Writing exercise: Something stupid

[StillStunned]

The wrong word at the wrong time. Or the wrong word at the right time. A little present. A harmless flirt. A slip of the tongue. Or a slip of the finger going somewhere it shouldn't. An innocent remark that makes you laugh like crazy. Your partner's hobby that you just don't understand. A misunderstanding with huge consequences. A cruel comment that you still regret years later. A modern fad that leaves you cold.

This is about "something stupid" in the broadest sense. Good or bad or funny or bitter. Whatever you want.

The usual rules apply: don't include anything that wouldn't make it through Lit's normal publishing rules, and try to stick to about 300-500 words. And of course have fun!

 

[StillStunned]

Calli and I had been going out for a couple of months, and things were still good. They soured later, of course, and it all ended messily. But for a time we enjoyed each other’s company, and each other’s body.

We even enjoyed each other’s friends. Again, it was before things soured and the people around us began to pick sides and add fuel to the fire.

So there we were, having dinner at mine with a friend of hers, Diane. Very friendly, very outgoing, very well stacked. But she tended to wear thick sweaters and sturdy denims. Her boobs were more of a pain to her, Calli reported, than a weapon in the war of the sexes.

She was good company, though, and as the evening wore on and the wine flowed she became a bit flirty. Not with me, specifically, and not with Calli either. Just generally suggestive, with a twinkle in her eye, and Calli responded in kind.

It was when I went to the kitchen at the rear of my flat to get a new bottle that I saw the weather. “You’ll be soaked,” I said when I returned. “Have you seen that downpour?”

Diane rose and crossed to the window, Calli a step behind. Peering out through the curtains they saw what I’d seen. A deluge that rendered the night black apart from small pools of light under the lampposts.

“You won’t even make it to the bus stop,” Calli said softly, putting a hand on Diane’s shoulder. “We can lend you a brolly, but I’m not sure it would help much.”

“With that wind?” I interjected. “It would be ripped apart!”

Diane shook her head. “It’s just rain. I’ll survive.” Her look spoke volumes though. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

“Or you could just stay here,” Calli suggested.

“I’m not sleeping on that sofa!” Diane retorted. Then that twinkle came to her eye again. “I’ll share with the two of you, though.”

Silence. We looked at each other. More silence. We all understood what she was implying.

I glanced at Calli. Saw the interest in her eyes. The same responsiveness to Diane’s flirting. Knew that she was just tipsy enough to be curious about experimenting.

But the silence dragged on. Probably not as long as it felt in my mind, but to me it became oppressive. Someone had to say something.

I heard the words come out of my mouth, and I was helpless to stop them. “I don’t think my bed is big enough for three.”

It was a mood killer. Twenty minutes later Diane waved goodbye and turned into the driving rain to catch her bus.

 

[Erozetta]

Content warning: blood, suicide.


One mistake was all it took. A bad day, a bad reaction colliding at the junction of a mental health crisis that went unspoken because she couldn’t speak up. He thought she was condescending whenever she tried to show she needed help. He just couldn’t see it.

Now? He had no choice but to see it.

She lay in the tub, staring up at the ceiling. Her eyes looked cold, tears drying on her cheeks, leaving salty stains as the water evaporated. She lay perfectly still. His fingertips brushed across her lips, soft and still slightly warm. He sat on the side of the tub and reached out, pulling the bobby pins from her hair, letting her curls fall over her shoulders and into the water.

Slowly, gently.

She didn't move, didn't look at him. Her chest lay still beneath the water. Her head rested on the back of the tub, unblinking and staring at the ceiling.

He ignored the water. It unnerved him. Doesn't want to see it. Can't acknowledge it. He closed her eyes and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

He'd lost her so many years before this. He wondered if he could change things for her. Perhaps give her a second chance at life, in a loving home, without the grief and abuse she'd suffered. Fix his own mistakes with her. He wondered if he could save her, even now.

Then he reached into the water and lifted her hands, nicking himself on the knife she still clutched, and pulled it from her grip before placing her hands on each side of the tub.

He looked at the wound on her left arm, just a quick glance. He still didn't want to see it. Dark as the water was, he knew she'd cut deeply. It would have been fatal no matter how long it took him to get into the room. He undressed and lifted her forward, climbing into the water behind her. Her arms fell back into the water as he pulled her tightly against him. The knife is clenched tightly in his fist. He called for help already, told them the door was unlocked and they could just come in. Told them he'd hurt her, badly. And he had, just not by his own hand.

He wrapped his arm around her chest, holding her tightly against him. He could feel the last bits of warmth leaving her. The water had gone cold long ago. He covered her up and closed his eyes as the sound of sirens approached. He kissed the top of her head and held tightly to the knife.

A promise long ago that no one would know if she succumbed to her thoughts. A sacrifice so her secrets would remain her own, the one thing she ever actually asked him for. The one thing he never wanted to give her.

 

[yowser]

"Don't you guys always name your cocks anyway?" asked Arlene, wide-eyed and smiling. "Didn't you call yours John?"

She imitated Lenny's high school voice, "'Hey, I'm gonna get John up you tonight one way or another!' you used to say. Or 'How's about a goodnight kiss to the ol' Johnboy?' while you waved your penis in my face after a good fuck."

Lenny grinned broadly. "Yep, 'John' it was. You remembered!"

Arlene turned to me. "Alright, what's your cock's name?"

"Shemp," I said, face reddening, while Lenny doubled over laughing.

"Don't ask, it's a long story."

"Shemp?" Arlene asked incredulously. "Like one of the Three Stooges?"

"Look, I answered you," I said with some heat, "I shouldn't be penalized for telling the truth."

"Okay, okay," Arlene laughed while holding up a hand.

"Shemp it is. John vs. Shemp. Gotta be a winner in there somewhere," she said, gazing at our pouches.

"Better be," she said under her breath.

 

[ClintonBrooks]

"I forgive you."

The second best set of three word phrases one can say to another. Important, critical even, to the success of a relationship. I knew this meeting was coming, had the forethought to plan my words rather than wing it and hope for the best. That was my usual course of action, and it had failed me many times in my young life.

Twenty-six years old...you'd think I knew better. But no, I was still a neophyte when it came to relationships. Love had never been among them. Crushes sure...but love? No.

A crush was why we were here now. Sandy was smart, fun, and beautiful. A four-year crush blocked by her marriage to some asshole. I waited for my time to shine for the inevitable day when she chucked that asshole and flew free. And Chris, my good friend who snaked me. Betrayed me, or so I thought. Sandy and I had a secret way to communicate. Our own pigeon flapping back and forth between us. It was intimate and special. However, only for me when I found out she had shared our pigeon with Chris. So, in a way, she betrayed me to too.

The day came when Sandy announced the chucking of the previously mentioned asshole. My hope rose, then was dashed with her next sentence. She and Chris were a thing.

Fuck. It felt like two knives were stuck in my back. What I didn't recognize at the time is that while yes, they were there, I was the one who struck deep.

And now, here the three of us, a week later in some secret location. No witnesses. By the looks in their eyes, I knew what was coming. Contrite, apologetic without saying a word to me. So, I beat them to the punch.

"I forgive you."

I realized they were the wrong words as the crossed my lips. I should have used the most popular three word phrase instead. I should have reassured my friends that I would survive, they would survive and just as important...we would survive together. There was no betrayal after all...just love. And a misplaced crush. One that would never have found a home.

Unfortunately, even though I was twenty-six, I wasn't man enough to fix my mistake. Life became awkward between us.

And now, three decades later, I wonder how they are doing. What their lives are like as I genuinely hope for their success. Even while I am still haunted by my failure to say what I really felt.

"I love you."

 

[MrPixel]

[Edited for additional content.]

Lunch was pretty good, as usual. Anne and I eat out a lot; this diner in the next town has a good burger and the best spaghetti and meatballs outside of a trattoria. Dog is happy to sit in the car outside the window and watch us eat. Can't say the same for other places we frequent, he's just calm as he can be at this one.

The traffic light at the road out of the restaurant is a royal pain-in-the-butt as it always is. Hit it wrong, and you get to sit there for three minutes for its prioritizing the main highway. Once on the big road, there's the half-dozen other lights obstructing traffic, and then the chaos around Walmart. Not my favorite stretch of road, and let's not forget the a-holes who work hard at cutting you off at the lane squeeze.

It can be frustrating in a draining way.

We haven't even made it to the segment adjacent to the farms yet, and this big brute of a tank truck cuts things short entering from a side road. Hard on the brakes, I sort of understand. A break in the traffic is sometimes hard to come by here especially if you're big and slow to accelerate. Okay, I slowed down and will be fine when you get up to highway speed.

But you don't. 40 miles per hour. And traffic is heavy in both directions on the two-lane. I hope to find enough of a gap in oncoming traffic to pass, but this truck is wide and really tricky to see around without swerving into the opposite lane.

I keep testing, looking for a gap. Finally. A gap, but a line of traffic behind the lead vehicle. I can make it if I don't fool around. Pull out and am committed to the pass.

Holy fucking shit! BMW pulls out from the opposing string and is rocketing at us! I can't brake and fall back, the car behind us has closed the gap behind the truck.

The BMW starts to dive to the shoulder, but we're just ahead of the truck now and I can swerve in to cut him off.

Brush with death averted. No question, the combined speeds in the head-on would have been around 150 miles per hour. My heart is racing. Anne did not scream, thank goodness, as one more unexpected sensory input would have cost the milliseconds that saved us.

I back off to highway speed, and coast down to the stop at the tee intersection with the highway home.

"That was incredibly stupid. You almost killed us, Curtis."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't have guessed that other car was going to be coming at us so fast."

"Makes no difference. It was a bad decision to pull out like you did on this stretch of road. You make stupid moves like this, and I get to go home and take a Valium. I don't trust your driving any more."

"Then we're stuck, Anne. You can't drive. The DMV saw to that after that last ticket."

"I can't drive, and apparently you can't, either. And we have no bus, taxi, or even Uber where we live. What are we going to do?"

"Grit our teeth and carry on best we can."

"Gonna have to think hard on that one, Curt. Scott's offer is looking better every day. That was something else you did that was monumentally stupid.

"What's that?"

"Letting me go to Vegas with him alone. You were all turned on by the fantasy. You were an idiot. We had a great time together. Yes. In that way."

"We can't afford to split."

"Better than becoming highway hamburger. One more and that's it."

I shut up and drive.

 

[anthrodisiac]

"Son, I'm sorry to tell you this, but your mom insisted we drive this dinkie ol' thing out to the cabin this weekend. Guess she'll have to sit on your lap again. Sorry about that, I can't imagine how much you must hate it. Darnedest thing that she keeps insisting on this tiny bucket for our road trips, but women, eh, what can you do?"

 

[BenjaminCarlisle]

Content warning: Suicide


Goodnight.

If I had know it was the last time I would have never said it. I would have forced her to stay on the phone, even for one more moment. Just one more second. Anything more.

My stomach dropped as I woke the next morning. The message had been typed out in a hurry, full of typos and run-on sentences. She was staying, the guilt too much, the fear having gripped her too tightly in the middle of the night.

I tried to type out a response. Nothing would go through. Message failed to send. Over and over again those red letters glared at me across the screen.

Goodbye.

It was the last word of her message. Her last word to me. It was funny, I had written the very same thing months before and had never sent it. I mouthed it over and over again as I pulled back the hammer.

Goodbye.

 

[Stanfield2025]

I said, "Did you expect me?"

She shrugged. "I expected to see someone climb," she said. Somehow I didn't feel awful about that. Inna hadn't come for me. That was perfectly fine.

She continued to speak. "I didn't expect your new girlfriend to be the one climbing, though."

Inna's brown eyes focused on Savannah, who geared up at the foot of the climbing wall. She looked so stunning, even from far away. I couldn't wait to cheer for her. Well, I'd do it if the crowd did. No way was I cheering out loud by myself.

"How are you and Michael?" I asked. "Is he... a good boyfriend?"

She nodded. This woman had kissed me so many times yet the feel of her mouth on mine seemed to come from a different life. And I couldn't say I missed that feeling.

"How are you and... her?" she asked.

"What do you think?" I asked back.

"I think she's a dangerous, paranoid, traumatized woman," Inna said. "Miguel, what happens when she decides not to play nice with you anymore? What happens to you then?"

"She'd never hurt me," I said, looking Inna right in the eye.

 

[SmilingLez]

Mary made fun of her online.
 Posted screenshots.
Got her friends to laugh.
 Felt powerful for five minutes.

She stopped coming to school.
The principal called Mary's parents.
Now Mary is in court.
Turns out words kill people.