Monday 19 September 2016

Jenny

At one of my writers' meetings last week, we had a prompt, why is Jenny drinking alone. This is what I came up with. 
For audio click here


Jenny pulled down on the hem of her skirt again. She looked around the bar and took a sip of her Bacardi and Coke. She’d have loved a pint, but ladies didn't drink pints round here. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and played with her earring.  She knew no one was looking at her, but she felt like everyone was.
Just any young woman, on any night out in any town in Middle America, she told herself. Be tall, be proud, love yourself.
She pulled at the hem of her skirt again, then adjusted her bra strap, the bloody underwire was cutting in, but there was nothing she could do but grin and bear it. She could hardly take her bra off in here could she?
Maybe she should go home, maybe this was a crazy idea. Who was she trying to kid? It was too soon; she wasn't ready for this yet. She pulled at her hem and tried to smile. Surely a smile was all she needed, just relax and enjoy yourself.
Shit was that Gary, it looked like Gary, it couldn't be Gary, not in a place like this. The last thing she needed was to see Gary. She didn't know if he'd even recognise her, but if he did, well, that didn’t bare thinking about.
Gary turned around and smiled at her. God, she’d been staring.  It wasn't him, but the smile scared her. No, she wasn't ready; it was time to get home.

Jenny folded the clothes neatly and put them back in the bag which she then put on top of the wardrobe out of the way. Would she ever wear them again?  She took a cleansing pad and carefully wiped the make-up away from her face staring intently in the mirror at the transformation. It always amazed her how the layer of greasepaint changed her completely. When her face was clean she bent over and released the strapping allowing her penis to fall free. Now she could relax, now he could be Benny again. 

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