Sexy Dreams by Aimee Friedland

I'm walking with Charlize Theron at an International Film Festival in Cape Town.

¡°I'm so glad to be back home,¡± she says, ¡°it seems like no one understands my accent wherever else I go.¡±

I understand.

She grabs me by the hand.

¡°I read your LiveJournal,¡± she continues, hushed.

Oh.

¡°I thought, maybe I could be the one to show you what it¡¯s like with a girl.¡±

Oh¡I¡

¡°I have some time before I have to go on stage. I know a place¡¡±

Ok.

Suddenly I feel my body pressed against hers, hands flickering each way, she kisses my lips I kiss hers.

I open my eyes and we are in a small, wooden confessional box. Charlize has transformed into a middle-aged man with coke-bottle glasses, a grey five o¡¯clock shadow, and messy hair.

I give him a long, passionate kiss goodbye, and I discretely exit the box and go off to find Cyril.

*

I wake up at 10.53 AM in an empty apartment with the computer on. I look out the window and there is fresh snow. I write.

Currently 5.67/10
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Rating: 5.7 out of 3 votes cast