It had been ages since she had been in her own room after taking refuge downstairs for fear of her broken window, but at this moment she didn’t care if the crepitus blew its way through the gap and infected her; she just wanted to throw herself onto the mattress and mope.
Joey had called her a Jennifer! The absolute nerve. She didn’t name-call him ‘Joseph’, did she? But he would never be a Joseph; he would always be a Joey. He would be ninety years old and still be a Joey. On his creaky old deathbed, raising a trembling hand at those who stared down upon him, he would flick a booger at them and then a croaking giggle would be as his dying breath. Or she’d be on her deathbed, and he’d flick a booger at her with his old wrinkly fingers just as she died. A parting gift as she entered the afterlife.
Burying her face into the mattress, she stifled the giggle that tried to escape. She was too cranky to allow it — he had called her a Jennifer! The bastard.
Was it so wrong to want to live her own life, in her own house, with her own job paying for her own food and bills like a normal adult? What else was she supposed to do? She hadn’t inherited a whopping inheritance and a grand house on the edge of a forest. She had to earn her own pennies if she wanted to live. She couldn’t just breeze through life like he did. How could she make him understand that? It wasn’t that she wanted to live that life, but there was no other choice.
Not that it even mattered any more. How could anyone go about a normal life after this horrendous mushroom disease swept over the world? Would it ever be safe out there, or would they be living in fear of the crepitus for years to come? Was this the great extinction event that they had been warned about for quite some time now — the event that would eradicate humanity just like the dinosaurs had been? If so, it was disgusting. A giant meteorite hitting the ground and blasting everything in a hundred kilometre radius seemed a far better way to go. It would look pretty spectacular, too.
Jenny rolled over, stared at the slight imperfections in the ceiling and sighed.
If this truly was the end of the world, maybe she should just embrace it. There was nothing else to do and nothing else to lose; only her life, and that was as good as gone already.
Maybe she and Joey could go rummage through a few unoccupied houses and find some quality coffee. Oh, God. That would be wonderful. It would feel so wrong, but such a find would be glorious — so glorious. It would almost remove any guilt she would feel. Maybe they could even drink his stupid cucumber wine beforehand. Joey would get his fun and adventure, and she would get her coffee.
She crinkled her nose and glared at the dust covering the light fitting.
That was if she could stand to be in his presence, anyway. The childish git. There had been a point in her life where she had loved that about him: his childishness and his carefree attitude. Long ago she had wished she could be like that and for a time his attitude had rubbed off on her. But now? Now his attitude was infuriating. Or maybe she still wanted to be like him and it was actually that desire that was infuriating.
Squeezing her eyes closed, she rolled back onto her belly and groaned.
That was an awful thought. She didn’t like that, not one bit.
Helloooo! It's Day Whatever of a sudden onset of Writing Madness -- a NaNoWriMo-inspired challenge that uses the daily #freewrite prompt to help create a full story as quickly as possible.
@mariannewest has issued several prompts since I temporarily stopped writing, and I've kept note of every one of them and will be including them as I go. I'll be trying to do two prompts per chapter.
In today's writing is the prompt: quality coffee.
Today, I mostly just wanted to finish off what I had started in the last part I shared. In that part Joey finally told Jenny just what he thought of her and her "adultness", called her a Jennifer instead of a Jenny, and in a great huff she left his room and barged into her own.
As a result, today's writing is fairly short but finishes my train of thought. 🙂 It's all a mish-mash and could be better written, but it's out of my head and I can get onto the next part! Woo!
If interested, I babbled a bit about this story a few days ago. Just if you were curious to see my upcoming plans! 😊
This is a very rough first draft of an upcoming book and will be tidied up and polished after this Writing Madness is finished. 😊 It might read like fast-paced-rushed-word-garbage at the moment, but it will be refined! (I over-edit like a madwoman.)
Title is a placeholder and will probably not be the final name of the book. 🤣 This story has nothing much to do with whistling but the local pub is called the Whistling Fart, things will go down there, and there will likely be a terrible amount of fart jokes. Because I'm uncultured and farts are funny. 🤷♀
Today's wordcount is 625
Total wordcount is 29,240
📝 A Quick Blurb 📚
Genre: immature adult comedy, reverse coming-of-age, apocalyptic silliness
Warning: irreverent, offensive humour
Jenny is a young lady in her mid-20's who finds herself out of work, out of home, and out of luck. An old friend from school has invited her to stay at his house until she gets back on her feet, but she just can't seem to land on them.
Every job opportunity she finds goes spectacularly wrong. The Great Fungus is spreading across the world and consuming all in its path. Then, to top it off, a solar flare renders electricity a thing of the past.
Faced with the end of the world as she knows it, Jenny has a choice. Will she embrace this apocalyptic madness... or will she, too, be consumed by the fungus?
Thank you for reading! 📚😊
See you next time! 📝🤓