If Lorraine was a drink, she’d be tequila. Woman with a spring in her step and a sway in her hip, make you feel nice straight through till she put you flat on your back.

We met, she come out to Ray’s barbecue draped o’er the shoulder of his brother-in-law, what was his name? Gary. First thing to go were the shoes. Oh, but she was a darling. Made the rounds one by one with a puckery smile and wriggling toes always standing just a hair too close to the men front o’ their wives. You know every last one of ‘em slept on the couch that night.

I never saw Gary again but Lorraine stuck around. And I ain’t even too sure what I done to keep bringin’ her back, all’s I know is I enjoyed every minute of it. ‘Specially that olive dress, cut low on top and high on the bottom, t’ one she said she bought special for me on St. Patty’s. Looked even better off her.

Somebody said you got to watch out for the sins of the flesh, I didn’t believe till last week. That woman, tequila woman, she got a worm in her. Maybe a snake.

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Author guidance for This story

I wrote three chapters on Ficlets and wanted to publish the story here for others to expand upon. It's partly an experiment with a new narrator voice, and partly a foray into darker themes than I had previously written.

updated Dec 31 '08 by uselessness