Anne, Pillow Talk

Pillow Talk – Episode One

Disclaimer: This story is based on fact. Any similarity with fictitious events or characters is purely coincidental and/or deliberate (although the author may feign outrage over the latter and call it ‘creativity’ or ‘divine inspiration’ if backed into a corner). The Featured image above was “borrowed” from the internets, and is from the 1959 film ‘Pillow Talk’ starring Rock Hudson and Doris Day. The film’s name is being used as this story’s title, because some don’t know it, and most don’t care. Any or all characters in this work are also suspiciously unknown to the author, so are their Twitter handles, obsolete LinkedIn profiles, and current Facebook relationship statuses.

*

Her: You know what would be perfect? A month long writing retreat far up in some kind of mountainous region. I know of a writer doing one right now. Think how beautiful that would be, just snow capped mountains all around, a small cozy cabin above a valley, not another soul in sight, clean air, comfort food, an overstuffed chair by the window, coffee, a laptop… Yes. A writing retreat is just what I need.

Him: Hmm

Her: Hmm? Just hmm for a snow-capped-mountains-small-cozy-cabin-above-valley-not-another-soul-in-sight writing rereat?

Him: I’m reading, I thought you were writing. But okay, you should do one.

Her: Wow, too quick. You just want me gone.

Him: That’s not the point.

Her: True. The point, is one month of peace, and one full story.

Him: You think you can do that?

Her: You lack confidence in my solitary capabilities, obviously.

Him: When would you go? Summer? Spring?

Her: And, autumn, and winter.

Him: So, a year long retreat.

Her: No. One month in each season. It could equal to four separate drafts, so that might work out well.

Him (sighs): Four separate months of peace… for you, of course. You should go.

Her: I feel like you’re already helping me pack my bags.

Him: No one can help you pack bags, no one can even offer to help you pack bags. But, that’s not the point.

Her: Yes, the point is you want to live without me. If you were another kind of husband, you would never want me gone.

Him: Except to get groceries.

Her: Speaking of groceries, I would need to go shopping before my retreat. The weather would be different there, I’d need coats and whatever else cold climate people use. And, boots. Yes, some new pairs of boots.

Him: You mean one pair of boots from your I-have-far-too-many-boots collection.

Her: No. I’d need hiking boots, and one go-into-town boots, an Oh-my-God-these-heels-are-so-gorgeous boots, of course the don’t-these-boots-make-my-legs-look-good boots, and then, some soft lounging boo…

Him: I’ll give you a hundred bucks to stop talking right now.

Her: That wouldn’t even buy me an inch of a boot heel.

Him: Look what just appeared on my screen out of nowehere. Online air travel bookings. We should take advantage of that. When do you want to go, and also, where?

Her: Hmm mountains, mountains. Switzerland. So cliched, but its also perfect. Let me Google some pictures for you… See? Beautiful, panoramic, absolu…

Him: Because, there is not a single mountain available within our own borders? Not even a mole hill?

Her: I like to think big.

Him: If you mean ‘height,’ then let me enlighten you about some of our mountains which rank quite high on a global scale.

Her: I didn’t mean big in that sense, I meant, I like to think beyond. – Beyond borders, beyond the confines, beyond what is right here, beyond…

Him: Available budgets, and my bank balance.

Her: If I’m ever famous, you don’t get to share my fame.

Him: So, you write for fame.

Her: Of course not. It’s the money. It’s always the money. I’ll use it to turn you into a kept man.

Him: You write for money.

Her: Of course not. Writing matters to the heart. Fame, money, that’s just icing on the cake.

Him: How far up in the alps would you like to bake your cake?

Her: As far up as Heidi.

Him: How soon?

Her: So, you can count the days to my departure?

Him: I have an app to do that. But again, not the point.

Her: What about my goldfish? Unlike you, they would miss me.

Him: When did your tarantulas turn into goldfish?

Her: Last week when they dropped creepiness, and began gaping open-mouthed at everything I said.

Him: You promised me their next mutation would be horsey.

Her: There’s time for that. They’re getting leggy though, so it might be sooner than later.

Him: Good. I can already picture them galloping away from the fold, and my fridge.

Her: I thought they’d go when they mutated into bat-like birds and their wings grew strong enough.

Him: Wings are overrated. Besides, with wings they can circle and swoop back down without you knowing it. If horses turn and gallop back, you’ll hear them coming. Then you run.

Her: I’ll up their calcium. No, you’ll need to do it. I’ll be gone for a month.

Him: Four. Four different months. Let’s stick to the plan.

Her: Which include boots.

Him: I didn’t hear that.

Her: Then, no gifts for you from Switzerland.

Him: I’m fine with that, as long as the end result is me being a kept man.

Her: Hey, look at this gorgeous picture. Beaches in the Canary Islands are so pretty. A writing retreat there wouldn’t be a bad idea either come to think of it. And, before you argue that we have a beach only ten minutes from our house, just know that I am talking talcum powder beaches. White sand beaches are meant for writing retreats, not sun worshipping retirees or newlyweds. I can just picture it… the waves all ripply and not crashing on my private beach, not another soul in sight, my laptop, and my rum cocktails. I’d also have a really comfy recliner, and one of those huge beach umbrella things in bright yellow, because you know Canary Islands, and there would be palm trees rustling somewhere behind me while my white Labrador runs and rolls in the talcum….

Him: Please stop talking.

~*~

©Anne J. Dias – 2014
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24 thoughts on “Pillow Talk – Episode One”

  1. Loved this pillow talk. How the topic just jumps from one to another. How when the partner accepts what one wants, one makes it seem as if they are not wanted by that acceptance. How funny we are when things go our way but we want to think Oh! you don’t want me then!

    Just amazing!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. hello!
    yes! i love this couple! so subtle,so bitter,so ironic,so real! i love them! and the theme,writing,o ho,with the sting there and here,about what is the motivation for a writer,money,pleasure to write.and him,just like an English Lord,so laconic but so poignant with his answers.and i like the Theory of Evolution,from a gold fish to a horse,more like an unicorn,a story,a legend,brutally dismantled by reality-the cost of real life,the groceries…i love it! a nonsense talk between two smart people! thank you!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Disclaimer : My utmost respect for the creative references used here, they are both engaging, stimulating and very enthralling. The movie was long forgotten probably a bit too dated but I assure you , the picture painted the sentiments perfectly. My faith lies with the author and all the fictional characters are but most definitely at the mercy an expert Hand.

    I appreciate the sentiments of “Her” especially in regards to thinking “big”. A writing retreat for every seasons sounds about right. Enough time to get the naked Kept boys to relax those writer nerves.

    But “Him” is awesome , he has given “her” enough material to work out her next writing piece. “Him” needs a cheer leading group on DW and a fanClub.

    Might I add, London bridge with it’s Buckingham Palace might be a good inspiration too.

    I feel cheated though, Writer should have added on the disclaimer that this post would bring a permanent smile on the faces and make you go all “aw””.

    Blesses and love for “him” and “her”. Hugssssssss to the Writer and thanks for the the disclaimer.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Any man who brushes aside Boots/ Shoes woes as nothing is doubtful in my books and should be treated to a full day special at the local BDSM center administered by an enraged, bitter, hairy, molested ,male ex- Hell’s Angel.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Any or all characters in this work are also suspiciously unknown to the author, so are their Twitter handles, obsolete LinkedIn profiles, and current Facebook relationship statuses

    Ahem the disclaimer itself made me smile.

    The pillow talk movie I haven’t seen but this pillow talk post was amazing. Hilarious n refreshing.

    Him (sighs): Four separate months of peace… for you, of course.

    We know whats coming in place of those dots n she too but so sweet of her she ignored it so much into her dreamland she was.
    Boots ahan I so love this couple .
    No way the things once shopped became too old doesn’t this “Him” knows it. This is called ladies best law for shopping.

    Her: No. I’d need hiking boots, and one go-into-town boots, an Oh-my-God-these-heels-are-so-gorgeous boots, of course the don’t-these-boots-make-my-legs-look-good boots, and then, some soft lounging boo…

    Him: I’ll give you a hundred bucks to stop talking right now.

    Her: That wouldn’t even buy me an inch of a boot heel.

    Him: Look what just appeared on my screen out of nowehere. Online air travel bookings. We should take advantage of that. When do you want to go, and also, where?

    Agood excuse to change the topic
    Her: I didn’t mean big in that sense, I meant, I like to think beyond. – Beyond borders, beyond the confines, beyond what is right here, beyond…

    Him: Available budgets, and my bank balance.

    ROFL This is so hilarious.
    Hahaha loved it n enjoyed it thoroughly Anne u r too good
    Hugs n kisses for u :*

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I applaud Him on his dexterity with the conversation turn arounds, extremely diplomatic with his words. But in the end he gives up keeping pace with her. She is like quicksilver, flitting from one thought to the other…..is the ‘inspiration’ by any chance from your life Anne? If it is, then thats a pretty extended pillow talk. We poor mortals fall asleep almost instantly!

    Like

  7. How dare he? Shoes/boots are irrelevant is what he’s implying. Can a girl ever have enough? He must be taught a lesson.
    Go girl. Definitely go. For 30 days every season. That’s 120 days out of the 365 you spend feeding, watering and airing out him and the tarantulas.
    And what are budgets and bank balances in comparison with a wife’s dear wish to go away to a writing retreat?
    Although I’m more inclined toward the beach and the rum cocktail. Doesn’t the Canary Islands have these hunks who massage tired writers’ ermm…hands? (What? The fingers hurt with all that typing okay?!)

    Like

  8. I would say that was one true realistic couple talk – loved it anne – good to know that there’s more coming up
    sorry iam late

    Like

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