Sarah felt the slow chill of ice seep through the cotton fabric of her dress. She looked down. “Shit, when will I stop spilling?” she thought to herself as she brushed the moisture away. This was supposed to be a girl’s night, time to find a man without John’s Jekyll and Hyde unpredictability. She would have fun- even if she had to cover the wine’s blood red stain with her purse all night to do it.
The singer beneath the club’s hot lights was swaying to the band’s beat. Everyone was dancing. You’re the assessor; stroking my hand... she recognised the tune immediately. It seems you have forgotten about your man....
Bodies writhed against each other to the music as she scanned the sweat beaded faces for her friends. She folded her dress over the stain, embarrassed to have ruined yet another ‘get over him’ purchase. And there he was. Smiling.
Hours later, Sarah was with John. She shouldn’t be here; he’d stood her up too many times. He held her arms, kissed her forehead. Didn’t she remember the hours spent crying? Promising to herself never to lay eyes on the asshole again? His lips moved up her neck before they finally met hers. He tasted like caramel.
She’d never even had a proper boyfriend before and since the days when he’d notice her walk by in her high-school skirt were long-gone and he’d never seen flowers at her doorstep or a ute in her driveway , John knew the score. Sarah tried to focus on the lyrics stuck in her head to calm her nerves.
“I want us to try again,” he whispered.
Alone in the darkness.... she sung in her head. Your bed’s a different land.
John’s hand sunk lower and her perfectly ordered, model-student world was about to change forever.
Sarah felt it smooth over her hips before he stopped. Right on the wine stain.
Your touch intensifies...
She let her mind recall the final words
And I’m in the quicksand...
After recieving advice on the piece from Marcus about Sarah's thought of the song's most pertinent line not ringing quite true I have decided to re-write the sample to improve my work. Marcus also said that I should be wary of cliched phrases like " hot lights" and "swaying to the beat". Below is my attempt to improve the piece:
Sarah felt the slow chill of wine seeping through her dress. " Shit, when will I stop spilling things?" she thought, brushing the moitsure away. She was going to have fun, she was going to dance and drink and smile and find a man without John's Jeckyll and Hyde unpredictability. She would have fun, she told herself. Even if she had to cover the blood-red stain all night to do it.
Everyone was dancing to a band she could barely see beyond the looming fog of cigarette smoke. You’re the assessor; stroking my hand... she recognised the tune immediately. It seems you have forgotten about your man....
Bodies bopped and writhed against each other to the music as she scanned the sweat beaded faces for her friends. She folded her dress over the stain, embarrassed to have ruined yet another ‘get over him’ purchase. And there he was. Smiling.
Alone in the darkness.... the band continued. Your bed's a different land...
Hours later, Sarah was with John. She shouldn’t be here; he’d stood her up too many times. He held her arms, kissed her forehead. Didn’t she remember the hours spent crying? Promising to herself never to lay eyes on the asshole again? His lips moved up her neck before they finally met hers. He tasted like caramel.
She’d never even had a proper boyfriend before and since the days when he’d notice her walk by in her high-school skirt were long-gone and he’d never seen flowers at her doorstep or a ute in her driveway , John knew the score.
“I want us to try again,” he whispered.
John’s hand sunk lower and her perfectly ordered, model-student world was about to change forever.
Sarah felt it smooth over her hips before he stopped. Right on the wine stain.
Your touch intensifies.... and I'm in the quicksand.
