New Stuff

    Current Issue
    eW News
    Short Stories
    Flash Fiction
    Poetry
    Non-Fiction
    Featured Artists
    Pushcart Prize

Cool Stuff

    Interview
    radLIBS Contest
    Member Forum
    Links
    The Fridge
    You Need It
    Help

Other Stuff

    Mission & Editor Bios
    Archives
    Art Bibliography

eW Masthead

    Leigh Hughes
      Editor-in-Chief/Publisher
    Judy Wolf
      Non-Fiction & Art Editor
    Michelle Garren Flye
      Fiction & Poetry Editor
    Mark Lipowicz
      Associate Editor, Poetry
    Dan McNeil
      Associate Editor, Fiction
    Andrew Tibbetts
      Associate Editor, Fiction

Site sponsored by:

Atomic Video Ranch

Go to eAcceleration.com


© Copyright 2004

Benadryl

by Elizabeth P. Glixman


If she told him that she hated the shrimp scampi he ordered her for dinner, he would be angry. Maybe leave the restaurant. He would definitely not sleep with her later that night in the suite she reserved for them on the twentieth floor of the hotel. She needed to have his arms around her, to ease the places that her job had ruffled and she had worn all day as badges of misery.

She needed to feel his breath follow the rim of her lips and his tongue search this emptiness. It had been an awful day at work. She lost two of her major accounts this morning, the ad campaign for Schwimmer's Restaurants and the TV shots for Ambien sleeping pills.

She looked at him. She could see the curly hair on his chest inside his flimsy polyester shirt. She could see wiry strands creep like vines up his neck and his hands were covered in a fine dark moss. She found him attractive in this jungle. He was someone she would not bring to her office parties. He was only what she wanted tonight. In a dark room.

Should she tell him she disliked seafood, was allergic to most of it especially shrimp? Or should she risk it and wait for the hives to appear one by one like inflated beach balls in the sea? She had never died from her allergy before. Isn't that obvious. She laughed a windchime sound. He didn't hear. He was looking at the veal parmigana their neighbors were eating. She wondered if he thought he should have ordered prime rib.

She stuck her hand in her pocketbook making sure she had her antihistamines. Her doctor said go no where with out them.

As she looked at him across the candle lite table she wondered if he had ever done an at home hair removal treatment or gone to an electrolysist. It must be hard for his housekeeper to vacuum up all the stray hairs, both his and his dog's. Hair fascinated her.

Oh, go for it she thought as the maitre d' placed the pinkish shrimp in front of her. She popped an antihistamine, looked at her watch. She had an hour and a half until those little beach balls would inflate. She chewed quickly. She wanted to use the time wisely.





More About Elizabeth P. Glixman:

Elizabeth P. Glixman's poetry, fiction, and nonfiction has appeared online at storySouth, Frigg, 3A.M. Magazine, and in Tough Times Companion, a print publication of the Institute on Violence and Survival at the Virginia Foundation for the Humanities. Recent poetry is also included in the print edition of Wicked Alice, a poetry journal and in Explorers, a collection of contemporary literature. Her first book of poetry is looking for a home.


Back to Flash Fiction