viviangivhan
"shit," he said, stumbling out of the car, "that was intense. you're one terrible driver."
"fuck you." I said, and slammed the door.
"It's not time to dick around, gentlemen. It's time to make an executive decision. Now, I'm not going to mince words here. I'm going to give it to you straight and goddammit, some of you may not like it. But I was a straight shooter when you met me and I'm not going to pussy foot around it now."
"listen," he said, "this ain't cheap. I can't just give it to you. You're gonna have to pay full price, just like anyone else." He leaned back, stretching his beefy arms behind his head, grinning at me.
I didn't think she looked cheap. Not until I got closer. Then it was obvious. I felt shame, because my first thought had been, "Man, she's pretty." But now I could see it. The torn jeans, the smeared eyeliner, the leering look she gave me. I felt dirty for even looking at her.
I want to say hello to you, but the table between us seems like it's pushing me away. I tap my fingers and hope you notice. You don't. You are reading Plath. I am trying to hate you, but when you push your hair back I feel sick, like I won't ever be able to feel good again unless you look up.
I see a lot of tables in my business. Oak, pine, cherry-wood. But the best table I ever saw was in at a craft fair, glistening in the sun, with a monkey sitting on it, holding a music box. I offered exorbitant prices, but the man wouldn't sell. The monkey laughed.
I just want you to be quiet and cut my hair. I want to sit here and stare into my own face in the mirror, watching the hair fall from your scissors. But you will not be silent. You chatter, tell me about your children, ask me about my wife. I am clenching my jaw.
writing since 2011 · 7 entries · 5 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Vivian showed up.
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5days written
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the words Vivian reaches for
hairnowtablemonkeycheapstraightquietcutsitstarefacemirrorwatchingfallscissorssilent