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Subject: Title story: "Submission" Author: Anonymous 99448736
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Date: Tue, 20 Feb 2007 04:21:51 +0000
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Submission
It was hot. Too hot to think, much less do anything. The air conditioner man had
said that he would fix it, but the thermostat still said 100 and Carrie's blouse
still stuck to her chest. The only thing that came out of it was hot, stifling
air. She had given up on it when she had gotten home from work and argued with
the man who had come out to fix it.
"I remember working on this unit, oh, about two months ago," he had said. His
face was thick, wrinkled and red in the sunlight. Even though it was hazy with
the Southern Californian smog, the sun seemed extremely bright.
"So, you can fix it?"
The silk blouse she had worn to work was beginning to get hot.
"Well, I got to get a compressor. It ain't gonna do much without a compressor."
His voice was irritatingly high, despite his grizzled turkey-neck.
"It isn't doing much now. Can you do anything to fix it?"
Her pantyhose weren't helping any, either.
"Not without no compressor, I can't." "Bye, then." "I'll see if I can't get one
in the mornin'"
With those words, he had left. A lot of help that will do me, she thought. 108
outside, in the shade. And it's going to stay that way until at least eight.
Shit. She opened up the fridge to get some water. Feeling the coolness, she
leaned her body into it. It felt so good. The cool air flowed into her blouse
like ice fingers. The sweat between her breasts felt very, very cold. She opened
up the freezer side and grabbed some ice, throwing it into a thick tumbler that
had the emblem of ATT on it. She reached up and opened the cabinets above the
fridge, taking out a fifth of whiskey. She pored a goodly amount over the ice.
That should take off some of the bite, she thought. She took a drink from the
cold, dark brown liquid. The thick taste and pungent smell brought back
memories. She remembered when she had first had whiskey, when she was fourteen.
"C'Mon, try it!"
One of her girlfriends, Trishia, had swiped it from her dad. They had taken it
out into the greenbelt/undeveloped area behind the suburban homes, by the creek,
hoping to escape the heat and parents. She could smell the roadkill skunk and
the sweet scent of the whiskey, mixed in with the honeysuckle and the creek mud.
"Won't your dad notice?"
The mud squashed between her toes, and her shorts itched from the rocks she sat
on at the bank.
"No, he's an alki. All he ever does is drink. He'll just think he drank
it himself."
Trishia's face was red. She had already taken a few swigs from it, and was kind
of tipsy. Carrie climbed up into one of the low live-oak trees. She hadn't had
anything other than wine to drink. She stuck her leg down from the dangling
branch into the water.
"So you want me to be an alki too?" Trishia made a disgusting noise with
her mouth.
"You won't be an alki. I'm not an alki. I drink." "No you don't. This is the
first time you had anything to drink." "No it isn't. Your just a wimp. That's
why you wouldn't go out with Gene. Cause your a wimp." "Gene's a nerd." "He may
be a nerd, but he knows what he's doing."
Trishia took another swig from the mouth of the bottle, this time dribbling some
of it onto her sundress. It made a brownish stain on her light tan dress.
Trishia was all ways wearing that dress. She was proud of it because it showed
her cleavage, or what cleavage she had. Carrie was pondering what Gene "knew".
Trishia had gone out with Gene once, and Carrie had never asked her about it.
"What does does Gene know?" Trishia was trying to rub the stain out. She got
some water from the creek and put it on it, and then rubbed it in. It didn't
really do anything but cause one of her teats to fall out of her dress.
"Oops..." Carrie giggled, and Trishia did too. It wasn't the first time she had
fallen out of that dress.
"What did you say?" "Ummm, what does Gene know?" "Here."
She gave Carrie the bottle. At first Carrie thought about tossing it, but she
didn't. Trishia's dad might need it back.
"Take a drink and I'll tell you." "I'm not gonna drink this." "Fine." Trishia
sat down hard on the bank and began to throw rocks into the water. There weren't
that many rocks, and Trishia was hoping that Carrie's famous curiosity would get
the best of her.
"How much?" "Just a swallow..." Trishia turned around. She looked straight into
Carries blue eyes. Carrie unscrewed the lid and brought the bottle to her mouth.
Her face puckered up as she took a sip from the bottle. "A swallow..." Carrie
paused, and then leaned the bottle back. A single bubble rose to the bottom of
the bottle.Carrie put the bottle down and screwed the cap back on.
"A swallow usually involves swallowing."
Carried swallowed the whiskey, then gasped for air. She promptly fell out of
the tree and into the creek. The water splashed up into the air, muddying the
bank further. "Carrie!" Carrie climbed out of the water and tossed the bottle
into the sand.
"Hey, Carrie!" Carrie stood three inches taller that Trishia.
"It ...
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