Mitch: What are you reading?
Rosie: (shoves a book under the blanket) Nothing!
Mitch: Let me see that (pulls out book). ‘Fifty Shades of Greyhound?’
Rosie: It’s very popular, right now.
Mitch: Isn’t this like…bondage porn, or something?
Rosie: It’s only ‘bondage porn’ if you think that being kept on a leash and collar and led around like a pet, is sexy. For me, that’s called ‘Tuesday.’
Mitch: So what’s it about?
Rosie: It’s about a greyhound, who falls in love with a sheepdog, who only wants to herd her.
Mitch: Don’t they have a ‘safe word?’
Rosie: Not ‘hurt’, I said ‘herd.’
Mitch: It sounds like over-the-top, pop-culture trash.
Rosie: You bet it is! (resumes reading)
Mitch: I’ll bet you could write a book like that.
Rosie: (closes the book) Are you joking?
Mitch: I’m totally serious. Think about it. You got engaged to a deer, who turned out to be transsexual–
Rosie: Don’t remind me!
Mitch: You dated a coyote, who wanted to kill you and feed you to his family–
Rosie: That was an error in judgment.
Mitch: Your longtime boyfriend, Rex, turned out to be gay–
Rosie: I don’t have the best track record, okay?
Mitch: All I’m saying, is that I think you could write a stirring piece of fiction about twisted relationships.
Rosie: You think MY relationships are twisted? What about (whispers in Mitch’s ear)
Mitch: Yeah, that one we’re not going to talk about.
Rosie: Then what about (whispers again)
Mitch: Okay, when she said she had no kids as far as she knew, that should have tipped me off.
Rosie: I think we’ve both traveled down the twisted relationship road, is all I’m sayin’.
Mitch: Okay then, tell you what–you write something, and I’ll write something, and we’ll see whose is best.
Rosie: Who’s going to be the judge?
Mitch: We’ll let our readers decide.
Rosie: Done! Oh, I am so going to write pop culture trash.
Mitch: I’m right there, with you.
(Two Hours Later…)
Mitch: Okay, here we go. You can present your work first.
Rosie: With pleasure…
Love Unleashed
by Rosie
Alexandra sat on Bruno’s pillow. It smelled of him–of orchids, flea powder and carp.
“When he walks in, I’m going to let him sniff me,” she said aloud, then looked around, embarrassed, to see if anyone heard. Yes, it was true. She wanted to be sniffed. She wanted to be sniffed by Bruno.
Suddenly, a familiar shadow fell across the threshold. A comforting scent filled the room. She drew her eyes across the long, lean legs, the expansive chest, the expensive collar. It was her Bruno. He ain’t nothing but a hound dog, she thought, and the words sounded familiar, though she couldn’t place them.
And then, he was beside her, locking her eyes with his–one brown, one blue–and whispering in her ear. “You. Stink. So. Good.”
Her heart pounded, her mind raced. He thinks I stink! She was grateful for the dead hamster she’d found by the road. She wished she could bottle this moment, then take it out, at her pleasure, and roll in it.
——————-
Mitch: You sure that’s what you’re going with?
Rosie: Yep. You ready?
Mitch: I was born ready.
Rosie: So bring it.
Hostage to Love
by Mitch Coleman
Miguel set the peanut butter jar by the bed, and put the table knife close by. There would be no crackers, tonight. “You, my darling, are all the cracker I need,” he thought, and a part of him was grateful that she was not from the South.
He had arranged the flowers on the carpet, so that they spelled the name of the hotel where they’d first made love–‘Hotel Le Beauvoir, Mont San Michel.’ It had taken him two hours, and used up six dozen roses, but he knew she would be pleased.
There was a knock at the door. “Room Service.”
He opened the door, and admitted a slender young man, pushing a cart, heaped with covered dishes. But wait, was that a young man? It was so like her to play games of disguise.
Boldly, Miguel stepped forward, grabbed the young man by the elbow, and spun him around, pinning his arms to his sides with a feverish embrace that could be neither resisted, nor explained. “And now,” he whispered, “you shall know the meaning of peanut butter kisses!”
—————————-
Rosie: Yeah. Good one. I should probably just concede now–isn’t that what you’re thinking?
Mitch: We’ll wait ’til the votes are in. If you like Rosie’s excerpt, vote for ‘Rosie’ in the ‘comments’ section at the bottom of this post. If you like my excerpt, vote for ‘Mitch.’ Results in a week or so.
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