Creative Writing: Red |Pugs and Dinosaurs

This is a piece of writing I did while at University, it has been posted on the ABC Tales website and was well received so I thought I’d share it on here as well:

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Red 

She wore a red bra under her thin white blouse, I couldn’t stop looking and neither could Dan. I nudged him a few times, but he just turned his head slightly and looked at me in that way. That way; with his mouth pulled into a straight line and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. She had red lipstick on too, she must have matched the shades. They complemented each other perfectly. Tracey. Hairdresser. Essex.

She was leaning across the table so she could talk to just Dan now, a nice cosy conversation, all tits and white teeth and scarlet. She had so much hair, it didn’t know what to do; it kind of layered itself on top of her small head, layer upon layer of wave falling down to where her bra strap would be on her back. Her red bra strap under that thin white blouse and Dan’s eyes were looking looking looking. I couldn’t blame him.

We hadn’t had sex in weeks. He used to buy me underwear and flowers to lure me in, now he just buys me chocolate because he thinks I’m still sad about the baby. He was still looking and I folded my arms, making sure my elbow hit his. He didn’t take any notice, just carried on savouring every word that came out of her red smeared mouth.

Her teeth were so white. I decided I wasn’t going to smile for the rest of the night. I unfolded my arms and leaned forward trying to snatch a sentence from their conversation.

I noticed Peter’s girlfriend watching me from across the table, she gave me a small smile. One of those encouraging ones, then she picked up her wine glass and took a sip whilst watching Peter thump someone on the arm and laugh loudly like a school boy.

Tracey’s bra was lacy, I could see the pattern imprinting itself through the white shirt now. Dan had noticed too, I thought of the plain white bra I had on and non revealing blue pants. Blue pants, like a child or a teenager would wear. My Mum had taught me underwear should match, and here I was in an ill fitting white bra and big blue knickers.

I just knew Tracey had a matching lace red thong on. The string would be sitting perfectly between her firm buttocks. She does Pilates. She told us all at the last Christmas dinner, how wonderful the exercise is. She even made one of the other women grab her arse. Almost teasing us because we knew she was making her way around the office, making her way around until she got to my Dan. The big thing, the Boss. He was taking the bait nicely and I took a sip of my drink watching her mouth move furiously as she spoke to him.

Her eyes were open wide, trying to look interested as he replied. Liar. She wasn’t interested. She didn’t care about the company, she just answered the phone and directed people to a chair and wore a tight fitting blouse.

Her head snapped back, she was laughing. Her mouth was open so wide I could see her tonsils and I wanted to grab them and yank them out. Her hair had fallen off her shoulders and cascaded down her back in golden waves, like Rapunzel or something, shaking and tumbling with each new laugh.

I snatched a look at Dan and he looked pretty pleased with himself. He glanced at me then turned straight back to her. She was leaning across the table again now, her hand absentmindedly stroking the salt shaker in front of her. I felt something knock my leg and saw her lift her eyes to look at me,

“Sorry,” she breathed, and Dan glared at me as though I’d done something wrong. I raised an eyebrow and took another sip from my glass. Slow long sips. I thought I might slurp it a little just to piss him off.

He wasn’t paying attention anymore anyway and she flicked her hair back again, her perfume was overwhelming and Dan seemed to lean in closer. Her bra had a small diamante crystal in the middle, between the cups. That’s how tight the shirt was, I could see it pressed against the material.

I pursed my lips and stood making my way to the ladies across the room, I suddenly felt tipsy and wanted to cry and I sat in a cubicle for a while not bothering to pull my underwear up but just sit there and sob quietly into a tissue. The door opened after a few minutes and I heard heels on the tiled floor.

I saw under the door a pair of long elegant feet in high strappy black shoes with manicured red toe nails. Red. She was standing in front of the mirrors. I heard her undo her bag, the zip made a sharp sound and I sorted myself out. I didn’t want to stay in the cubicle too long. I lifted the catch on the door and caught sight of myself in the mirror she looked up and I noticed her smiling red lipped face.

“Great evening huh?” she asked leaning forward to wipe some mascara that had smudged on her eyelid as she re applied it. I just stood there for a moment, clutching my purse and blinking. She glanced up and frowned,

“You’re Mrs Bennett aren’t you?” she asked. She emphasised the Mrs. She smiled at herself,checking she had no lipstick on her white teeth.

“Yes,” I replied, I stepped forward, dropping my purse on the side and running my hands under the hot tap. The water burnt but I held them under there.

“Your husband is so lovely, you’re a lucky woman,” she said. She glanced at me in the mirror and I looked back up at her. She was readjusting her bra, putting her hand in each cup and lifting her breast to make it sit higher up. Deceiving, she had nothing there. It made me feel a little better.

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