Write a first-person-plural narration of an event from the POV of a very close-knit couple. The reader should be unable to discern which of the two is telling the story. Do not use the first-person pronoun I in this exercise. Example: We found the body in the outhouse, and Jenny got the can of gasoline from the garage while Benjamin removed all the toilet paper rolls stacked up on the door shelves (No sense wasting them). 600 words.
I had some trouble with this one, and I'm not sure I did it right, but here it is. Enjoy.
We drove through the night across the dusty Texas highway in silence. Lenny stared at what there was of the fleeting barren landscape as Nora watched the road ahead. The Buick's wheels speeding down the highway droned over the sound of Motown playing on the radio. Oldies was the only station we could agree on. Occasionally, Nora would glance over at Lenny and frown. Lenny would do the same.
The silence weighed heavily on us with words we wanted to say, should have said years ago. The silence persisted between Lenny and Nora until the right front tire blew out twenty miles before we reached the town of Purgatory. Lenny cursed as Nora did her best to ease the Buick into the breakdown lane. We both climbed out of the car to check the damage. The tire was old, practically bald, and Nora said as much in an accusatory tone. Lenny gave her a sharp look that could have slapped her into the asphalt. We exchanged dirty looks. Nora was getting tired of his passive-aggressive bullshit. Lenny was sick of her constant nagging. For once, we longed for the heavy silence that preceded most of our arguments.
Nora crossed her arms against her chest as Lenny popped the trunk and made his way to the back of the car to rummage through the assorted junk for the jack and a tire iron. The trunk was huge, large enough to fit a human body. Nora tapped her foot impatiently, decided to have a smoke to calm her nerves, and rummaged through the glove compartment for a lighter. That's where we keep the gun.
Lenny found the rusty tire iron under a pile of luggage, most of which belonged to Nora. Nora's hand caressed the .38 Special, bought years ago when we lived in Groverleaf Apartments, located in the worst part of town. Lenny tested the weight of the tire iron while peeking around the raised trunk hatch. Our eyes met briefly and in that moment, Lenny realized he would never be free until the bitch was dead. Nora hated him, knew he would never be the man he hoped he would be. A divorce would break him. She would get peanuts in a divorce settlement compared to the millions she would get from his life insurance policy. We knew what we had to do and we were determined to get it done.
He gripped the tire iron tight and called Nora to come see what he found. Nora hid the gun behind her back as she made her way to the back of the car. We were sweating bullets over what we were about to do. We were terrified and horrified and exhilarated. Nora and Lenny had never felt more alive.
Lenny readied himself to swing as her clacking heels came closer. Nora cocked the hammer, ready to blow his brains out the second she whipped it out. She came into view holding something in her hands, and she froze as she focused on the tire iron. We stood there on the side of the road, shocked and frozen in our defensive positions, unable to take our eyes off each other.
We threw our weapons to the ground. Eyes smoldering, our hearts racing, Nora and Lenny threw themselves into each other's arms, kissing passionately, unable to keep our hands off each other. Nora hastily fumbled with his zipper while Lenny shucked up her skirt. We screwed each other's brains out, screaming and moaning, not caring if they were spotted by some passing motorist. Knowing it could happen made the whole thing that much more intense.
After we finished, Lenny zipped up his pants, Nora fixed her dress and grabbed her torn panties from the asphalt, and we both climbed into the car without saying a word. They spent the rest of the trip as silent as they started, but neither of us minded. The air had been cleared, and we could go on peacefully with our marriage...at least until their next road trip.
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