The Quick and The Quirky by Stephen F.C. Porter

Author:Stephen F.C. Porter [Porter, Stephen F.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stephen F.C. Porter
Published: 2021-09-21T00:00:00+00:00

DANCING ON THE GRAVE

It’s hard to say how this came about, but I’m pretty sure it has to do with my love of words. The right word can change the direction of a story, even when it isn’t planned. The first word in this story became the cornerstone of this tale. It’s actually a love story, but a pretty sordid one at that, and my only one that comes close to having a sex scene.

Dancing on the Grave

Juxtaposition. Marcie smiled. That’s the word Mr. Folkard had used. It means opposites, used together to highlight their difference. Big literary technique. Lots of the best writers used it.

Funny thing to be thinking of. But there it was. Jack thrust hard. She knew he was getting close. Her ass was cold, pressed against the marble slab. But Jack’s body, pressed against her, was hot and sweaty. Yup, that was juxtaposition. Wonder if she could talk about it in class on Monday. Geez you are one crazy chick, she thought. No surprise people avoid you, whisper about you. Jack was there. She let out the obligatory moan, cried out to a deity she wasn’t sure she believed in, said Jack’s name a few times, and then sighed, as he collapsed on top of her.

Not that she didn’t enjoy making love to Jack. It’s just this was kind of weird. I mean, weird was what they did. But fucking on a tombstone? That was pretty blasphemous. Another of Mr.F’s contributions to her verbal lexicon. And lexicon. She turned the word over, blasphemous, blasphemous, blasphemous. Each time she emphasized a different syllable. Jack’s breathing was starting to slow down, and she could feel him growing soft inside her.

“You okay babe?” he offered.

Marcie winced as he pulled out. “Yeah, guess so.”

“What’s the matter, you seem a bit distracted?”

“Dude, have you forgotten the last 12 hours? We’re not only fornicating on a grave slab, but there’s a fucking body lying five feet away from us, and we’re responsible.”

“I thought you said it would be exciting to do it here?” Jack was standing now. He slipped his T-shirt on and zipped up.

“Yeah well that carcass staring up at us, kinda weirds me out.” Marcie, now dressed, was looking for her left shoe in the damp grass.

“Hey, we said no cold feet.”

“Yeah, well my ass is cold and my feet are fucking numb. What the hell were we thinking of? We got away with it once, but lightning doesn’t usually strike twice.” This is what it had come to. Months of planning and scheming and shitting themselves that they were going to be found out. But they hadn’t been.

***

They weren’t just the school freaks; they were probably the smartest students in that school full of doorknobs. Hmm, wasn’t saying much, Marcie supposed. Still, this had been the perfect crime up to now. Not that they considered it a crime. Those two jerks had it coming. They’d made Marcie and Jack’s lives a living hell for the past two years. Maybe others too.

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