Tag Archives: neighbors

Nerd Love

Um, I just wrote this for myself and it’s really silly. I’m posting it unedited because something in me says if I don’t post it now, I won’t post it at all.

Every time I talk shit on romances, I immediately try to write one. This is the closest to a real romance that I’ve probably ever written.

 


 

Maura was allergic to everything. Gluten, dairy, eggs, barley, tomatoes, and of course peanuts. She had so much EpiPen, she started to get high off it. When forced into social situations, she would sometimes take an allergen just so she could stick herself with the EpiPen. She was also a cutter and an alcoholic and an asthmatic.

Being thin and pale and unable to leave her filtered house without all kinds of defenses, she spent a great deal of her time playing video games inside. She was amazing at video games. She was top level in her RPG, high man in the FPS, and a real whiz at MineSweeper.

One day she heard about a new game called “Knock Your Socks Off.” She wasn’t sure what it was, but it got good reviews, so she downloaded it and started it up.

An electric shock from her computer jolted through her, she kicked spasmodically until her socks went sailing clear across the room.

When she woke up, a beautiful man was leaning over her. He had chromium gray eyes, a steel cut chin, and a build like… Shrek. Hm. “Are you okay?” He said.

She let him help her up before she realized he was in her room. “How did you get here? Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m your neighbor Ralph. I just moved in.”

She looked around. Her computer was dead.

“Did the power go out?”

“Yes, I think there was a massive surge. I saw lightning flicker across my ceiling. Then I heard a loud crash from your room next to mine and when I came out to see, your door had blown clean off the hinges.  What do you think could have done this? Does your computer draw a lot of power?”

“Oh… no…” she said weakly. Her computer was a Behemoth 10,000, top of the line, and waayy over the building’s electric capacity. She had saved for two years just to afford the payments.

Her throat felt itchy. Wait.. no door!? Oh no. She hadn’t taken any antihistamines or otherwise prepared for this attack on her respiratory system. Her face was already swelling up. She was going to die. She was getting delirious on the fear and adrenaline and lack of oxygen. Losing to delirium.

“Kiss me you mad impetuous fool,” she said thickly, and pulled him into a kiss.

Peanuts. He tasted of peanuts.

She was definitely going to die.

“WORTH IT,” she managed to choke out as everything went chromium gray.

 

The next thing she knew, she wasn’t dead. The EpiPen high was flooding through her. Her mouth tasted of  strange lip balm. And peanuts. And misery. And climate control? Whence came this life-giving air filtration?

She shook her head to clear it, then regretted that move when a headache slammed into her like a Mack truck.

“Oh my god, you’re awake!” A magnificent baritone took the edge of her pain. There he was. Concerned gray eyes. High gloss full black hair. And… well, she’d always been fond of Shrek anyway.

“I realized your climate control was gone so I brought you into my place. I hope that’s okay.”

“You administered the EpiPen?”

“I’m a diabetic. I know how to give a shot.”

A diabetic… with climate control… EpiPen anytime..?

All of the sudden Maura couldn’t talk to him anymore. “Thank you,” she managed. “If you ever want a sugar free dessert… I have a lot of sugar free jello in my cabinet I didn’t know what to do with.”

His eyes widened. “I… love jello,” he said.

That was their first awkward moment together.

 

So they got married and lived together in nerdy bliss and rarely had to leave their house. Ralph invited a lot of people over though, and Maura was forced to make more friends.

 

The end

 

Failed to write a love story

 

I don’t like romance novels. It’s the one genre I despise. I like a good romance, but not the formula Harlequin stuff. Boring. Easy.
I thought, well, if I’m so cocky, if love stories are so easy, then write one. So… I tried.

Enjoy the failure.

 


 

Daymond looked through the slats of his blinds at the neighbor across the street. She was walking around without a shirt again. Didn’t she think anyone could see her? He turned away. But even after he went to sleep, the image of her followed him into his dreams.

The doorbell rang. Ugh, it was early. He dragged himself from bed, bleary-eyed, pathetic, and answered the door in just his tattered pajama pants.
It was her.
He scooched his lower half behind the door to hide his shameful attire. He always took care in how he dressed, doubly so around her. The pants were an embarrassment.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning, and merry Christmas!” she said, her bright morning energy entering his brain through his eyeballs and burning a channel straight to the back of his skull.
She handed him a bag of cookies tied off with a bow. Cute. Distressingly colorful. Dear God what time was it. He stared at the bag and tried to remember what the etiquette was, was it even Christmas? What planet was this again?
“Ah, I’m sorry,” she said, her face falling. “Did I wake you up?”
“Huh? Oh, y…yes… no. It’s fine, I was just getting up anyway.”
“I’ll let you get dressed then. Sorry!”
She gave him another blinding smile and trotted back to her house.
Get dressed?
She thought he’d answered the door nude? She had the gall to treat him like HE was the nudist? He would burn those pants as soon as possible. They were ten times more mortifying than he’d originally thought.
He shut the door and put the cookies on the kitchen table. Cinnamon and ginger fragrance eked through the cellophane. They were so cute.
He reran the conversation in his mind… he’d forgotten to thank her. How rude he’d been!
He cleaned himself up properly, took his time. Showered, shaved, brushed, put on one of his nicer shirts. She wouldn’t think him a scruffy nudist after this.
Knocking on her door was scarier than he’d expected.
“Just a minute!” She called through the door.
When she did answer, she was dripping wet, in a towel. Just out of the shower. She smelled like coconut and jasmine. The towel was only barely big enough to cover her generous assets.
“I, uh… sorry, was this a bad time?”
“Not at all!” She replied. She looked genuinely happy to see him.
Her breasts were smashed into perfect cleavage under the weight of her arm. Her legs were so long, so long, and they ran all the way up to the edge of the towel… oh dear God. He was getting a little too happy to see her, as well. Why was she always parading like this? Wasn’t she cold? Didn’t she realize what she was doing??
“Thank you. For the cookies! I realized I’d forgotten to say thank you.”
Don’t look down, don’t draw attention to it, hold her gaze. He had to get out of here quick before she noticed. At least his pants were the loose kind. But what was that draft?
She noticed. Her jaw dropped.
The draft… he looked down. He’d neglected to zip his fly. All that care in dressing and he’d left his zipper open. Or maybe it’d come down as he walked?
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Mr. Happy had poked his head out and wanted to thank her, too.
His face bright red, he hastily tucked it all back in and down and zipped everything into place. But the damage had been done.
“That was an accident, I swear! I didn’t know…” what? That his fly was open? That she’d answer the door in full sex kitten mode?
He choked on his words. Never again could he talk to her. He couldn’t even look her in the eye. He was going to be her #MeToo story forever.
In shame he fled her front porch and hurried back to his house.
“Wait!” She called.
To his horror, she ran out of the door after him in her towel. Everything bounced.
“Wait!” She caught up to him in the middle of the street. “It’s not a big deal, really.”
She got off on it. The sexual power. What else could explain her behavior?
He still couldn’t look at her.
“Did you try the cookies?” She asked. Was she actually trying to start a new conversation?
“Um, not yet… they smelled good. Listen, you’re not dressed, don’t you want to go inside?”
She looked confused. “Oh, I have a towel on, it’s fine. I just didn’t want you to leave like that.”
“You don’t think I’m some kind of pervert?”
She beamed another one of her smiles at him. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Oookay. I’m going home now. Nice knowing you.”
“Wait?”
“What FOR?” That came out harsher than he’d intended, but this was torture.
“Come back into my house. Try a cookie.”
“Wait… you are the pervert here? You’ve been trying to seduce me all along!”
“There are cookies at my house…”
She grabbed him by his shirt front and led him back into her house. He was never heard from again.

 


 

Well, I don’t know much but I know that’s not love. A distinct lack of sweetness, haha. Awkward boners tend to overwhelm a romance. Well, I’ll just have to keep trying until I get one right. Let that be a lesson to me.

I still don’t like dime romance novels though.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

My neighbors

 

My neighbors

raise their voices to each other

at their front door

on a Saturday morning.

She shuts him out.

Let me in, he says.

Lana. Lana. Lana.

He calls her name

gently, patiently

with a trace of humor

and a deep seated

carefully masked

trace of Fear.

It isn’t long

before she opens the door.

He goes inside

acting

very

calm.

As if the most precious thing he had was

not

hinged upon his graciously handling

the delicate situation.