By @bananafish #finishthestory

The Prompt

Plain Vanilla

I am woken up by the smell of coffee, wafting through the apartment. I stretch under the warm sheets and force myself to get up. I get dressed for work before following my nose into the kitchen.
My girlfriend is standing on her tiptoes. The bottom of her nightdress softly inching up her bare legs as she reaches into the cupboard for a mug. I reach past her and grab the one she had been struggling to grasp. She huffs and a sloppy grin spreads across my face. I’m not a tall person on average, but it has been entertaining having someone smaller around.
I take out a mug for myself and fill it to the brim with the pungent black liquid. I inhale deeply, savouring the warmth. A pang of guilt fills me as I take my first sip, I had promised my doctor I would cut down.

“I made you some lunch, it’s in the fridge, and I have a surprise for dinner.”

“Thank you.” I open the fridge and pull out the brightly coloured plastic box, my heart sinks slightly knowing its most likely a salad. Another recommendation from my Doctor. “What’s the surprise?” I ask knowing full well I won’t get a straight answer.

She laughs at me and hides behind her mug. “What time will you be home?”
I shrug. “Probably after seven, those roadworks are still there.” I finish my coffee and put the empty mug in the sink. I kiss my girlfriend goodbye and head out to work, regretting leaving her looking so seductive.
My drive to work is boring. I pass the workers as they are setting up their equipment and make a mental note of the time delay.

I get into work and say a few greetings to people I barely know. 5 years at the company and I hardly know anyone beyond my own department. After 2 meetings,1 completed report and many, many cups of coffee, I finally get to zone out on my lunch.

I take the lid off of my lunchbox, I was right to assume it was a salad. Everything has been neatly prepared, even the tomatoes are cut into little flowers. I can’t help but smile at the love and attention she’s given it. I text her.
Lunch is amazing love.

A smaller pot contains a mix of fruit along with a note reminding me to go for a walk. My Doctor suggested to do more exercise during the day, which is difficult when I’m chained to a desk for 8 hours. But I have thirty minutes left and a walk in the fresh spring air feels like a good idea.

I wrap up and set an alarm on my phone to warn me when I need to turn around. The street is quiet with only the occasional car hurtling past. I fall into a steady rhythm and concentrate on my breathing.
That’s when I see the blue lights flashing in the distance.

My bit starts here

Must be an accident, I’d imagine. A crowd gathered around a damaged vehicle or an injured person, eager to see what happened. As if they could or would do something to help? Nope. They just gather to watch. An incident from Pulp Fiction popped in the mind when overdosed Uma Thurman was given a shot of adrenaline in the heart. That famous episode when Travolta tells her “Say something” and she responded “Something”. And then the other girl who saw all the spectacle said: “That was tripping!” Surely, she didn’t have a tincture of compassion. For her, it was an entertainment, just like that accident for all the bystanders, who circled around the blue light.

Nope. Not going there. Turned left. Walked for another five minutes and turned back. Sat at my table, pretending to do something. Honestly, my eyelids were closing. They say if you walk for thirty minutes after lunch, it helps. NOT. After lunch, I feel like a bear in the fall – ready for a nap.

Thank god, no one comes and bothers me. What really helps is that almost all the people in our department hate their jobs. I say almost because the old Williams actually likes it. His wife died and while he’s at work it takes his mind off it. He fears what will happen when he retires. I know what will happen. Oh, well, I shouldn’t go there. God forbid something like this could happen to my Maggi. I’d be in deep shit.

Phooey. No shit. Her little body emerged in my mind. Everything’s tiny, fragile, by so proportional, so desirable, so sweet. I remember how I got literally went bananas when I saw her the first time. I just wanted her so bad, instantly. And boy, oh ’boy, God only knows what she’s got between her legs. It took me some time to get there, but once I did, it was just Heaven on earth. I don’t tell her this. Don’t want this to get to her head. I actually don’t understand what she found it me; I am of average appearance, make average money. She could have gotten herself a much better cath.

She told me she’s got a surprise for me. Probably cake of something. And they say that the way to man’s heart is through his stomach. Maybe when it comes to other women, but not my Maggi. I can just imagine. Shit, I am getting excited even thinking about her.

I should admit though, she’s a good cook. Love all her stuff. Could eat it forever. Never suffered from the absence of appetite. If fact, the doctor… Stop! Don’t go there. Who cares what he said. Maggie, Maggie, Maggie. How long before I go home. Looked at the watch. Only two o’clock. Four more hours and I’ll be home. Home. Maggie. We’ll eat and she’ll rumble about this and that. Who cares? Then we get to the bedroom and I’m gonna get her. No, It won’t be fast. I can afford to take my time. I want to possess every inch of her body.

Shit. Another three hours and forty-five minutes to be here. And they say that after first six months of spice and romance it’s all plain vanilla from there. Not with my Maggie. Maggie, Maggie, Maggie….My Maggie.