RFW - Response to Picture

Friday, May 4, 2012

Today is the first regular posting since March for Romantic Friday Writers.  I don't know about our regular contributing members, but I've kinda missed this fortnightly (that's every two weeks) event.  I've had about six weeks to develop my excerpt - but like an avid procrastinator, I waited to the last minute.   I've had this risqué voice in my head for the longest time because of the prompt, and its made it hard to think of writing anything else.  I'm sure my RFW partner L'Aussie Denise won't mind taking the blame for planting such a fabulous concept in my head.

We've upped the word count for this prompt "A Night on the Town" to 600 words, but the specific requirements for posting are:

• You must respond to the stimulus in some way.
• From the image, choose who will be your viewpoint character.
• Place your character/s in one of the following settings:

              * a nightclub

              * last day of high school/college

              * at a carnival/festival

              * a private party

              * an exotic island

              * audition for a part in the latest Romeo + Juliet production

              * a combination of two or more of the above settings...

Anyway, I give you Mirror Image at 588 words; but I don't apologize for the content:

Joni shifted her weight in the low heeled pumps so she could get a better view of her behind in the opposite mirror.  She’d been primping the required blond, frizzy wig when the other two skank wannabee’s strutted in and planted their white mini-skirted hips directly in front of the mirrors,

“She looked like a natural girl,” one of them complained.  Her voice was so deep it was nearly a monotone.

“What was she thinking,” the other agreed, digging in her clutch bag.  She pulled out a tube of lipstick and began applying it to her over-colored, thick lips.

Joni cleared her throat and tried to move around them again.

Monotone girl cocked her hip and closed the space between herself and the lipstick queen; who grinned wickedly before dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a tissue.

“Par-don me,” Joni drawled with as much sarcasm as she could muster, and eased around lipstick woman to get to the sink closest to the door. 

The mirror didn’t have the reflection of its twin, so Joni had to stand in profile to worry over the too wide stretch of the mini across her hips.  No panty line showed – she wore support hose without even a g-string - but the material made her butt look too wide; like she’d put on weight and was still trying to fit into one size smaller.

Monotone and Lipstick girls giggled, tilting their heads close to whisper at each other’s cheek.

“She’s too nervous to be competition,” Monotone husked.

“And too tall,” Lipstick replied with a sly look at Joni.

Joni hunched, a bad habit from childhood.  As a male, she’d been on the short side of average at 5’8, but when she realized she was really a girl trapped in a guys body, her first act of self expression had been an obsession with four inch platforms.  The audition guidelines had been specific on the dress code; white mini-skirt, white halter; no bra; frizzy blond wig; and no more than two inches on the heels.

Her agent had told Joni where the exact costume could be purchased – but refused to pay for the expense.  “Cheap bastard,” she muttered to herself, bending close to the mirror to check her eyeliner.

“Ignore her,” Monotone gal admonished.  “That real girl will be sent away, like all the others.”

There were always a few natural girls at transvestite callings.  Joni couldn’t hate them for trying.  She ran sweat sheathed fingers down her throat, lingering on the small bump that used to be her Adams apple.

Her doctor’s said they’d never seen anyone take so naturally to the hormone treatments and surgeries.  She’d made them famous with her consent to post her transformation in medical and psychology journals as a case study; and lessened her costs considerably.  Sweat trickled between her 36C breasts, and Joni shimmied under the sudden chill, the halter and skirt readjusting itself more comfortably around her shape.

“Girl, you are so ready for this,” Joni encouraged herself, practicing the shimmy to use during the audition.

“Jonathan Sykes.  Last call for Jonathan Sykes,” Joni heard as the bathroom door opened.

It’d been years since she’d heard her given name spoken aloud - another audition criteria was to register under your birth name – and she hadn’t heard the first call.  Joni took a last look in the mirror, decided the colored distortion didn’t matter since she applied her make-up in the bright lights of the ready-room, squared her shoulders, and strode confidently towards her destiny.

* * *

Well, what do you think?  Really; I'm open to any and all feedback/critique.  Keep in mind however, this excerpt is written expressly for RFW, and is unlikely to be developed past this flash fiction piece.

And anyone can post on RFW, you do not have to be a member or follower to play along.  Response to the challenge does not have to be original, unpublished work. It can be an old story or poem, an extract from a WIP, a story that's been languishing on your flash drive and just needs a bit of a cut, paste and polish to fit the theme. Then you'll feel all self satisfied - you'll know why you kept that story or poem that just wouldn't cut it until now...

Response to the challenge does not have to be original, unpublished work. It can be an old story or poem, an extract from a WIP, a story that's been languishing on your flash drive and just needs a bit of a cut, paste and polish to fit the theme. Then you'll feel all self satisfied - you'll know why you kept that story or poem that just wouldn't cut it until now...

Sign up on the linky here if you are interested in posting with us.  The linky will be open through Sunday.  Next challenge prompt on 5/18 is a tribute to all the challenges that blogger/authors faced during April.