WIP: A Little Bit

Can I just say - I'm not all that inspired to write anything today?

It's rainy out, gloomy, cold and I have been hiding inside watching videos online while resolutely avoiding work of any kind/form.


As it is work in progress week I will add a few poems, and a little snippet of the latest workings on. Leave a comment with anything you're working at this week.

“Erik, this is stupid, why do I even have to be here?”

“You’re the owner – the whole benefit is for you.”

“Great,” I muttered under my breath.

He opened the door to the ballroom and I had to stop for a moment. The whole place looked like a swanked night club. I went in and was soon swallowed by the higher end of society. 

Rich socialites and bachelors were breathing down my neck, offering me their word of support.  A few offered me drinks. I looked over at the bartender and was relieved to find Tom there. Each glass that came my way would be perfectly 100% alcohol proof.

Thank you, Tom!

The night went on. I danced with a few billionaires, forcing myself to be nice and participate in their almost drunken behavior.

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”

I looked up at the stage. The DJ cut the music and there was an MC there, looking about as steady as a sailor on dry-land. I watched with mingled curiosity as the assembled crowd grew quiet. Erik sidled up to me. I gave him an equally curious look, and then felt worried when I saw him grin.

This, can’t be anything good.

“As you all know, this benefit is to help support the Destler theatre. So far, through your generous donations, we’ve managed to raise that bar a little higher.”

There was polite applause.

“Erik,” I whispered, “what the heck –”

“And now, for the highlight of the night,” I turned back to the MC. “Gentlemen, open your wallets and bid generously. It’s time for the auction!”

There were hearty cheers around the room.

Auction?

“Our first lady is one the move affluent models in the city –”

I tuned the MC out and fully focused on the musician.

“Erik, you never said a word about an auction for women!”

My voice was low, whispered, hardly heard above the din of bids ringing above my head. I was furious and was almost positive he knew it.

“It’s just an auction for a date, nothing illegal about it.”

I glared back; I opened my mouth to protest when the MC shouted.

What are you working on lately?