-
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
IMPOSSIBLE GIRL - 27
-
-
-
-
It was a hike back to the car. She had parked behind the netball clubhouse on the other side, away from the line of cars and suburban houses edging the skate park.
‘Why’d you park so far away?’
‘Do you smoke bongs openly on the street?’ IGirl's heart rate was going to explode. Her hunger had reached fever pitch. She was so close.
‘Oh.. yeah…’ Ben seemed to accept her rationale and fell into step beside her.
Hey I’ve broken into that clubhouse before.’
‘Really?’ Bless his boasting soul she thought.
IGirl had scoped the whole area and chosen that spot because it was deserted and the car was shielded from the street. As long as no-one else got the same idea it was completely private. But getting inside the clubhouse would be even better, she wouldn’t have to tarnish the car with this ugly memory.
‘There’s no burglar alarm?’ she asked.
‘Nah,’ he laughed ‘nothing worth stealing.’
‘You’re really cool Ben. Hey, do you reckon we can get in tonight? Be really private,’ IGirl moved closer and ran her arm around his back as she said it.
‘Too Easy… be f#&*ing dark in there though.’ Cocky little show off, was playing right into her hands.
‘I might have a torch or something in the car.. You’re really sexy you know?’
‘Mmmm you too..’ he grabbed her around the waist and leaned in to kiss her roughly. She could feel the blood pulsing through the arteries in his neck. It sent tingles up her spine and she shuddered. Ben mistook her reaction for rapture, he kissed her harder.
Sh*t, maybe she was coming on too strong. IGirl needed to slow things down until she could get the pill into him.
‘You’re going to love being what I’m on, Ben,’ she whispered, pulling her mouth away from his, ‘let’s keep going.’
They reached the clubhouse and Ben shoved an old bin against the back wall to get at an ajar window. He hauled himself up to the ledge.
‘I’m just going to get a torch out of the car,’ IGirl said.
She got the camping torch out of the back and checked the thimble was easily accessible in the front pocket of her bag. The Blue Fairy was in there as well. IGirl pulled it out and felt along the ridge at the centre of the pill, distinctly different to the panadeine she intended to take.
‘Where are you Bel?’ he was inside the clubhouse.
‘Coming,’ she replied, turning on the torch and shining it into the dark .
‘Why’d you park so far away?’
‘Do you smoke bongs openly on the street?’ IGirl's heart rate was going to explode. Her hunger had reached fever pitch. She was so close.
‘Oh.. yeah…’ Ben seemed to accept her rationale and fell into step beside her.
Hey I’ve broken into that clubhouse before.’
‘Really?’ Bless his boasting soul she thought.
IGirl had scoped the whole area and chosen that spot because it was deserted and the car was shielded from the street. As long as no-one else got the same idea it was completely private. But getting inside the clubhouse would be even better, she wouldn’t have to tarnish the car with this ugly memory.
‘There’s no burglar alarm?’ she asked.
‘Nah,’ he laughed ‘nothing worth stealing.’
‘You’re really cool Ben. Hey, do you reckon we can get in tonight? Be really private,’ IGirl moved closer and ran her arm around his back as she said it.
‘Too Easy… be f#&*ing dark in there though.’ Cocky little show off, was playing right into her hands.
‘I might have a torch or something in the car.. You’re really sexy you know?’
‘Mmmm you too..’ he grabbed her around the waist and leaned in to kiss her roughly. She could feel the blood pulsing through the arteries in his neck. It sent tingles up her spine and she shuddered. Ben mistook her reaction for rapture, he kissed her harder.
Sh*t, maybe she was coming on too strong. IGirl needed to slow things down until she could get the pill into him.
‘You’re going to love being what I’m on, Ben,’ she whispered, pulling her mouth away from his, ‘let’s keep going.’
They reached the clubhouse and Ben shoved an old bin against the back wall to get at an ajar window. He hauled himself up to the ledge.
‘I’m just going to get a torch out of the car,’ IGirl said.
She got the camping torch out of the back and checked the thimble was easily accessible in the front pocket of her bag. The Blue Fairy was in there as well. IGirl pulled it out and felt along the ridge at the centre of the pill, distinctly different to the panadeine she intended to take.
‘Where are you Bel?’ he was inside the clubhouse.
‘Coming,’ she replied, turning on the torch and shining it into the dark .
-
-
-
-
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
IMPOSSIBLE GIRL - 26
- 
- 
-
-
-
IGirl pulled the camera out of her bag and let her skirt ride a bit higher on her thigh as she stalked toward the half pipe.
They were physically interchangeable from a distance, four scruffy, lanky teenage boys. But she didn’t need to scope them for long before she identified her target. He was bolder and more reckless than the others. And pushy, taking the pipe out of turn. Enough ego to squash his better judgment.
‘Mind if I take a few shots?’
She directed the question specifically at him and started clicking random shots without waiting for a response.
He grunted, kicked off the edge, down the concrete up the other side and into the air.
He did it again this time rotating twice in the air. Satisfied, even smug, he pulled off and careened over to her.
‘You a photographer?’ He was taking the bait quickly.
‘Artist/photographer, I like movement.’
‘Right..yeah..cool.’ He gave her a quick smile before putting his board down and dropping in on one of his mates.
They were self conscious with her there. It was now more about showing off than about pleasure and they seemed very competitive. IGirl wondered whether they were actually friends.
All the pieces were in play but IGirl needed to make the next move.
‘Hey, what’s your name?’ she asked, moving closer to where he came off the pipe.
‘Ben. Get any good shots?’
F*#%, she could almost taste him, lush beating veins beneath sweaty skin.
‘Why don't I show you?’ she said, watching the grin on his face spread.
‘Is that all you want to show me?’ He was a cocky little b*st%rd.
IGirl could feel her teeth grind, the saliva in her throat and hives forming under her arms.
‘I like taking photos of you Ben, you look really hot on that board.’
‘You want a go on it?’ he asked, coming closer and offering her the board.
‘I’m not really dressed for it,’ she smiled and moved her hips.
‘Guess not,’ he replied, eyes lingering a bit longer on the package.
The three other boys were moving off. ‘Later’ he nodded as they walked away in a group, snide comments and leers at ‘Ben’s score’.
What sort of fantasy land did these boys live in, IGirl wondered? But everything was playing out.
‘To be honest, I’m a bit wasted,’ she said as he stood beside her.
‘Yeah.. me too.. had a chooff just before you rocked up.’
‘Pot? I’m a different kind of wasted,’ she said, offering up the final hook.
‘Really.. cool.’
‘I’ve got more if you’re keen,’ she said.
Christ, IGirl thought, I’m kitted out in an unfinished designer mini dress stalking and pushing drugs on teenagers in a park. But at this point her need far outweighed any conscience.
‘F#$% yeah.. hey, what’s your name?’
‘Belinda,’ she replied, ‘call me Bel.’
-
- 
-
IGirl pulled the camera out of her bag and let her skirt ride a bit higher on her thigh as she stalked toward the half pipe.
They were physically interchangeable from a distance, four scruffy, lanky teenage boys. But she didn’t need to scope them for long before she identified her target. He was bolder and more reckless than the others. And pushy, taking the pipe out of turn. Enough ego to squash his better judgment.
‘Mind if I take a few shots?’
She directed the question specifically at him and started clicking random shots without waiting for a response.
He grunted, kicked off the edge, down the concrete up the other side and into the air.
He did it again this time rotating twice in the air. Satisfied, even smug, he pulled off and careened over to her.
‘You a photographer?’ He was taking the bait quickly.
‘Artist/photographer, I like movement.’
‘Right..yeah..cool.’ He gave her a quick smile before putting his board down and dropping in on one of his mates.
They were self conscious with her there. It was now more about showing off than about pleasure and they seemed very competitive. IGirl wondered whether they were actually friends.
All the pieces were in play but IGirl needed to make the next move.
‘Hey, what’s your name?’ she asked, moving closer to where he came off the pipe.
‘Ben. Get any good shots?’
F*#%, she could almost taste him, lush beating veins beneath sweaty skin.
‘Why don't I show you?’ she said, watching the grin on his face spread.
‘Is that all you want to show me?’ He was a cocky little b*st%rd.
IGirl could feel her teeth grind, the saliva in her throat and hives forming under her arms.
‘I like taking photos of you Ben, you look really hot on that board.’
‘You want a go on it?’ he asked, coming closer and offering her the board.
‘I’m not really dressed for it,’ she smiled and moved her hips.
‘Guess not,’ he replied, eyes lingering a bit longer on the package.
The three other boys were moving off. ‘Later’ he nodded as they walked away in a group, snide comments and leers at ‘Ben’s score’.
What sort of fantasy land did these boys live in, IGirl wondered? But everything was playing out.
‘To be honest, I’m a bit wasted,’ she said as he stood beside her.
‘Yeah.. me too.. had a chooff just before you rocked up.’
‘Pot? I’m a different kind of wasted,’ she said, offering up the final hook.
‘Really.. cool.’
‘I’ve got more if you’re keen,’ she said.
Christ, IGirl thought, I’m kitted out in an unfinished designer mini dress stalking and pushing drugs on teenagers in a park. But at this point her need far outweighed any conscience.
‘F#$% yeah.. hey, what’s your name?’
‘Belinda,’ she replied, ‘call me Bel.’
-
- 
-
- 
-
Thursday, June 18, 2009
IMPOSSIBLE GIRL - 25
-
-
-
-
TXT RB: Sorry batt low be a while yet still Port Macquarie
TXT IG: Port Macquarie? Shouldn’t you have been there hours ago? What the?
TXT RB: Sorry babe band needed a break lawn bowls. Be home to tuck you in miss u xx
‘F%@#, F$#@, F$#@, F*%&, F$@!.. C*&%.’
As much as she wanted to scream obscenities at him there was no point in phoning. He was drunk. Thats why he was texting and hiding behind the low battery excuse. She would probably get a message later saying they were staying. The band would have drawn out the local talent. He’d have a teenage hopeful in her favourite black skinny jeans and sportsgirl top hanging all over him… feeding his vanity.
‘His vanity,’ IGirl thought ‘is what got us into this mess in the first place.’
She couldn’t dwell on it though. Even if the band left straight away it would be hours before he got back. It was dark and she needed to feed…. Now.
She pulled the bone knots out of her hair. Without the bones the public face of IGirl was anonymous and anonymity was what she needed. The new peep dress was hanging over the couch so she threw it on. It was unfinished, rough, but it hugged in all of the right places. She put on one of Rowan's hats, placed her aviators on her face and managed to squeeze into her KittyC boots.
She ran her tongue over her teeth and spontaneously salivated.
‘F%$@, f$#!... Calm yourself...’
IGirl needed a plan. It wasn’t the first time she had been in this situation but it felt the most desperate. Why had she left it so long? Bar seduction was out, at this time of night people would be sticking to groups and not drunk enough to be lead astray.
'F*&%#!$$%##K.. why would I wait for him... stupid stupid stupid.’
She knew of a skate park fifteen minutes drive away. She had seen kids there before, it would just be the older ones now, the one’s who didn’t need to go home to Mummy for dinner.
‘Christ.. could she?’
At this point she couldn't see any options. She shoved what she needed into her calf skin bag and grabbed her camera.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
TXT RB: Sorry batt low be a while yet still Port Macquarie
TXT IG: Port Macquarie? Shouldn’t you have been there hours ago? What the?
TXT RB: Sorry babe band needed a break lawn bowls. Be home to tuck you in miss u xx
‘F%@#, F$#@, F$#@, F*%&, F$@!.. C*&%.’
As much as she wanted to scream obscenities at him there was no point in phoning. He was drunk. Thats why he was texting and hiding behind the low battery excuse. She would probably get a message later saying they were staying. The band would have drawn out the local talent. He’d have a teenage hopeful in her favourite black skinny jeans and sportsgirl top hanging all over him… feeding his vanity.
‘His vanity,’ IGirl thought ‘is what got us into this mess in the first place.’
She couldn’t dwell on it though. Even if the band left straight away it would be hours before he got back. It was dark and she needed to feed…. Now.
She pulled the bone knots out of her hair. Without the bones the public face of IGirl was anonymous and anonymity was what she needed. The new peep dress was hanging over the couch so she threw it on. It was unfinished, rough, but it hugged in all of the right places. She put on one of Rowan's hats, placed her aviators on her face and managed to squeeze into her KittyC boots.
She ran her tongue over her teeth and spontaneously salivated.
‘F%$@, f$#!... Calm yourself...’
IGirl needed a plan. It wasn’t the first time she had been in this situation but it felt the most desperate. Why had she left it so long? Bar seduction was out, at this time of night people would be sticking to groups and not drunk enough to be lead astray.
'F*&%#!$$%##K.. why would I wait for him... stupid stupid stupid.’
She knew of a skate park fifteen minutes drive away. She had seen kids there before, it would just be the older ones now, the one’s who didn’t need to go home to Mummy for dinner.
‘Christ.. could she?’
At this point she couldn't see any options. She shoved what she needed into her calf skin bag and grabbed her camera.
-
-
-
-
Friday, June 12, 2009
Random Bytes - 5
-
Wonderkind 3
-
- 
-
Wonderkind 3 presents the angel’s final evolution. It turns to the right and appears ready to depart from its plinth. It seems to be breaking from the chrysalis of its own clothing and adornment. It forces off its shawl of fur and even its blonde bob appears to have been a wig. We see a fleshy back and bra emerge as a new truth. Its wings are in chaos, almost tearing away from the figure and combining with the black bars of the sky. This time the angel neither ignores nor presents to us but is seemingly becoming us. Its final gesture remains as ambiguous and ineffable as its first.
-
Wonderkind 3
-
- 
-
Wonderkind 3 presents the angel’s final evolution. It turns to the right and appears ready to depart from its plinth. It seems to be breaking from the chrysalis of its own clothing and adornment. It forces off its shawl of fur and even its blonde bob appears to have been a wig. We see a fleshy back and bra emerge as a new truth. Its wings are in chaos, almost tearing away from the figure and combining with the black bars of the sky. This time the angel neither ignores nor presents to us but is seemingly becoming us. Its final gesture remains as ambiguous and ineffable as its first.
-
Sunday, June 7, 2009
IMPOSSIBLE GIRL - 24
-
-
-
- 
-
-
-
- 
-
It was both daunting and exciting starting a new collection. Pure expectation mingled with queasy gut fear. Anything could happen, a masterpiece or a complete fizzer. Fear and risk aside IGirl was in love with that moment, when the spark of an idea set off a fireworks of creativity in her brain. When nothing but ideas consumed her and there was no such thing as economic compromise or rationalisation.
She wanted skin. In patches, geometric shapes, peekaboo holes, a framed piece of silky sweetness beneath the ruffle of silk. Ideas had been flooding through all week. She had scribbled and coloured multiple pages and was in the process of cutting and testing sample fabrics. There was no fear now, this was her work at its best. It’s sexy fullest.
IGirl had to admit the band going on tour had its pros. She missed Rowan.. and worried about what he was doing.. but there was nothing like being alone to drive you creatively.
The problem now was her hunger. She had burned energy like an expensive sports car consumes fuel and it had been almost two weeks since she fed. She couldn’t ignore it now, her throat itched constantly. Worse, the dry spots that had started appearing on her skin a few days earlier were turning into hives. The longer she peered into the mirror the worse they seemed to get. It was time to feed. If she delayed much longer she’d be blistered and sore and unable to leave the house without a thick covering of make up.
Where was Rowan? He promised he’d be back today. There was still some light in the sky but it would be gone soon. Hard but not impossible to feed this early in the night. Once you’d given in to the hunger it was hard to wait, to try to resist it. It gnawed away at her, tested her nerves like a pack a day smoker desperately fighting the queue to get off an airplane.
She didn’t want to be a slave to it, there was simply no choice. Sometimes she wished it could be like fiction. That she was undead and following a standard set of rules repenned across the ages by a thousand different authors. No such luck. They were as alive as anyone else, what they had was more like a disease. A weirdly fucked up disease that came with some benefits but no cure.
If Rowan didn’t turn up soon she’d have to go out alone.
She wanted skin. In patches, geometric shapes, peekaboo holes, a framed piece of silky sweetness beneath the ruffle of silk. Ideas had been flooding through all week. She had scribbled and coloured multiple pages and was in the process of cutting and testing sample fabrics. There was no fear now, this was her work at its best. It’s sexy fullest.
IGirl had to admit the band going on tour had its pros. She missed Rowan.. and worried about what he was doing.. but there was nothing like being alone to drive you creatively.
The problem now was her hunger. She had burned energy like an expensive sports car consumes fuel and it had been almost two weeks since she fed. She couldn’t ignore it now, her throat itched constantly. Worse, the dry spots that had started appearing on her skin a few days earlier were turning into hives. The longer she peered into the mirror the worse they seemed to get. It was time to feed. If she delayed much longer she’d be blistered and sore and unable to leave the house without a thick covering of make up.
Where was Rowan? He promised he’d be back today. There was still some light in the sky but it would be gone soon. Hard but not impossible to feed this early in the night. Once you’d given in to the hunger it was hard to wait, to try to resist it. It gnawed away at her, tested her nerves like a pack a day smoker desperately fighting the queue to get off an airplane.
She didn’t want to be a slave to it, there was simply no choice. Sometimes she wished it could be like fiction. That she was undead and following a standard set of rules repenned across the ages by a thousand different authors. No such luck. They were as alive as anyone else, what they had was more like a disease. A weirdly fucked up disease that came with some benefits but no cure.
If Rowan didn’t turn up soon she’d have to go out alone.
-
-
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)