Saturday, August 20, 2005

Flash Fiction #4 - A Lou Reed Day

The day was hot, but there was ice in their glasses that had not yet melted. The ice was not alone, of course. It was in the good company of tequila, Grand Marnier, lime juice, and sour mix. The Golden Margarita - champion of the Ritas.

The Goldens had been made by her boyfriend, who had then brought the perfect pitcher to the two of them on the beach. He poured the drinks, gave his girl a kiss on the lips, her friend a kiss on the forehead, and told them to enjoy. Then he left.

They laughed and gossiped. They smoked Marlboro Lights and read trash magazines to each other. They made fun of the various people on the beach; the women with fake boobs, the men with back hair. They gorged themselves on subs and washed them down with their icy Goldens. They toasted to past loves and mortifying moments.

They took dips in the warm sea, staying in so long their skin pruned. They giggled when the young lifeguards checked them out as they walked back to their chairs. The familiar combination of Coppertone, bulkhead tar, and Atlantic Ocean scented the air. The summer soundtrack of seagulls cawing and waves breaking wafted in the background. Sand sifted between their toes. They leaned their chairs back and let the late afternoon sun dry the salt water on their skin.

Just a perfect day.

30 comments:

MoDigli said...

Oooohhhh!! It does sound like a perfect day! I actually felt everything and imagined myself at the beach, too! Loved it! :)

gone said...

yeah brooke, that was great imagery! I felt like I was there enjoying the day with those two girls. Great job!

Brian said...

In the words of Paris Hilton: "That's hot!"

Not so sure about the backhair comment...Its a chronic problem, ok?!

Lushy said...

More Goldens over here, please!

TrueJerseyGirl said...

You know I love any story with margaritas in them!

blog administrator said...

I think a perfect day is when I sign a bill to cut down acres and acres of previously protected forrests.

Übermilf said...

That's because trees cause pollution. You're always looking out for us, George, and that's why I don't question anything you do or say.

All Hail Bush!

Marel Lecone said...

Sounds like a great boyfriend! Made the margaritas and let the girls enjoy them on their own. Must be fiction . . . heehee :)

BamaGirl said...

You are such a talented writer with an eye for detail! I think you should be a novelist in your spare time...seriously! I felt like I was back in Florida at the hot beach! Are you thinking of a story for your first novel? You should be! You could do a contest on your blog for the best idea.

Girl With An Alibi said...

oh Brooke, I love that. You just combined like three of my favorite memories into one. Awesome.

Anthony said...

I love that lou reed song. And this post.

The Moviequill said...

my faves are the goldens too...I had one tonight in fact, thank you for keeping the buzz alive

Melody said...

Nice job, Brooke. I can feel the sand between my toes.

Loz said...

this was so relaxing.
i had read the line at jj's and i was expecting a tense story for some reason... but now i feel like a margarita.

yournamehere said...

Brooke, I love a Margarita made with Grand Marnier. Wish I could afford one. I did have a few $1.75 locals casino specials last night. They were surprisingly good.
I'm also at this time going to use your very popular blog to announce that I have finished my story as well. Please forgive me for being such a whore. You know I love ya.

Brookelina said...

You guys rock. Thanks for all the kudos. Does my heart good. It's so nice to write grown-up stuff as opposed to spelling words and classroom rules!

Brookelina said...

Oh and Todd, my very popular blog? Look who's talking!

Brookelina said...

Fuck you spammers.

Brookelina said...

Sorry guys, I've succumbed to the word verification. 5 spams in ten minutes. Bastards.

However, I started making fun phrases out of the letters on Nick's blog - so feel free to have at it!

arsrnoy
arses run over you

Neil said...

Brooke, I'm so glad you've moved out of your "blue period" in your storytelling. Your description of the beach was so real for me, I actually took off my shirt, put a towel on top of my carpet, and stretched out under my halogen lamp.

Just curious -- would you not date a guy with back hair or were you just using that statement as a literary device in the story? What about hair in the ears, nose, and bellybutton -- or on the tush or soles of the feet? Just curious.

Spinning Girl said...

Brava!

JJ said...

Brooke, very nice image. I can smell the ocean and hear the seagulls. Fabio has agreed to play the boyfriend.

Neil, hair on the bottom of the foot makes it a paw.

The real me said...

Margs with Heradurra Reposado are the most amazing on earth!!
Loved your simple story, Brooke.

Ruben said...

This one spanked me 9Impressed me).

Anonymous said...

Perfect timing, Brooke
I'm getting ready for my beach vacation.
We'll see how many differences with your picture I could find.
So far 3:
-no girl[friend] going there with me
- no lover. Yet.
- I have doubts barmen in Algarve know how to prep Golden Ritas...

Tatyana

Melliferous Pants said...

Perfect indeed!

Amberjane said...

Ohh... I felt sand on my feet, and saw all the little granules glinting in the sun... Niiiiccce!

The Awful Writer said...

I loved that last paragraph. I felt like I was right there at the beach.

Brookelina said...

Thanks guys! May your days be filled with sand between your toes and margaritas in your hands.

Brian said...

"Fuck You Spammers" I couldn't agree more...Is there nothing sacred to those people?