This is an entry for the FEMFLASH 2013 writing competition from Mookychick Online. Enter now.

The shorts were covered in sequins and clung tight on her buttocks, rising high on the hips and leaving a slice of black, wobbly flesh in between her waistband and bra top. A woman put her hand over her mouth as Janelle passed the bus stop and she laughed: today, walking felt like her feet kissing the earth.

3522886588_0ef18c32ab_oSo when she heard the car slow down and the low animal noise, plural, somewhere between a hiss and a growl, it felt all the worse against her buoyancy.

“Hey baby. Baby. Baby. We’re talking to you, baby.”

She felt the car trailing beside her and her body begin to tremble, and told herself sternly to stop.

“Don’t be so shy, baby. We’re only being friendly.”

She shuddered, her legs wobbling like a heat haze.

“Let’s check out the goods, boys.”

His hand met the sequinned shorts, and from her shaking mouth she felt the familiar fire erupt and spurt forth like a torrent of water. The car stood scorched like a toy engine devastated by a blowtorch, two dazed bodies inside, one trying to crawl away.

She bit her lip. Fuck it, she had to run, else she’d miss the starters.


One Response to “Crawl”

  1. 1 StineE

    Dear Chloe, I’m doctoral student at the University of Maryland researching how women use social media to write about feminism, women, maternal and family issues. I would like to interview you about your blog. If you are interested please e-mail me at Thank you very much for considering my request. Best wishes, Stine Eckert (@stineeckert)

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