Spitwrite Box Set

Part 3

Part 3

Blanche didn't have any luggage with her. She had just ran away from the only family she had left who wanted to put her in a mental hospital. Her sister's husband, a brute, a Neanderthal, had r***d her. Yes, she had been pushy and irritating, and yes, she had tried to meddle in her sister's life. But that silly Stella even took his side after she found out that Blanche was r***d!

She had no one any more. No one.

She had sought solace at her sister's after messing up her own marriage, after her stupid mouth and her constant taunts made her closeted husband kill himself for being gay. Not one of her best moments.

Maybe she did deserve to be punished for that. Maybe a firm slap, maybe two. Not being pushed on the floor and forced to open her legs and...

She touched the side of her eye, this was no time to mess up her makeup. She had nothing to fix it with, and no money to buy more. She thought about going to the ladies room and asking some woman for some eyeliner, but that was a last resort. She wasn't gonna beg just yet.

She waited patiently for the car. Taxis came and went, both self-driving and not, they rolled past her, slowing down, flashing their signs. The human drivers checked her out top to bottom, the self-driving ones simply scanned her gestures and body posture. She made no attempt to hail them so they quickly moved on, looking for the next tariff.

She was beginning to feel silly after an hour. There was no guarantee Desire would come. Perhaps it was just an urban legend, creepypasta even. Perhaps it was a viral campaign from some automotive company, or even just a well-made prank. She did feel silly now, waiting for a car that would not come. Using a hashtag wasn't exactly reliable as a means of communication, even with a self-driving car, was it?

She huffed so many times she thought she would get dizzy. Her feet hurt, these heels weren't the comfiest ones, but they were the ones she ran off with. Just deal with it, Blanche.

And the people around, they kept staring at her. The shopkeepers, the beggars waving their cups and paycards around. If only they knew that she was in a worse situation than them. At least they had some coins in their cups and some change in their paycards, she had nothing. Absolutely nothing, except the things she wore and her phone. Which she would sell in an instant at the second-hand shop across the street, if she didn't think it was the only thing that could summon Desire.

There was street food, and it was killing her. Normally, she'd scoff at the sight of such dirty and fatty snacks. Now, they seemed like the world's finest delicacy, meat on a stick, corn on the coals, that one was really singing to her, 'eat me, eaaat meee' like a siren, and chocolates.

Her stomach growled, she could swear people heard her across the street.

She was ready to give up, this was stupid. This was beyond stupid. Maybe she was crazy, maybe her sister was right. Maybe she should be locked up.

She wanted to sell her phone and grab something to eat. Heck, she'd f**k the street vendor right behind that garbage bin right now if he also gave her some meat she could eat.

Blanche was about to give in. And then she saw it, the car, Desire. She was certain that was it. There was nothing particular about it, just an older model, you saw those running about in Athens. But she could tell, she really could. Desire stopped right in front of her. The windows were turned to privacy mode, completely black.

The driver's door was right in front of her.

Blanche leaned in to touch the door handle. She hesitated, looked around. Yup, perhaps her sister was right.

But she didn't give a f**k any more.