Location: Chicago, Illinois, United States

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Corn Diamonds

It is nine in the morning on May first. The sun shines through the once lemon-colored hotel curtains, which ruffle in the dewy breeze. She rises from the bed and stretches and scratches at her stubbly armpit. Her emaciated figure barely cuts a shadow on the floor. "Whatta morning," she says. "I need coffee."
He flings the sheet back which heretofore had covered a morning surprise, though those who know him would not be surprised at all. He raises his eyebrows and beckons her.
"Put away your hard on," she says. "I want the coffee."
"You like pleasing it. Might be nutritious even."
"Fuck you. I'm a lady. I don't put out unless you buy lobster, remember, the lobster we had at Red Lobster..."
He wags himself about, then tucks his member into the elastic band of his boxer shorts. "It's all full of piss anyway."
Outside a pigeon warbles throatily. The breeze catches the curtains, whose frayed brown edges whip her bare shoulders. The breeze eases, the curtains fade, and she touches herself about the navel, circling with her bitten nails. Goose bumps and yellow hair surface.
She wobbles and her eyes glaze over. "Been someone in my room, daddy, you can't have diamonds."
The ceiling fan, down to just three and a half blades, spins lazy turns.
Her eyes come into focus. "Diamonds."
"You don't have any diamonds, whore." He picks at his cauliflower wart foot. "If you had diamonds, you wouldn't have to suck dick at the cannery."
She spasms. "How would you like your dick cut off, Mr. Dick? I mean the cream corn that I'm doing, Tahiti."
"I don't want any of your creamed corn. I can't believe..."
"S'mine. S'all mine, and I'm gonna...I'm gonna finish it."
"The pallet?" He pulls out the elastic of his boxers and lets it go with a snap. "You've been eating creamed corn for...six weeks now. And sometimes with your hands. .."
Her eyes glint, hardened carbon, "Just when we have the wine."
"I can't shower because the tub is filled with the shit."
She sighs. "S'only only fifty cans left. Wallee said..."
"I don't give a damn what Wally said..."
She disappears into the bathroom.
He rises from the bed. His mouth contorts several times in rapid succession. "Whore...corn whore," he mutters.


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