How Revolting

I think as a writer, success is definately in seeing somebody moved by your work. I remember I was overwhelmed with accomplishment as a friend read over a piece of my work and I turned to her, tears streaming down her face. "It's just so sad!" she declared. Making my friend cry made me very happy indeed.

I guess an even larger accomplishment would be to read back a piece of my own work and make myself cry. That hasn't happened yet, I did however make myself feel ill.

I stumbled upon this extract from a short story about a girl who leaves home and becomes a prostitue. It's quite vile.

"I returned on a regular basis to my first customer, he was a respectable man in his clothes, baggy suede trousers, green knit jumper, moustache and pipe. But when his clothes came off, he was different. He was an un-earthly fellow, covered head to toe in wiry hair, skin hung loose about his stomache and waist, his legs and thighs, his neck and cheeks. He beamed a toothy smile whenever i visited him, wafting wads of cash towards me, telling me his malignant desires, asking me to demonstrate my prowess. He was the most disgusting of my customers, but paid the most too. There were times when he stood over me, slapping himself against my lips, bouncing off of my chin. And times when he would tie me down, and grunt and sputter behind me. Other times he'd spit on my face, lick me all over, make me twist his nipples and taste his revulsion. "Daddy's little girl" he would shout slapping my exposed leg or thigh, cupping or squeezing my breasts, tugging at my hair or clawing at my back, I cringed but always continued to kiss him. His breath was pungent, his lips wet and fat, his teeth broken and decayed, his tongue slippery and invasive. We never made love, we only fucked, shagged and copulated. It was lustful and carnal. I despised every moment of it. "

I don't remember writing this. How revolting. I'm thinking about re-writing the short story as it's quite badly written.

What do you think? Yes, you. Leave a comment.

All words copyright of Calum McSwiggan.