Dream Woman’s Revenge

A Story by james

I original wrote this story for my creative writing class and got much better reviews than expected. This is my first story here; figured I'd start with something not horrible. Thanks for reading.

Stocking produce is not the career Dwayne imagined he'd be doing at twenty-five. It falls short of a passion, but pays bills. On rare occasions, between stacking fruits and vegetables, he finds his job satisfactory. Today is an occasion.

From an aisle away, Dwayne saw her. The consummate concoction of paired X chromosomes. Her hair a silky luster, like those found in the deep reddish browns of a semi-precious Garnet. An invisible ionic bond generated by the blue of her eyes dissipates ability to show discretion with a stare. The only discernible feature of her lipstick is the neon shade... and it’s hot. Dwayne couldn’t place where it falls on a hexadecimal color chart.

He looks at her in a daze that makes neurons flare. Produce stocking makes for easy conceptualization, not to mention outright fantasy. In his mind’s augmented reality, he could see himself walk right up to her, confident, with purpose. Introducing himself; playing out what asking her to coffee would feel like. She’d have the kind of name you don’t hear everyday, Lillian or Agatha. She would returned a smile with teeth once bound by bracers, almost eager to accept.

Later, while having coffee, the conversation revolves around her. She tells him about how and where she grew up. They laugh to discover they went to competing high schools and only graduated a year apart. They discover common interest. His friends would never believe he gets to debate Kirk or Picard with a woman.

The second date will be her idea. “Let’s do this again sometime.” The sound of her voice was sultry; the kind that didn’t need a body to garner attention. He would introduce her to his parents. He’d meet hers. The relationship would progress.

She turned out to be articulate, educated, and well read. They discussed philosophy and were excited about technology. They’d lie together on a blanket beneath the stars and discuss the Fermi paradox until outside became uninhabitable because of the slow creeping cold. Moving indoors the discussion lightened and ended with a Monty Python flick.

It even gets physical. A thought he allocates a bit too much brain power. Dwayne resumes his ‘pomegranate box extraction’ duty to keep his fantasy in check.

These deep, moonlit discussions will lead to marriage. It would be her idea for a small wedding; a back yard affair with only close friends. Fine by Dwayne because he doesn’t have many friends.

This would lead to children. Wonderful well rounded children that he could teach the wonders of the universe. They will be the family so close they even watch the odd-numbered Star Trek movies together. Children brought the parents closer together. Physical autonomous products of their love that will some day fall in love themselves. Dwayne and his wife celebrate their success of parenthood by spending time visiting grandchildren. In a never ending, cyclical processes, grandchildren would be spoiled rotten.

At the end of their opulent careers, they get to visit all the sites he and his life companion talks about all those years; Europe, Asia, or down under. While Dwayne points out the Great Unconformity between sedimentary rocks of the Grand Canyon to his grandson; the woman, the real woman, from an aisle over interrupts his fantasy. No doubt she thought him a dullard, or worse, as his mouth hangs and a pomegranate splats on the floor.

“Hey,” her accent scrapes his brain, “Where are the apples?” It takes all his might to raise a scrawny arm just to point. This is not her. This is not the woman he coalesced a lifetime of memories with. Another tragic realization that pushes Dwayne deeper into his introversion.

It’s a harsh environment for a dream woman. Only to exist in the mind of a dweeb; where her only revenge is to be perfect.