Minnesota Menage
by Jack Swenson
I tiptoe down the hall, open a door and squeeze into the room, which is as lightless as the inside of a minnow bucket. I can't see a thing, but I know where she is. I peel off my shorts and Gopher Nation tee-shirt, step out of my shoes, and crawl into bed. She wakes up then. "Oh, my goodness," she says.
I talk to her, whispering endearments and flattery. I tell her how incredible it feels to be between her legs. I describe the sensations in graphic language, using with relish all the naughty words. When I tell her what a nice, big behind she has, she giggles. "Heroic," she says.
The alcohol in my bloodstream becomes my ally, and my youth gives me strength, and I ride her until the bedsprings sing the Ode to Joy. Then we hear the thump of flesh and bone hitting hardwood. Her husband, my friend, mumbling and grumbling, climbs back into bed. Our athletics bit by bit bounced him to the edge of the mattress, and he rolled off onto the floor.
I lie on my back staring up into the bright darkness with milady's head on my shoulder. Both of us are shaking. We lie there, the fulsome woman and her ardent swain, laughing our heads off without making a sound.
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Author's Note
This one was a finalist in one of Opium's bookmark contests.
Sure lines with a jolt: "Her husband, my friend, mumbling and grumbling, climbs back into bed."
Are you qualified to apply for grants in MN? I was a judge in 2007 for state grants, and I would have gone swinging my bat for this one.
It reminds me that the Arts Board asked me to judge again this year, and when I asked for accommodations in St. Paul (like the Bemidji judges get), they didn't get back to me.
This is a great piece, Jack. Great style - a lot in a small space. Enjoyed it.
Shoulda won the contest
Fantastic, such feisty language
The line Ann points out really ratchets this one up.
Your favorite writers of short short fiction are mine as well, or many of my favorites. There are so many out there. Jeff Landon is insanely talented.
Oh how I long for those big, Scandinavian behinds! Gopher-Nation - too much, Ski-U-Mah. Really dug this one.
Really funny, and yet slightly disturbing. I've been to enough parties up here in Minnesota to know that this could possibly happen. I guess as long as you're not the one getting knocked to the floor, it's not so bad, right? Nice story.
You baaaaaad...
Thanks to all the above (or below) for your comments on my story. Is this a great site, or what?
Totally sexual yet without one "naughty" word. Wonderfully refreshing and well done.
Something to ponder, or not, no need to answer it here:
Susan points out the one spot in the story that raised a question for me: IS there a way, maybe there is NO way, to "talk dirty" in the story without creating offense? I used to think of Ronald Sukenick for dialogue when I had a question like this one.
Ann, I would think yes, though you might offend some people--there's always that no matter whether it's "dirty" words or controversial topic. I once told a fellow CW student in a critique that it he overused the word "fuck" and thus it lost its impact and I found myself reading over it instead of it having the importance it should have had in his story.
My sister was reading one of my stories last week and stopped when she got to the "f" verb.
Lost her.
I've heard her say "intimacy," but what's the verb for that?
I hear people in Minnesota say "do it."
The dirty equivalent of "kootchy, kootchy, koo."
Ann
I forgot about "do it." A useful reminder for the next time I write a story about the old days in Minn. Thanks!
...adding Minnesota to my Spring-Break short list... great stuff, Jack.
heee!!!! love. Especially "heroic".
In Minnesota, we don't say the F-word. We say "Goin' to Iowa," because there's only one thing to do there....
John
I admire your courage living in a part of the country so close to Iowa.
It's great how you captured this "stolen" moment and the husband rolling off the bed is hilarious.
David,
Thanks. Glad you got a kick out of the story.
"The party's over. Harpo's propped up against a wall with a waste basket on his head. One of the Swedish nurses is curled up in an armchair."
AND
"laughing our heads off without making a sound."
Love it. Makes me wanna get drunk n rent a lady
Michael,
Thank you. An interesting reaction!
Great surprise. And the joy in it is wonderful also.
I've never been to Minnesota but I liked this very much.
Though I don't necessarily believe a young man would say "my youth gives me strength" - don't all young people believe they are invincible and will be forever so?
What I liked best about this was the rhythm. I'm still not sure how, but it carried me through, like a melody, surprising for its length.
Made me smile.
"...and I ride her until the bedsprings sing the Ode to Joy." Ah, to be young again. Or religious. Very nice story.
I really like the meatiness of this and yet it's so subtle, too. The turn you take from the triumphant Ode to Joy to the thump of flesh and bone hitting hardwood" is masterful. Music and reality all at once. Love that.
Jane, Ani, Rebecca, Michelle...Thank you all for your applause, even those who were clapping with one hand.
It stopped my eye when the lady labeled her nice, big behind as "Heroic". Then again, it was good of her guest to compliment her. Hubby must of overdosed; he fell on the floor as "the bedsprings sing the Ode to Joy." A very compact read with impact. Fav.
"as lightless as the inside of a minnow bucket"--a simile that speaks from experience!
"The alcohol in my bloodstream becomes my ally"--indelibly phrased.
"I lie on my back staring up into the bright darkness with milady's head on my shoulder."--perfectly modulated.
As others have said--should have won.
Here's a fav to put you over the top.
Someday I would like someone to tell me I have a heroic behind.