my own problems to resolve.
i wasn’t sure if she’d let me leave without a fight or at least a question (how could she not question?) but confidence is everything and i turned it on high and hoped the flesh wouldn’t betray me – weakness still lingered in my nether regions, but i no longer wanted to test drive this equipment.
i cleared the room and it took everything in me to not dance my relief at release down the hallway. i escaped as fast as i could, no longer caring how the bulky body might seem, no longer even caring how it worked, why i’d ever wanted to try it on long forgotten...


when i started writing i didn’t know what the hands were reaching toward. a few paragraphs in i thought the piece was called altered states by the end i thought it was called penis envy but didn’t title it at all because i was experimenting with giving as little info as possible to encourage reader-imagination, understanding+enjoyment, so please tell me if it worked.
thanks.
walk good.

3 Comments:

Blogger crazyfool said...

surprise bulk lasting longer than 4 hours should be treated by a physician immediately. i love the way this piece unfolds. really nice work.

7:59 am  
Blogger sweet trini said...

but can you tell that it's not just 'surprise bulk' but a woman temporarily in a man's body? and that the searching 'woman' may be a man in similar scenario?
thanks. walk good.

10:19 am  
Blogger crazyfool said...

yes. from the first time i read it i thought your protagonist was a woman trapped in a man's body, and the man in a woman's body searching for what the bulkier had already found; the antidote. seems there was only 1 vial...
i seem to like it more with each read. truly great sweet trini.

2:51 pm  

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