Old Scratch (Part IV) - A fiction confection for Freewrite # 259 - sell out
Greetings fellow Steemians! Here is my 67th 5 minute freewrite. (Disclaimer: these usually take me significantly longer than 5 minutes to write and edit). The prompt was "sell out".
This is Part III of a series that began here: https://steemit.com/freewrite/@bennettitalia/old-scratch-a-fiction-smidgen-for-freewrite-199-her-homemade-jams
...and continued here: https://steemit.com/freewrite/@bennettitalia/old-scratch-part-ii-a-fiction-smidgen-for-freewrite-201-important
...and here: https://steemit.com/freewrite/@bennettitalia/old-scratch-part-iii-a-fiction-tidbit-for-freewrite-250-core-values
I'm tagging @honeydue, @rensoul17, @megan.emerald, and @mariannewest on this one! ;D
Come check out the goings on at @freewritehouse! Many thanks to @mariannewest for hosting this wonderful daily freewrite :) https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/day-259-5-minute-freewrite-thursday-prompt-sell-out
https://pixabay.com/en/mirror-mirror-of-souls-magic-mirror-ghos-1662178/
Old Scratch (Part IV)
Dante's Inferno was an upscale restaurant located in a seedy industrial wasteland part of town. A sanctuary for the lucky few. A beacon of civilization set against a backdrop of abandoned and barely-used buildings, slapdash graffiti, squatters, addicts, burnouts, gutter punks, panhandlers and general post-apocalyptic urban decay. The pretension of fear each wealthy patron experienced on the short walk from valeted car (at the curb) to neon lit entryway (halfway along a poorly lit and poorly maintained alley) gave it a mystique of danger, which only added to its allure. It was housed on the cavernous ground floor of an ancient warehouse. Mile high ceilings, exposed ductwork, crumbling brick, and cast iron cornices set the stage for a tastefully lit, minimalist, but oddly intimate atmosphere. The kind of trick you could only pull off if you had enough cash to hire the best designers. This place had cost somebody a fortune.
Lucien took Rhonda's hand as he ushered her over the threshold, then followed her to the hostess's station. "Reservation for two," he smiled, "Angelo". The hostess nodded. "Right this way please."
Rhonda was impressed, in spite of herself. This guy was the real deal. And to think she'd met him at the farmer's market when she was tending her sister's booth. Maybe good deeds did get rewarded after all. Or... maybe it was just random chance.
Her stomach sank a little at the thought of the market. Nerves. It would be ok, she told herself. They would talk, over dinner, and she would be sure to tell Lucien about her youthful but very promising career at one of the country's top brokerage firms, her love of all things tasteful (translation: 'expensive'), and her honest distaste for farmer's markets and other crunchy hippie nonsense.
Lucien pulled a chair back for her when they arrived at their table, gentlemanly to a fault. She sat, sipping expensive white wine and making small talk, so as not to seem impolite, though in point of fact she desperately needed to pee, and the sipping was only making it worse. After a few minutes she excused herself and went off in search of a restroom.
The reflection in the mirror stopped her in her tracks. It was her face. No question. That was her. But the clothes... she looked down at her own body, panic rising in her chest. She was definitely still wearing the little black thing she'd picked out earlier. She touched her hair. It was still cut in the cute bob she'd opted for last time she'd been to the stylist. So why was her mirror image dressed like some kind of modern day hipster beatnick? With like twenty barrettes in her short cropped hair, which stuck out in every direction, like a porcupine, or a coffee mug full of paintbushes?
"Hey," said the image in the mirror.
Rhonda jumped and let out a little squeak of terror, clapping her hands to her mouth to keep it from becoming a hysterical scream. She looked around, just to be sure. Nope, nobody else here. No one in the ladies' room to see how crazy she was acting. Thank God. She was all alone, just her and... and... whoever that was. The Rhonda in the mirror.
Mirror Rhonda eyed her skeptically. "Look, we don't have much time, he's going to get suspicious eventually. Do you remember anything?" she asked. "Do you remember how you got here? Where you came from"
Rhonda kept her hands firmly pressed to her mouth, her eyes wide, her body beginning to shake. She shook her head slowly.
"He took your imagination away. Me, I'm the real you, the way you used to be before your imagination disappeared."
Rhonda bit her tongue, hard. This must be some kind of break with reality, some kind of extreme neurosis or... or psychosis. Oh God. She had to get a grip on herself. This guy was the most promising thing she'd come across in years, and she really liked him. At least, what she knew of him. Which, ok, wasn't much... mostly the fact that he had money. And that he was such a gentleman. And the cute British accent. OhGodohGodohGod why now? If she was suddenly going to just lose her grip on reality, why did it have to be now?
"He promised to give it back," mirror Rhonda was saying. "it was only supposed to be a sample. But at this point I don't know if I trust him. He hasn't given it back yet, and it's been hours. I think he's trying to sell us out."
©2018 Bennett Italia All Rights Reserved
horizontal rulers courtesy @cryptosharon
You are a great writer. I read and followed each of your posts. It is very interesting to read this article. In this article, each character is beautifully presented. Especially the Rhonda character has emerged as the real venerable character of society. The story structure of the story is very beautiful and every speech has been alive. Thank you for sharing the post.
Thanks @anixon! I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing, thanks for following :)
Sorry to say, but the above comment is spam, I think. I got almost the exact same one by this same user..:/
lol I had a feeling it might be. But you know, I try to be polite just in case. Thanks for the heads up :D
buen post mano how are you today ?
hey! I'm feeling good today Danny, how about you?
fino bro aqui en la lucha
Congratulations! This post has been upvoted from the communal account, @minnowsupport, by bennettitalia from the Minnow Support Project. It's a witness project run by aggroed, ausbitbank, teamsteem, theprophet0, someguy123, neoxian, followbtcnews, and netuoso. The goal is to help Steemit grow by supporting Minnows. Please find us at the Peace, Abundance, and Liberty Network (PALnet) Discord Channel. It's a completely public and open space to all members of the Steemit community who voluntarily choose to be there.
If you would like to delegate to the Minnow Support Project you can do so by clicking on the following links: 50SP, 100SP, 250SP, 500SP, 1000SP, 5000SP.
Be sure to leave at least 50SP undelegated on your account.
i remember i used to free write back in college, just not anymore :)
i've lost interest in writing. but cool stuff!
Thank you my friend :) Glad you enjoyed it!
Amazing!! <3 You know, since we were just speaking of Sandman, when I started reading I was like 'huh, this Inferno, it's kinda like the bar Lucifer opens when he leaves Hell (Lux)', but then I read a bit more and I realized that oh no, it's way better. I mean the first paragraph alone is a beautiful piece of writing, not to mention the rest!
Angelo? Where are you leading us with this, B? :P
And what have you got against women in little black things and nice hair? you're not saying they lack imagination, are you? :p
Please, please, please keep writing this, I am loving this series. There is just so much potential here (and in you, in general)!
XD LMAO thanks for this awesome response!
ok, first of all don't get me wrong. I love little black things and nice hair! When it's a conscious choice. But wearing it reflexively, because that's what you wear on a classy date... Well, let's just say the real Rhonda would've made it a point to mix it up a little bit. And who's to say old school Rhonda's artpunk barrette hairdo didn't look nice? I mean, porcupines have their charms too! As do paintbrushes come to think of it ;D
As for the name, put together it's "Lucien Angelo". I guess even after all of this time he still likes to pay homage to his angelic roots.
Odd that without her imagination she can't see him as he truly is, only as the image he wishes to project... I'm not sure at all of the philosophical implications of this story yet. It's a lot hazier than The Strangeling series, where I was pretty sure about where I was coming from, and definitely less clear cut than Poison. I'm kinda working out what those implications are as I go along, hoping that the story will reveal them to me, and that in the end I at least somewhat agree with its perspective lol. I honestly have no idea of where the plot is going either, which is why it's taking so long between installments. I have to get comfortable each time with the idea of taking another blind step forward.
Finally... did you say Dante's Inferno is "way better" than Gaiman's bar?
Holy f#$%.
How do you respond to that? Thank you. That is so far beyond a compliment I don't even know what to say :)
I'm so glad you are still loving the series, it lets me know I'm on the right track!
I love how you're talking as if you're just as surprised by the story as I am. Well, I suppose you are...trust me, I know the feeling :D
I simply adore this. Best description of a writer's point of view like ever!
Yesss, I noticed and I adore that! I've always seen Lucifer as an angel, rather than the Devil, much closer to Gaiman's portrayal of him, rather than any of the crazy Biblical things you get nowadays.