Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Hips Like Cinderella

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I comb her wet hair and read a newspaper article about a young woman found disemboweled near when I went to school. It reminds me how I used to skip class by jumping over the fence at the back of the playing field before walking home along the old train tracks daydreaming about portals and a girl in my English class. Her name was Leah. She was blonde, and there wasn’t a single night I didn’t fantasize about her mammary glands. It shames me to think of such personal horrors, and it shames me that I overlooked the murder of an innocent in favor of reminiscing over past desires. Leah is now engaged with a successful job. I looked her up on social media. The same perfect smile- the same perfect body. And yes, I abused myself terribly following the discovery of those recent pictures of her. Sorry Leah. I drank far too much last night- the faces of others encouraged me- it wasn’t my fault. The sight of so many plastic people- I couldn’t help myself. In the early hours outside the bar we were drinking in, I remember some guy carrying his unconscious girlfriend across the road to a waiting taxi. It looked like a romantic gesture from a distance, but the guy had spent all evening referring to every girl he saw as a cunt, and with every cunt he uttered, the more his lover drank herself to oblivion. When he crossed the road, two policemen confronted him. For some reason, he dropped his lover to the ground and ran off. On returning home, I attempted to write but was far too drunk. Instead, I watched a link someone sent me of a Mexican guy getting his head cut off with a chainsaw- I was appalled and fascinated in equal measure. The sight of such an atrocity was brutal, but as soon as it ended, the offer of something more was too much to resist. Black stockings. Brunette. The usual. After, I smoked a cigarette and imagined myself as a child again. Eight years old. My bedroom decorated with posters of Hulk Hogan. Red lamp. Red blinds. Take me back if you can; take me back to when I was happiest- to when I was pure.

8 responses to “Hips Like Cinderella”

  1. You open this window into your mind and even though we are all invited to watch, I still feel like I’m peeking…this post feels far more personal than your usual ones…I feel like I shouldn’t, but I’m going to read it again x

    1. I’m glad you decided to peek, and twice at that! I read this quote recently- got a feeling it was by Chuck Palahniuk- and it was about how what we write should embarrasses us. If it doesn’t, then others wont find it interesting. That’s where I’m coming from I guess. And that’s what I look for in the work of others; I want to read about feelings and failure, not success and opulence 🙂 x

      1. I’ve certainly embarrassed myself plenty in the past with my writing 😉
        But yes, I get what you’re saying 🙂 x

      2. As long as we keep embarrassing ourselves, we’ll be okay. I’m sure of it 🙂 x

  2. Your absolute raw openness breaks me and means so much. In a world where the masses pretend theirs is the perfect life. There is so much power hidden in imperfection.

    1. Imperfection is perfection as far as I’m concerned 🙂 I’m very grateful you enjoy my words and that they mean so much to you. As long as we keep being honest, we will remain beautiful 🙂

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