Excellent Short Story-Contest Entry Tennis Anyone? by michaelcahill Sentence writing prompt entry

Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language. I knew I would never see her again. She had no clue. She thought I lived in a little fantasy world of my own making. Ah yes, my darling dumpling, your little pooh bear just wuvs you so much. Him's in such a blissful little dweam world. Hims doesn't have a clue what you're up to with that empty-headed tennis bum pretending to teach your uncoordinated bottom-heavy ass how to play hit the green ball and titter.   The sound of that engine starting in that pink Camaro nearly brought me to orgasm. But, of course, you wouldn't know about that. You save that for him. It is lovely up here in Big Bear. I do love the fresh air and the snow. Oh, yes! The lovely white snow. It's so…so…white. Yes, white and…cold, yes, cold. White and cold a perfect combination. It reminds me of something…hmm…let me think…oh, I know, YOU! Ha! I'm in a swoon thinking about it.   You're on the road now. Winding cliffside road. Oh, piddle. Oh drat, where's the brakes? Tisk, Tisk. Is that a cliff coming up? My, this seems like an awfully steep highway. Is this a shortcut? Whoooo HOOOO!   Oh, I was so stiff cutting your brake-line I could have used my little wee willicker to sever the line.   Another glass of wine Mr. Killed His Cheating Bitch Wife? Oh, yes please, just leave the bottle, the guilt is just making me giggle soooo inappropriately. What's this? How sweet! A little love note. How I love your tender, illiterate little missives. I shall certainly miss these. Damn, this wine is going to my head. Soon, I'll go to bed. My poor wifey's dead. I'll get a dog instead. Wowzer! Great poem! Ah yes, my muse, even from the depths of hell, where you no doubt burn, you inspire me. Another sip, murder boy? Yes, please.   On your way to your little book reading club tonight? I imagine your extra special social-wocial booksey-looksey reading conclave has expanded your reading skills to the point where you are capable of pretended comprehension. Well, isn't that just a tasteless red grape in a cherry tart? I think it is so sweet that they allow slutty whores to their little "See Johnny Run" reads. I'd run too, Johnny, crotch less Depends? Not without a little PCP on a cracker.   Of course, you're not at the saggy-udder club are you, dear? No, you're with tennis boy rubbing the fur off those pesky green orbs of his. Gotta get the tension out of those strings. Hell, this metaphor is going nowhere. I like the metaphor of a woman driving a brakeless car off a cliff. That would be more of a limerick though:   There once was a frigid white bitch whose naughty bits had a great itch she saw the balls bounce on his racket she'd pounce now she's driving off a cliff in a car with no brakes my plan's going to work without a hitch.   Wow on a corn dog hitting the ground that a fat kid picked up, but didn't share. I am a dizzy tingly boy!   "Sir, how do you feel about the tragic news about your wife?"   "Well Datsun Toyota, sometimes I feel like a nut, and sometimes I don't. But, you are welcome to check it out for your own sense of quality journalism. Just no muckraking. That I shan't canonize."       Now, let's see if I can focus for a moment here and read this tender offering. Damn, Mick Jagger, isn't this some great wine? You stopped drinking? Why? Tell the truth, you were drunk when you sang with David Bowie, right? Okay, let me read this while I can still focus.   Dearest Dear, I paid the AAA bill this morning. I thought I may as well since the man was already here. Saved a stamp. See? I can be thrifty. Tee hee hee. I know that one little stamp doesn't make up for all of these years of disappointing you. I know that my body isn't up to your standards. Too bad, you don't have the same standards as every other man on the planet. I hope you are enjoying your wine and the paralytic agent that I spiked it with. OOPS! That was supposed to be a surprise. I guess by know though that you realize that you being paralyzed isn't a good stance for you. You just seem to have lost all your entertainment value.  One last dance, sweetie pie with ketchup? Whoooops. Forgot you're paralyzed. Well, I'm just blither-blathering. On with it then.   I suppose you thought you'd never see me again. Well, just one more time, my darling. I do want you to look into my eyes as you sit there helpless. It is a feeling I know well. Lucky for you I seek vengeance and not retribution. I am more kind than you. I don't plan on torturing you for years. By the way, my tennis game is improving dramatically.                                             See you soon,                                   That stupid bitch you married.   Writing Prompt Write a story that starts with this sentence: I knew I would never see him/her again Author Notes Not based on any actual fantasy or musing.

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