Tag Archives: Prompts

A prompt request

17 Jan

Hey guys, so it Saturday already. This year sure is flying swiftly by, huh? It’s already the freaking 17th. Wow!

Anyway, just wanted to ask for some writing prompts for tomorrow. You know, Short Story Sunday and all. I feel like a challenge.

So, don’t feel shy. Just leave me a comment for a prompt on what you’d like tomorrow’s story to be about.

Follow me on twitter Dee@The perks

-Dee

Short Story Sunday #1

4 Jan

Hi guys, so this is just a new segment for my blog. On sundays I’ll be posting short stories that are from the ‘My writing’ folder on my laptop. Hopefully I can be posting weekly. It’s just a way for me to practice my writing and I’d appreciate your comments and feedback.

Note: The story you’re about to read was first posted on FF. I wrote it last year. I wanted it to be the first one that goes under my Short Story Sunday before I start sharing anything fresh 😀

TITLE: Just Her Luck…
Word Count: 2000

If there was one word that could be used to describe me other than boring or predictable, it would have to be…average.

I am of average height. I got average results in college and I was probably going to attend an interview that will take me one step closer to having an average job, so I can look forward to an average pay check. Pretty dull if you ask me.

The only thing about me that is beyond average is my hair. Most people who looked at me would think I was trying to rebel against society or something. Like it’s the last stand of a post teen female in her quest to be noticed or stand out. Because let’s face it, how many normal people walk around with pink hair? How many of those people are 22 year olds? My guess is, not that many.

The day I was going for my job interview at Lloyd and Daka started out like any normal day. I remember it very well because it’s a day that’s etched deeply and painfully in my brain. I’d gotten up, taken a quick shower and put on a tight fitting, knee length little black dress with my one good pair of platform heels. Lloyd and Daka was the most successful law firm in Ching City. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t study law and so my job interview was as a personal assistant.

The job market was a joke and so when I got the call for the interview, you can imagine my surprise and if I’m honest…my joy. It was going to be my big break. My one shot at making something of my life.

I left the loft I was sharing with my crazy room mate. By crazy I don’t mean, ‘padded cell and meds’ crazy but more like crazy spontaneous. I like her. We have been friends since high school and she is so close to me I sometimes see her as my sister. My crazy sister. She hadn’t come home the night before. She’d been on another one of her nights out with her boyfriend. Good for her.

Being an only child and coming from an average family, you can guess where I stand when it comes to wheels. I don’t have a car. If I should over share, I might as well mention that I have never even owned a bicycle. So it was walking and getting on buses and cabs for me.

One thing to be grateful for that day was that it wasn’t raining anymore. It had poured cats and dogs the night before but as I was walking on the sidewalk that day, the only reminder that it was the rain season was the wet ground and the puddles in the busy streets.

I was seriously rethinking wearing heels this high. Maybe I should’ve put on flats until I was near the interview building. But as I continued walking, I knew it was too late to do anything about it. Turning back would mean risking being late.

My stomach rumbled. Damn it. Just great. I’d forgotten to have breakfast. My phone suddenly buzzed and I found it was a text from my room mate and friend. The crazy one.

Her text was just wishing me all the best in my interview. See what I meant? She’s the best. I sent her a quick ‘thanks’. Note to self: Remember to turn the phone off.

I put my phone away and right after that, before I even had a chance to look up, I bumped into someone. I stumbled and struggled to keep myself standing and in my attempt not to fall, my heel broke and I almost fell to the damp ground.

The guy I had bumped into tried to help me. He ended up smearing mustard all over my dress instead. The hot dog he’d been about to eat fell, travelling down the length of my dress in a trail of gooey yellow until it reached the dirty, wet ground. The folder containing my credentials dropped to the ground as well.

I was only relieved because it was made of plastic and the papers inside were all safe.

“Shit!” I swore. No. No. No. How the heck was I supposed to attend an interview when I looked like I’d just been molested by hotdogs and mustard?

“Are you okay?” he enquired.

“Do I seriously look okay?” I picked up the folder, looked at my ruined dress and felt my heart sink, “Look what you just did to my dress and shoes.” I stood awkwardly, one leg higher than the other, feeling like tears were going to pour from my eyes any second. I didn’t even have any glue on me. My poor heels.

“Maybe not such a good idea to wear heels if you can’t walk in them.” His voice was calm and low. “But judging by your hair, I take it you are not a person known to make good decisions.”

“Excuse me?!” what the hell? I looked up at him and stared into his dark eyes. His lips curved in an annoying smirk. The son of a bitch actually had the audacity to smirk at me. I was livid.

“Hey, don’t bite my head off because you were too busy texting and acting like a teen instead of actually looking where you were going.” He put his hands in his pants pockets, making his tailored suit look even more fitted.

“Are you seriously going to blame me for this? You’re the one stuffing yourself with a hotdog in the early morning and rubbing mustard all over my dress.”

“Okay, my bad.” he looked me straight in the eyes and I could see the amusement in his, “Though I doubt it looked any better before.” He said under his breath but I heard him loud and clear. My blood boiled over. The hot dog seller faced away like he was embarrassed for me. How had the day turned out like this?

“You rude ass.” I said. My nostrils flaring like a bull about to charge towards a matador.

His laughter came out throaty and some of his pitch black hair came on his face. He ran his hands through it and it just annoyed me more, “That’s not very ladylike.”

“Ladylike?” I snorted. “And this isn’t funny. I am far from feeling like a lady right now, so I sure as heck will not act like one.” I bent over to get the heel that had detached from my one good shoe. Yeah, I knew I should have worn flats until I reached the building.

“Sir, we have to get going.” A muscular man stood next to us and motioned that the rude hotdog-eating man follow him.

The black haired man sighed and put his hand back in his pocket. “I guess we do.” He started walking away, “Oh, one more thing…” Reaching in his jacket, he grabbed his wallet and took out 5 notes, the highest denomination, which he put in my hands, “get yourself a better dress and new shoes.”

I slapped his hand away and the money dropped to the ground. “Screw you. I don’t need your money. So what, you think because daddy dearest can bend to your will and get you everything you desire, that it’s okay to treat people like this? You are pathetic.” I spat out.

He recoiled a bit and then smirked again. “Well, aren’t you a feisty one.” He walked away, leaving the money on the ground, “Get the money or don’t, I don’t really care. That foolish poor person’s pride will get you nowhere.” He climbed in the back seat of the expensive looking car and opened the window slightly, “Though I must add, between the one who has a personal driver and the one who is standing on the pavement with one shoe on and covered in mustard, who is really looking pathetic? Mmh?”

My lips twitched in annoyance and I thought I would scream out. “You rich people are all the same. Dicks, through and through.”

He smirked at me and the window started closing. “Good day.” The car drove off, leaving me fuming and wishing I had a gun or something. I got my phone and saw that I still had forty minutes till my interview time.

There had to be a cheap boutique with formal wear around here somewhere. Screw that infuriating son of a bitch and his money. I looked at the notes still by my feet. They stayed there for a second, taunting me, laughing at me. Then they blew away and a homeless man nearby dove for them. A huge smile formed on his face. Christmas had come early. Better him than me, I didn’t need that guy’s hand-outs.
What an ass.

With a frown on my face, I rushed awkwardly down the street, wearing one high heeled shoe and one broken one. This was probably what people referred to as a walk of shame. I finally saw a promising little boutique. It had in stock various designs of suits and dresses. The pencil skirts looked great and the bodycon dresses looked even better. The best part was that they were all affordable. I picked up a knee-high navy blue formal dress and black heels. I knew it was not a planned shopping outing and it would come and bite me in the ass later on but I still gave the cashier my debit card. Once I got the job, the money would be replaced.

I put the soiled LBD in a bag and started off for my destination.

~xoxo~

So, despite the crapstatic luck I’d had earlier, I’d managed to make it in time with 10 minutes to spare. Thanks universe, so maybe you aren’t a complete bitch after all. I walked to the receptionist and told her my business. She directed me to the elevator and told me the interviews were being conducted on the 10th floor.

Taking the elevator to the 10th floor, my heart started racing. The elevator door finally opened once I had reached the right floor and I took in a deep breath before I stepped out. My heels tapping as I took each step.

There were about five girls waiting in the foyer. Competition. I walked to the desk where a beautiful blonde was sitting. She looked more Victoria’s Secret Angel than personal assistant.

“Good morning.” I said, a smile on my face. “My name is Kristen Hamis. I have an interview at 9 o’clock.”

“Good morning. You are just in time.” She
replied, “Please take a seat. There is still someone in the office at the moment.”

“Thank you.” I told her and made my way to the seats. A smile was on my face as I said hi to the other girls.

Sitting down, my feet on the floor and the folder on my laps, I prepared to wait until my time came. My strength left me when I saw one distraught girl running out of the large office with the glass doors and walls. She was in tears and held her papers to her chest.

How tough was the interviewer?

The girl behind the desk shook her head and picked up the phone. She listened for a second and then put it back down. My heart raced.

“Miss Hamis,” I heard the blonde woman call for me, “he’s ready for you.” She gave me a smile that told me to be strong, or maybe I was just imagining it. Why would she offer me comfort?

My feet stood firmly on the ground and straightened my dress. Putting one foot in front of the other, I made my way to the office praying I didn’t come out of there in tears as well. I pushed the glass door and entered. I pushed further inside and the man seated by the table looked up at me. His black eyes made contact with brown ones and he smirked. My heart stopped beating. My legs froze where they stood. Oh God, please, no.

How much bad luck could one girl possibly have? My interviewer, my potential employer, my possible boss…was the jerk from the hot dog stand.

I immediately said bye to any hopes of getting this job. I’d called him a dick, an ass and told him ‘screw you’ right to his face. I was doomed. This was over for me.

“Good morning Miss Hamis, I’m Josh Lloyd…junior.” He stood up from his seat and gestured to the one opposite his, “Please, do take a seat.”

My legs couldn’t move as I looked at his clearly amused face. He obviously remembered me.

I took it back…the universe is a complete bitch.

The end.

Xoxo

I wanted the first one to be slightly long 🙂

Follow me on twitter Dee@The perks

-Dee

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