A Woman of Means (first chapter) - Diego .T. Stanley (pdf e book reader .TXT) 📗

A new beginning after an old start

Chapter 1

A new beginning after an old start

 

Jemima took a deep, smelly, heavy, stinky breath. That was when she knew that the place tasted of shite. Oh god, here we go again she thought to herself again. The start is never easy to swallow but Jemima’s forte was swallowing and so this issue was chucked out the window along with the cigarettes Jemima quit smoking over a month ago.

The room was bare which made sitting down uncomfortable due to the fact I previously mentioned about how bare the room was. ‘Scooby-Doo! Nice to meet you!’ Jemima turned briskly round to see who'd made a mockery of her seventh favourite cartoon; it was a scruffy man with a straw hat and sunglasses.

‘Hello Mr?’ Jemima greeted him whilst also implying she was unaware of this man’s name.

‘Cat. Dick Cat.’ He responded with his name. Jemima couldn't help but smirk at this name due to it’s strangeness at the fact he was called Dick Cat.

‘I'm Jemima.’ She responded with her name.

‘Cool, what's your star sign? Mines Cancer!’ Jemima shuddered and went quiet due to the fact all her family died of cancer over a month ago which, if you remember, was the same time she quit smoking which probably has a connection with her family dying of cancer although she never spoke about it much. ‘Anyway, I'm your neighbour if you need anything I'll be here. Maybe we could have sex some time.’ Dick’s humour immediately lightened the mood and Jemima couldn't help but chuckle at the humour that Dick made. ‘Catch you later! Although not literally because that wouldn't be easy with you, you fat bitch.’ Dick’s flirtatious banter was too much for Jemima, she was in love with Dick. He exited the room in the same way a knight dismounts from his horse except in this case it was in relation to a man leaving a room.

After Jemima caught her breath, which was easier to catch now that she had quit smoking over a month ago after her family died, she began unpacking. First she unpacked her underwear which she loved to wear as it made her clothes on top more comfortable although she would also reveal them to men whom she’d been in a deep relationship with; she was not a one night stand kind of girl (or so she thought). She put all her underwear in a neat pile on the floor due to the fact, which you may remember, the room was bare.

She reached back into her suitcase and took out something more important than underwear, it was as important as family as it was a picture of her family who died over a month ago. She stared at the picture with the same eyes she’d used to stare at them when they were alive; except this time they weren't. It made her think about the good times they'd had as well which is in fact quite a common part of the grieving process. She also thought about how much she hated cancer and how she would make it her mission to beat the living shite out of it if she ever met it. The fantasy was broken by the cold hard facts: she could never physically meet cancer making her dream of beating the shite out of it almost impossible. A single tear rolled from her eye, where tears come from, and streaked down to her chin. Although the moisture on her face slightly turned Jemima on, she couldn't help but still feel very sad.

The day was turning thin and by that I mean darker which meant night was coming closer. I'm as tired as a fish who hasn't stopped swimming Jemima thought amusingly to herself as she lay on the floor with a sheet over her, this was due to the fact that the room was bare. She couldn't help but think about Dick. There was something about that man which she found rather attractive, was it the straw hat which he wore or the sunglasses which he also wore along with the straw hat? His humour captured her heart in the same way white people would capture black people in the 1800s, this fact she knew from her studies of history. Was it the fact that they were probably the same age, which is 22 by the way, or the fact that they had the same green eye colour. She promised herself she wouldn't fall in love with a man instantly ever again after an encounter she had which was so brief it made her heart crumble just thinking about it. No, she wasn't going to chase after him like she'd done with men in the past. He would have to chase after her.

 

Eyes open. She was awake after a medium to decent sleep involving a bit of turning over now and again but overall it wasn't too shabby. Jemima gazed around her bare room to which she now called home. The bare nature of her room did bother her however, at least it makes it easy to describe she thought to herself in her usual witty/optimistic way of looking at things. The smell was still an issue, it smells like a dead woman's knickers she thought to herself once again in that manner people she met loved about her. She got out her caramel scented perfume and gave her room a good bit of TLC.

There was a knock at the door so, in response to the knock, Jemima opened the door. ‘Scooby-Doo! How are you?’ it was Dick. Remain calm, don't show your excitement she thought to herself.

‘I'm fine’ Jemima responded whilst keeping her cool. Dick then looked lower down her body and started panting like a dog.

‘Give it me!’ he said whilst pointing at her body; this was when she realised she was in her underwear.

‘Oh, excuse me’ Jemima replied trying to cover her body with some clothes from the floor, although she said ‘excuse me’ she was clearly embarrassed at the fact she was indeed in her underwear.

‘I ruddy would!’ he shouted at her, still pointing. Jemima blushed, there it was again: his undeniable charm.

‘Good day to you Mr Cat’ Jemima said, dignity in tact. Dick responded with a dog bark, Jemima couldn't help but giggle before closing the door. If she wasn't sure yesterday she was sure now, she definitely loved this man.

She faced back to her bare as bare can be room which reminded her of her priorities. She couldn't get all worked up over boys, I'm so past that she reminded herself. She was a grown woman now and she had no time for petty crushes, all men ever did for her was break her heart. Even her Dad, who unintentionally died of cancer of the eyes, broke her heart and she could no longer take it. I have to get a job she thought to herself as she knew she had to get a job. ‘Money costs work’ her now dead from cancer of the eyes parents used to tell her. The world was her oyster and she was one of those knives whose only other capabilities besides shucking oysters was murder. ‘Are you ready world?’ Jemima said aloud, this was obviously a rhetorical question as no one was actually there. She was ready to face the world and surely there won't be another man to distract her?

Yes, in actual fact another man was going to distract her but surely it wouldn't be today?

Yes, it would be today but surely it won't end up being her boss will it?

Yes, it will indeed be her boss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Publication Date: 08-03-2015

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