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Punks-A Thursday

Minnie was 14. She liked bright red lipstick and getting high.
And she needed to get high right now.
She stood in the doorway of the kitchen and watched her father, as he raged. She watched him twist off his tie; his hand suddenly flying in the air.
"Nowhere!" he yelled. Then he slammed his fist down into the green countertop; knuckles deep.
Minnie wanted to close her eyes.
"And go get that shit off your face. I do not know why you would even think I would let you out of this house looking like a whore. Jesus Christ, does your Mother let you leave the house like this in the morning?"
He grabbed his drink from the counter and stepped closer towards her.
"My daughter is a little whore," he said. He shrugged his shoulders. He shook his head. He laughed; looking upwards.
"My daughter is a whore," he said, softer.
Minnie bit her lip.
"You're such a bastard," she said. She had to or she would cry.
His finger flung up into her face and he leaned forward. His eyes looking right into hers.
"I'll be just as happy leaving you, as I am your Mother."

She lit the joint when she was downstairs. She did not open her windows; she did not turn on her fan.
She smoked the joint and begged her mind.
Please, please; think of anything else.
Minnie thought of Tommy.
She thought of Tommy and his warm body pressed against her. The smoothness of his chest. He was as skinny as her.
She thought of his tongue; darting into her mouth. His lips so much softer than she was sure her own lips were.
Minnie needed to feel anything besides what she could.
She needed to feel something inside of her, so she picked up her phone and called him.
"Is your girlfriend home?" she asked, when he answered.
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Comments

Karri Bowman said…
i love minnie and tommy. they are the perfect eminem song.
Wednesday, 17 November 2004 at 01:58:00 GMT-5
John Elder, MFT said…
Enjoyed your microfiction. Here's my review of it for Soul of the Web. I've got you bookmarked, and a link should appear on my bookmarks page within the week.

Elderbear
Fighting creeping fascism one HTML tag at a time.
Wednesday, 17 November 2004 at 02:52:00 GMT-5
ticknart said…
For a minute, I was afraid that Minnie's dad would wipe the lipstick off her face, but I wasn't sure if he was going to use his fist or lips. Thank goodness his drink distracted him.
Wednesday, 17 November 2004 at 20:29:00 GMT-5
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