Get Tested
He couldn’t remember if he should be embarrassed, but he felt it a little anyway. Pulsing with enough pressure to make his eyes ache, his brain was searching for memories of any uncouth or even illegal moments. He closed his mouth, which had apparently been agape the whole time as made evident by it being devoid of moisture. His tongue felt like his old baseball mitt when he chewed on it, bored in right field. He’d been thinking a lot about baseball metaphors lately. He even laughed at himself when he thought about which base he’d gotten to with some girl. She’d tasted of lime, and he couldn’t tell whether it was lip gloss or her drink that caused it.
But who saw him kiss her? Did anyone from the office see it? He couldn’t remember what she looked like from the neck down, or her name. He didn’t even remember if he’d asked for it. He checked the time, not his watch, because he didn’t have one, but on his phone. Three messages. The first was a hang-up. The second eased his lagging memory, but aroused mortification to the point of breathlessness. It was he; his own voice calling to remind him to get tested after what he’d done.
He looked at himself in the mirror as he raised his face from the sink. It was made up with skill. His lips were trimmed in green. They still tasted citrus and sweet, a stark contrast to the potent stench of cigarettes on his fingers. He had a tendency to smoke afterwards. It calmed him somehow, even though he despised the smell. The most calming thing he thought, though, was another drink. That would help take the sting out of his ass, not to mention calm the pounding inside his skull. He didn’t know which was worse.
Pouring vodka over ice, he trembled. The first sip of the harsh liquid burned on his dry tongue, but it steadied his hand enough to read the number scrawled across the back of it. He sat down at the table and tried to think. No use. He called it instead. A rough, sleepy voice answered. A man. He’d sounded so feminine the night before, but now his boss wanted to know why he was calling him at home.
posted by Brandon @ 7:33 PM
6 Comments:
That is a great little story, Brandon. A bit yucky towards the end, but it makes it point and it's very clever. I love the twist. Even though there's a foreshadowing it still takes you by surprise.
And I can't believe how much of a character you've developed in just a few words. It's like we know him.
Great story.
Hi Brandon,
Your story opened up to such an original air of mystery and that was wonderful, that you carried its swift straightforward atmosphere thoughout. That was a stunner about the ending and possibly reflected any pub-crawler or party-boozer's worst nightmare.
Say what they like about ciggys but there's nothing like the use of tobacco to add on sharp flavour to a story whether good or bad.
I thought these lines:
'His tongue felt like his old baseball mitt when he chewed on it, bored in right field. He’d been thinking a lot about baseball metaphors lately. He even laughed at himself when he thought about which base he’d gotten to with some girl.'
particularly clever in the way you used the baseball imagery to connect it to a girl and the present plot which was anything but baseball. That's clever writing, Brandon.
I remember the same technique that you had used with regards to the quilt in the previous entry and which worked very well. You seem to be a natural hand at it.
Potent story, Brandon. Good imagery - I particularly liked: "His tongue felt like his old baseball mitt when he chewed on it, bored in right field."
I knew there was going to be a twist in the tail, I had an inkling of where it might go - but you still got me in the end.
Well done!
Hmmm... you've got me wanting to know "the rest of the story."
Well?!!!
:-)
Great job! So much told in so small a frame.
Nifty piece Brandon, left an aftertaste - which is good!
I've a lot of catching up to do in these parts - but I can see you've lost none of your writing prowess! An uncomfortable twist, but a good one all the same!
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