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"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing" – Benjamin Franklin

Posts tagged A beggar, A prostitue, and A writer

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Charolette didn’t mean to chain smoke but when she was in a writing fit she did without even knowing. Half a pack down with the day not even done. Her life had been a complicated mess lately and the Drs had ordered her to wait to quit but she was ready to be done with this habit. It ruled her life. She hated that. So did Sam. Thats not what bothered her. Most of society hated that, thats what she hated. All she ever wanted was to be accepted but she always stood out like a bright yellow crayon in a black and white painting. Some people cannot help but to stand out from the crowd. This was Charlotte. She glowed when she walked into a room, her smile could melt a snowman. This was just who she was. She also had a passive aggressive side. Her face showed when she was upset about something. But her telling you was one thing. It was like pulling teeth. Hitting rock bottom was something she had never thought she would be at. She honestly never thought she would live to see rock bottom but alas she had made it long enough to hit rock bottom. And here it was. Staring her blatantly in the face. She had NO money, tons of debt, NOTHING TO her name but a house that was not in her name completely. It was complicated. She would probably lose the house or spend a lot of stress over it. For now it was as good as not having it to her name. Her job was soon to be gone. NY may not be the place for her she was quickly realizing. But where would she go.

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She sat outside her balcony glaring over the skyline for one of the last time she presumed. When who could it be? But Sam I am. He came up to Charlotte and grabbed her neck and pushed it up as he kissed her passionately. It had been two weeks since they had seen each other. Life on Wall Street got busy at times. Charolette was expecting him so she had set candles and some appetizers and wine out for them. They chatted, drinking wine, watching the sunset fall over the NY sky line. It was the perfect evening. Sam carried the dishes in and Charlotte grabbed the sheet. After sam put the dishes away he carried Charolette to the bedroom where he threw her on the bed and unbuttoned her shirt one button at time. Kissing her neck as he went. Charlotte lay at the ceiling wondering when she should tell Sam she was leaving. She would probably wait till the last minute. He quickly thrust her hands up by her head. Holding them there where she couldn’t move. He slowly moved down taking her pants off with his mouth. She had never had such a kind man show so much control over her. He slipped inside of her like a perfect fit. He finally released his her hands only so that he could please her. When she was ready to finally climax he wrapped his hands tight around her neck in just the right way. Charlotte was in a trance of pleasure. Neurons firing in every direction in her brain. Pleasure going to every inch of her body. Afterwards she kissed Sam passionately and just lay there smiling. She had never met someone she clicked with on so many levels. Mental, Physical, intelligence, and more then likely religious. The problem was neither one of them was ready for nothing more than a casual relationship. At thirty its hard. Charlotte said her nightly prayer, rolled over and cut her sound machine on. Sam was actually staying the night this time.

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Sam came into his east hill apartment around 12:30am. He always felt terrible not staying the night at charlottes. But alas he was allergic to her cats. He threw his Iron and Wine record on and tossed his hand stitched brief case to the side. He was just as over today as Charolette was. Life on Wall Street wasn’t always what it was cracked up to be. It took a lot of work. Before he became a broker, Sam was a world traveling chef. He used to travel the world writing blogs about the different cultures and foods he encountered. What with that not making the rent and with his parents split he needed to do something else. He needed to grow up so to speak. Get a REAL job. Stop “playing” around as everyone called it. Charlotte always called it “art” and said he should always follow his dreams. Thats one of the things he loved so much about her. There was so much naivety to her. Like she had seen so much hurt and pain of the world that instead of it making her bitter and hostile it made her more of a lover. Sam however was not a lover by any means. Nor was he cold. He just didn’t show much emotion. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t have any.

Miles away across town Charlotte lay in her bed wishing she didn’t have cats listening to her own created station on pandora. It sucked sleeping alone in such a big big city. “I can’t wait to get back to the country”, Charlotte sighed out loud to any of her cats that would listen. If she did in fact lose her job she will have lost everything. She basically lived pay check to pay check anyway so this was going to hit hard. She knew would have to move back home. It was her only option. But how. How would this even be feasible? She didn’t even have money for a truck. Before she knew it she was dozing off at her laptop while trying to finish one more article to try and save her job. Would it work? She hoped it would. She loved her job. She was good at it. It was the first actual writing job she had ever gotten and she didn’t want to lose it now. There wasn’t many people at the “Daily Harold” that actually LIKED Charolette. She was sort of on the different side. She used the “L” word which scared people like they were cock roaches running from fire. All this weighed on Charlotte as she laid in bed staring up at the ceiling. She couldn’t even find a man who could stand to stay the night with her.

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There once was a girl who never in her life thought she would be coupled into all three categories but somehow she was. This is the story of how this all came to be.

So there she was just a tapping, tapping at her computer as Eric Clapton played in the background on her record player. She had to get this article in before her boss went a wall. This was the second time she was late for her article and it was all because she had been sick the past few months. Luckily she had been able to keep her job because she was such a great writer. Her long blonde hair fell carelessly over her face as she brushed it aside to hit the send button. Before she knew it her cat Hemingway had jumped on her computer and hit delete. She knew this was the last straw. She knew her job was done for. She literally had $300 in the bank and a pile of unopened mail. This was not good. Instead of losing her mind she grabbed her headphones, pulled her hair into a pony tail and went for a run downtown. On her run she passed many beggars on the street. Not knowing in the coming days this would be her. Not knowing she would be considered a prostitute by her own family. Not knowing any of this she ran. She ran so hard and fast. Sweat pouring down her face she imagining running from all the things stressing her out, her finances, her lack of stability, her on going mental health issues, her lack of resources and a support system, and finally her lack of love. She had never ran so hard in her life. When she made it back to her apartment there was a pleasant surprise waiting there for her. It was Sam. Sam was the guy she was seeing. He was a broker on wall street. They weren’t serious but that didn’t mean they didn’t like each other or respect each other. No one even said they didn’t have love for each other. They were just both at time in each others lives where a relationship didn’t fit. Sam always made Charlotte happy.

“How was your day” Sam asked as Charlotte got her keys from her shoelace.

“Fine I guess”, Even though she really wanted to say “it was awful, terrible, the cat freaking lost me my job probably but other than that I’m just great.”

You see Sam and Charlotte had only been together a couple of weeks so she didn’t feel exactly comfortable telling him EVERYTHING just yet.

“You look exhausted” Sam said as he caressed the charlottes lower back.

“YOU have NO idea” She exclaimed as they walked up the stairs to her apartment.

Before the key was in the lock they were in an embrace that not even nature itself could break. When the door opened Sam began to take Charlottes clothes off piece by piece and place in her dirty clothes hamper. He ran the shower for her. Once she was in the shower Sam decided to join her. Once he was in the shower with her their bodies became a blur of one through the fogged over glass shower door.