tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6642076166796902853.post2015682299037495970..comments2024-02-05T01:49:05.302-05:00Comments on Creative Bloomings' Flashy Fiction Friday: Friday FunkdayWalt Wojtanikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02723314300320671675noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6642076166796902853.post-1603752349170570312009-03-21T21:16:00.000-04:002009-03-21T21:16:00.000-04:00I love your dialogue!!!!!!!!! haha. It's awesome!I love your dialogue!!!!!!!!! haha. It's awesome!Suzanne Younghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09513999796820177367noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6642076166796902853.post-8837893053195727212009-03-21T02:12:00.000-04:002009-03-21T02:12:00.000-04:00“Um… What’s your sign?”“Stupid.”“Are you new here,...“Um… What’s your sign?”<BR/><BR/>“Stupid.”<BR/><BR/>“Are you new here, or…?”<BR/><BR/>“God. Really, Angela? That’s the best you can come up with?”<BR/><BR/>I glared. “It’s not like I pick up on guys, you know?”<BR/><BR/>Sarah rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I do know. That’s kind of the point.”<BR/><BR/>I attempted to remain calm. Why did she have to be such a bitch? “That’s the reason we’re going. I know I have to practice. You said you’d go, remember?”<BR/><BR/>“Uh, yeah, that was like two seconds ago. Of course I remember.”<BR/><BR/>No. I was not going to blow this. My lips stayed pressed together in a thin line.<BR/><BR/>Sarah folded her arms and considered me. “It’s not really the lines that are the problem. It’s your…” she made a swishy circle in the air, indicating all of me, “look.”<BR/><BR/>“What’s wrong with it?” I was wearing my best jeans and a button down flannel. It may not have been party-ish, but it was cute. “We’re just going to a bar.”<BR/><BR/>Sarah put her hands to her ears. “Tell me I did not just hear you say that.”<BR/><BR/>“Okay…”<BR/><BR/>“I can see we need to get you help from the ground up. Next you’ll tell me that you didn’t shave your legs and you’re wearing underwear.”<BR/><BR/>I wasn’t supposed to wear underwear? “You do realize I want you to go to a bar with me? To have a drink. And maybe talk to some guys.”<BR/><BR/>“Yes, exactly.”Heather Hansenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13814444108289873041noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6642076166796902853.post-14067464113678598872009-03-20T11:53:00.000-04:002009-03-20T11:53:00.000-04:00I bow to you, Lightverse. I bow!I bow to you, Lightverse. I bow!Suzanne Younghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09513999796820177367noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6642076166796902853.post-67000438115337932182009-03-20T06:16:00.000-04:002009-03-20T06:16:00.000-04:00Norah and her boyfriend Mark were walking down the...Norah and her boyfriend Mark were walking down the tree-lined main street of campus.<BR/><BR/>“So, you wanna fool around when we get back to the dorms?” Norah batted her eyelashes.<BR/><BR/>Mark put his hand to his heart and said in a faux-Southern accent (with the obligatory falsetto), “Gracious! You wanton woman, you!”<BR/><BR/>Norah snickered. Feeding off this, Mark continued. "I'll agree. But first, you have to give me your best pick-up line. Think you’re up to it?"<BR/><BR/>In a deep sexy voice filled with innuendo, Norah said, “I’m always up to it, darlin’!” She hitched her knapsack strap up higher on her shoulder. “How about this: Baby, somebody better call God ‘cause he’s missing an angel!”<BR/><BR/>Mark laughed. “Too trite. Try again.”<BR/><BR/>“Bond. James Bond.”<BR/><BR/>“You’re a woman – remember?”<BR/><BR/>“Oh, all right.” Norah thought for a moment. “Ummm...hello, I'm a thief, and I'm here to steal your heart.”<BR/><BR/>“Lame-o!”<BR/><BR/>“I have only three months to live...”<BR/><BR/>“Hmmm...might work. The ol’ sympathy routine, eh?”<BR/><BR/>“Ever work for you?”<BR/><BR/>“Stick to the game.”<BR/><BR/>“What's that in your eye? Must just be a twinkle. Hmmm. Or maybe...excuse me, but did you happen to find my Nobel Peace Prize?”<BR/><BR/>“Getting better, but still not convincing.”<BR/><BR/>Norah used a cheesy Steve Martin pick-up voice, copied straight from Pennies from Heaven: “You don’t need car keys to drive me crazy!”<BR/><BR/>Mark laughed loudly. “Okay, now you’re warming me up some!”<BR/><BR/>“Would you like Gin and Platonic, or Scotch and Sofa?”<BR/><BR/>“Oooh, clever!” <BR/><BR/>“Really?” asked Norah. “’Cause I think so too!” She winked at Mark. “Well, here’s my final try. Either, let's go behind that rock, and get a little boulder. Or...we may not be Fred and Wilma Flintstone, but honey – I’ll still make your bed rock!”<BR/><BR/>Mark said, “Oooh baby!”<BR/><BR/>The two of them walked up the steps to the entrance of their dorm building.<BR/><BR/>“So,” said Norah. She coyly flipped her hair back. “You ready to fool around now?”<BR/><BR/>Mark gave her his best smoldering look. “With lines like those, baby, I think you’ve just talked me into it.”<BR/><BR/>Norah giggled as they got into the elevator.RJ Clarkenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03018296461199649445noreply@blogger.com