Part 1: The 20 minute story.

The following was an assignment for my creative writing class I took as an undergrad.  We had to time ourselves, 20 minutes, and just write.  Then repeat, and repeat again, so that we were writing for a solid 60 minutes.

This is what came out on the first shot.  I later submitted it to the literary magazine at Iona and caused a big ruckus- apparently some people didn't think it was "Mission Consistent".  Luckily the literary magazine had some awesome editors who fought against those naysayers, citing freedom of speech and creative freedom.

*Thank you to my AMAZING friend S who saves everything, including my 20 page story that I have since lost due to many a failed hardrive.  She gets all the kudos for reading the crazy things I write, too! *

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She pulled the covers over her head and snuggled back down into the abyss of blankets.  “Mmm…” she murmured, folding herself back against his warm body. The air in their apartment was bitterly cold. The sun was barely up, and she had no desire to crawl out of her safe space and into the shower which was sure to be uncomfortably cool. She felt his arms tighten around her waist. She giggled and her toes curled. She was definitely not getting out of bed. She felt his warm, soft lips leaving a trail of little kisses against her collarbone. She had thought they had promised not to do this again. Being late for work again was not an option. She sighed again and stretched her thin frame as tall as she could.

Wrapping her hands behind his head she pulled him in close and kissed him. She kissed him hard and long and felt herself melting the way she always did when he was with her. She felt him gently lift her hips up so he could slide in between her and the sheets. She giggled and pressed her body against the marvelous boy that was in bed with her. 



“Stop thinking… just give in for once.” His deep, raw, powerful voice sent chills up her spine. She pressed her fingers into his back and looked him dead in the eye. Her eyes sparkled with an intensity that only his love could bring to her. Desperate passion filled every ounce of her body. Their morning love making was her favorite. They were well rested and already warm. There was no “warming up” needed.



Her breaths were heavier, more labored as their bodies twisted together, rhythmically, perfectly, stretching and turning and falling until they were one. One whole, perfect human creature so desperately and so passionately in the throes of love that nothing could stop them. She never wanted this part to stop. Their breathing quickened and she forced herself to take deep breaths. Her heart raced and her body felt like electricity was coursing through reaching every toe and finger and nerve. They collapsed together, a feat that had taken months of practice.  She smiled and looked up at the perfect man on top of her. He brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes and kissed her forehead. He kissed her eyes and cheeks and ears and the tip of her nose. And then he kissed her lips, perfectly soft and full of emotion. She wished he could read her mind right now. She wanted him to see the electric colors that jumped and danced and swirled like magic when she closed her eyes. She broke their gaze for a second to steal a glance of her alarm clock. She didn’t want to go to work. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered softly to him, barely loud enough for him to hear.



“I love you.”

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This work is licensed under the Creative Commons License. This work may be reproduced with permission from the author, and you may not alter, transform, or build upon this work. Any use of this work must be attributed to the author, Kathryn Malara.  The above text is original work and is protected as such. http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/3.0/