100 Word Challenge

She woke slowly, disentangling from damp sheets.  The bed was empty.  How did she get home last night?

Then the smell hit her. She moaned, crawled out, got to her feet. Blouse, skirt, panties, bra. No shoes. Oh, God, she thought. That pungent aroma meant only one thing.

One step and the room swam.  She lurched to the doorway, held on.  Her belly heaved, that ugly taste.  She limped toward the kitchen, helped along by the lovely wall.

She rounded the corner, searching after the smell.  On the counter, her shoes. A note: name, phone number.

Best of all, coffee.


Author: Paul Krendler

The Thinking Man's Zombie

3 thoughts on “100 Word Challenge”

  1. The unshaven, unbathed creature adjusts his troop scarf, dons a 5 day shirt with his name and logo. Fingers quivering with rage and tequila, they blur smashingly down with a clatter on another endless laptop.

    Spewing, frothing, sleazing, the busy pornographers turbulent mind envisions the naked small bodies under the glaze of his filthily virtual endless imagination.

    Another unsellable work for the scintillation of his fellow pedophiles in training is on its way to infamy.

  2. Coffee...

    *raises eyebrow*


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