Saturday, December 18

Object Writing Exercise: Heartthrob

He knew it. He could see it in their faces, the looks of desire, want.
And he played to it, it hadn't hurt him so far. He could get anyone to help him, give him a favour, lend a hand or offer their hand.. And more.

It was always that way. Thick rimmed glasses, a retainer and spots. There was a time that nobody paid a second glance. He drifted around the streets invisible to all, women, men. Then one day it changed. No more spots, contacts and a haircut, new t shirts and the approving looks started rolling in. Then the advances. How did he play this, he wasn't used to the attention but he learned to like it.

Remembering the first touches of a girl. Something months before he was resigned to never knowing. The electricity of her fingers, her lips. How the sound of a caught breath made his heart beat that touch faster. How the scent of perfume made everything else seem less important.

Now the world was laid out in front of him. Throwing itself at his feet. It owed him a little for all the years of obscurity. Now it was his turn to reap the benefits.Is this what a movie star or sportsman feels like? Ten feet tall and unstoppable? It was a good feeling.


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