"The Dare" a brief inner monologue from the Shopping List Writing Exercise

Shopping List

Black Fishnet Pantyhose

Razors and Shaving cream

Red Lipstick

Chocolate Syrup

Ice Cream

Wax (Hair removal)

18 rounds 9mm bullets

Duct Tape

Vodka

Handcuffs

Latex

The Dare

Oh, CRAP! Tonight’s the night. I did it on a dare and I want to back out. I can’t. They’ll know. They’ll check up on me. They know I want to cancel. I HATE dares!

I’m doing it. A couple Vodka shots will ease my anxiety. Right?

One shot. Two shots…

The red lipstick on the rim breaks my concentration. The anxiety is back.

I have an idea…

The chocolate syrup drizzles like blood seeping from a wound, lacing the ice cream in a viscous web. Mmmmm…

The anxiety diminishes with each bite of this creamy confection.

Step two, the preparation. I run my hands across my legs. Dang. My last wax job has warn off. I’ll have to resort to the old stand-by: shaving cream and razor. So archaic. The Vodka did nothing to steady the constant tremble in my hand. I just manage to avoid nicking my ankle. I’d hate to leave any obvious DNA traces.

Carefully I dress for success. My alabaster skin appears translucent through the black fishnet of my pantyhose. The waist rips so I secure it with a ring of duct-tape. I won’t need to remove them in a hurry.

I grab my bag and check its contents:

Gloves, check (Not latex, though, I have allergies.)

Handcuffs, check.

Bullets…missing.

I grab 18 rounds of 9mms from the dresser as I head to the door. The gun is tucked safely in the waistband of my skirt.

One last bite of ice cream and I’m gone. My mind is clear. I’m completing this dare.