Spirit Intoxicating Babe
in the Woods
by Monique Saier
startles, sitting half-asleep on the porch with his buddy, Milton, in the weak
winter sun, as Serita pulls up with her SUV.
peers over to them, her cheeks flushed. The heater in the car had been on full
blast, the entire way home. Stupid rain had caught her when she left the mall,
soaked her arms and legs.
scrambles out of his chair.
there she is!”
usual, her cue to go into shut-off mode. He’s been throwing his weight around the
house since Irvin, his cousin, left her. Ran off with that social media editor
floozy at the local sports bar.
Serita opens her door and swings her curvy legs out of the scorching cockpit,
wearing tight jeans and thigh-highs.
Lady Godiva!” he calls out, scowling, his eyes hooked on her high heels
crushing the immaculate snow. He elbows Milton, watches her dab the sweat from
her forehead and cleavage. “She’d better have some chicken wings. I’m
gets a hard look. Come hell or high water; she had to return with that
flat-screen, especially if it was only going to be the three of them for
Stuffing the hankie into her bra, she jumps
out of the SUV, paces towards Eddie.
is it working now?”
Rome built in a day?”
I wash now?”
is the virtue. Got somethin’ to eat?”
you look at it, yet?”
yet,” Milton chips in, with Eddie giving him a dirty look.
“Bravo, guys, 2 PM already!”
stretches out his legs; Milton looks down to the ground.
sugar levels, ya know.”
Low sugar levels? Both of ya? Getting that flat-screen was a miracle, ya know!”
folds his arms, pretends to be distracted by the neighbor’s car pulling in
across the street.
paces back to the SUV, with their eyes glued to her legs. From the passenger
seat, she grabs a tub of KFC, slams it down in front of them.
“Bon appetit,” she grunts, before snatching her
opens the KFC tub, inhales the smell of freshly fried chicken wings.
nice and hot. Now, for a couple of Budweisers.” He pushes his luck, while she
slams the boot hard and drowns out his voice.
with her shopping bags slung around her arms, she heads for the kitchen, fed up
heart suddenly stops, and she lunges back, like a cornered cat.
her estranged neighbor, is suddenly standing in front of her.
Dan greets her, wearing an unbuttoned shirt, his six-pack peering through a
sweaty T-shirt underneath.
. . . yourself,” she says, battling to look straight at him. Thanks to Jax,
Irvin’s Jack Russell. The little troublemaker had dug up Dan’s beloved dead cat,
straight after they moved in here.
this?” Eddie demands, his mouth full.
you might need a hand with that.” Dan grins at her.
on his chicken wing, Eddie gets up.
you the guy with the dead dug-up cat?”
off, Eddie,” Serita says.
gets up, wiping his hands on his pants, and pulls Eddie away.
machine is in, now, Dude.” He burps lightly.
right, already! Just keep your grubby paws to yourself.” Eddie scowls, sizing
Dan up, all the way to the laundry.
As Serita watches Dan unloading the
flat-screen, she regains hope that they can bury the hatchet, after all. The
coldness between them is truly regrettable.
all, he appears to be really nice. If the spirit of Christmas
was waving its magic wand around her, for a change? Could she rectify that
to drink?” she asks, upon reaching the kitchen.
just pants, embracing her flat screen.
the two chicken-wingers finished all the beer. I only got some schnapps left.”
Serita sighs, looking through the cupboard.
worries; something strong’s good.”
she scrambles for a proper glass, pours him the old peach schnapps.
he downs it.
fixed up,” he gasps, with glazed eyes, and passes out.
looking down at the label on the bottle, she startles: “Rectified Spirit.”
Once upon a time, Monique graduated in
communication science and developed corporate communication strategies and
concepts. Today she aims to instead paint vivid pictures with her words, rather
than creating insincere narratives for corporations in her hitherto unpublished
fiction, poetry, and songs.