Orgins

She lived at the end of the row of squat stone houses. There were seven of them all told, hulking and sullen, tough as old wood. Dorothy was somewhere in the middle, but the largest of any of them, with a soft woman’s body that belied her tremendous physical strength.

She was fond of teasing him, picking him out of a knot of boys and physically overpowering him.

Once, when he’d called her bitch in her hearing,  she pulled down his pants and spanked his bare bottom in front of everyone.

The thought of her rock-hard hands stayed with him.

Friday Fictioneers

20 thoughts on “Orgins

  1. Dear Josh,

    I’m guessing your inspiration for this one came from the print in the book? I never bothered to read it. Nonetheless, it’s a good story. Dorothy sounds like quite the tour de force.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

          1. Maybe a fugue state of mind, but a random memory from many, many years ago- “… put your chin in your hand and say, ‘Ah, Bach…’.” “But what if she asks what type of music I like?” “Just say, ‘I’m partial to the fugue.’.”

  2. I’ve never read Henry James, did not know his penchant for killing off women in his stories. Looks as if I have a new path to follow.

    Good writing. Intriguing.

Don't just stand there.