Funny Short Story – To Be a Woman
Jasmine awoke because a kiss on her neck.
She stretched herself out, shoving him away, but the moment her hand returned empty to her body, she caught him, pulled close to herself, and put her dry from the night lips to his.
This long kiss could turn any frog into a prince. For a while, she rolled the thought in her head, then let the hot feeling spread her belly. She began imagining: a great frog leaped into her bed, turned towards Jasmine, opened his mouth, and his long mucous tongue flied toward her cheek. There it rested stuck, dripping on her saliva and two dead flies.
She saw all this as in a flash, but her only reaction was to shrug, as she knew too well that her prince wasn’t a frog, but a real man.
Half stretching once more, she returned to her kiss. However, her lips did not meet any resistance—he was not there.
What? How dares he!
Jasmine began visualizing colors of fire in which she would put him. She closed her eyes and saw a large pot. Slowly she began to fill it with water, all the time watching his face. With his mouth plugged with a cucumber, he tried to eat his way out. She saw him twisting away from the pot, and decided to tip the water out.
The beginning of his relaxed smile died the moment she poured in the first bottle of oil. His eyes got wider and wider and when there was no place to go further, she put a pot on fire.
The orange and blue of her imagination’s flame were so hypnotic that Jasmine forgot about him.
She thought about herself. Maybe all this was her fault. He saw her and ran away!
She broiled herself for not being enough appealing in the morning. She felt wet spreading from the inside of her eyes to lashes. She tried to recollect the place where she has put her mobile so that she could immediately phone to her mother and tell her how bad she felt.
Suddenly, Jasmine heard steps. He entered slowly into the room with a tray. She saw on it a steaming coffee pot, but other things were still invisible.
When he put the tray on her belly, Jasmine could see there a plate with an omelet, some cheese, bread and a cup for coffee. He took a flower, which was tucked between his teeth, and tickled her nose with it. Jasmine smiled and sneezed. Then smiled once more.
She was a woman after all and it was her due. It was nice that there were people who remembered this. She enjoyed it immensely.
Yet, after quarter of an hour, she saw the other side of being a woman.
Jasmine entered the kitchen where she found signs of the battle that have taken place not long ago. She looked at the give-away marks of yellow fingerprints on walls and some yolk on the ceiling (did he really try to throw and turn the egg in the pan?) While thinking about the smoke rising from the toaster, with her finger she distractedly made a line in the sugar spilled on the table and mixed with the remains of the butter’ jam and bread crumbs.
Jasmine heard the entrance door slam. She knew that he left for work. Nevertheless, he did not leave her alone.
He has left her with dishes.