New Year’s Underpants

29 Dec

clothes line by unwantedthoughtssupply

 As you were expecting, here is the promised second half of our end of the year creative project.

All you ever wanted to read about underwear, and more, with the special appearance of wordplay.

You know you want to take a peek…

………………………………………..

         Shift-shift. Scratch-scratch. Slide-slide. A move in the dark and a scream, a squeak, a howl. Two pudgy hands diving under the pillow, yanking something out and pulling at it. Two puppy eyes welling up with crystalline tears. The shadow shushes—the tiny mouth opens to let out a fresh, heart-wrenching wail. The shadow coos—the fluffy hands tear the fabric to shreds. The shadow leans over to inspect—the glinting eyes shoot daggers.

“UNDERWEAR?!” the shrill voice pierces the night and makes the Devil hide under his bed.

“Well, what exactly were you expecting to get for a tooth’s worth?”

– Elle Va où Elle Veut

………………………………………..

         After taking a bath and washing away the sins of the day or, mayhaps, the night, what do you feel? How do you remember it? Do you pause for a moment?

 This is what I feel:

         Fresh cotton coiling up my legs, past twitching royal-purple ankles, tactfully brushing against my tenséd calves, ignoring sculpted shins and bruiséd knees, hurrying to make its way toward a vision of marble, milky thighs.

They then lull and linger a bit more…

What next? What could possibly come next, compete, complete?

Then, swiftly, an eerie warm embrace engulfs me.

Gosh, I love new underwear.

– Unwanted Thoughts Supply

………………………………………..

         The subway stopped, the doors slid open she stepped in. The sudden realisation that I had a blank expression on my face, in conjunction with the wide eyed stare I could not suppress. She sat down, she looked at me. I got scared I turned away. I looked again she looked at me. I got scared once more and turned away. I looked again, she waved at me. The acute sensation that I was missing something, how could I? What was I? Why was I walking towards her? I looked at her…smile

Me: Whatchoo got under there

Her: Underwhere

-A87A

………………………………………..

         She was all over me. It was all over me! Fake, cheap, trashy, unclean. Plastic. Trying to move made me feel worse. Everything made it worse. A light smell of garbage–organic and feeling of terrible disgust, growing, growing… A dim hope that this parallel claustrophobic universe was going to dissipate and I’d return to my own was the only thing keeping me from bursting into tears. Stained. I felt stained. By something or someone too horrible to be explained.

It felt like one of Lovecraft’s nightmares.

Marked by a curse or an irreversible affliction.

Diseased.

I closed my eyes.

– The Death of Infinite

………………………………………..

         We were precariously dangling from a cliff, the sight of our immediate death visible below. I turned to her and stared into her eyes, hoping she’d find a way out of this.

“Look, there’s something to the right, under there,” she instructed.

“Under where?”

“Oh, stop acting like a teenage boy for once, will you?”

“What?!”

“Look, we’re in this mess because you were trying to get into my pants in the first place! So stop talking about my underwear when we’re about to die!”

“…Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“You know, when this is over, we’re getting a divorce…”

– Shiver Me Sideways

………………………………………..

Thank you for following us in our writing adventures for the past weeks!

We’ll return with fresh posts in 2012.

Happy New Year!

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