Acrostic: Pole Dancer – An Acrostic Short Story
POLE DANCER
... (Acrostic story)
Pouting and late for work that evening, Missy Brilliant Star adjusted her makeup in the car. Responding to a hateful honk, although usually she'd honk in return to make her day, tonight our Missy Star gave a little one finger wave instead.
One finger waving she had learned from her uncle. The one who taught her to dance. He taught her to dance as if she were entwined around a pole. She had a make believe fireman's practice pole left over from when her brother was a youngster.
Lighting on the stage seemed unusually bad than night. The spots had long lost their color, the dimmer was stuck in the on position, and half the bulbs didn't light. Nevertheless Missy Star would go on. Go on just the two, she and the bitch in the little red skirt.
Everyone loved the little red skirt. Missy Star always called it a dress; to do otherwise might go the red b's head. Now Miss B did have a name to her acclaim though Missy Star never did use that. Miss B could do the contortions, bump and grind, real fine. But when it came to the pole, Missy Star was the queen.
Dance tonight she would do her best. Her best with the lingering pout. Not even the b in red could do her in tonight. For it had been rumored that a very special guest was to arrive around ten.
Around half past seven Missy Star became a little queasy in the gills. What was a gill she wasn't quite sure but people always said they would turn green with nerves. O dear!
Nervous she was. What if Mr. Wonderful didn't show? Worse yet, what if he didn't recognize her. Or, Heaven forbid, he could like the b in red. It mattered not that he was worth thousands and tipped like a trooper.
Calm down now, she told herself. We can't have the b in red finding out just how shaky she was. This had never happened before, those feelings she was having. It might have been her apoplexies for all she knew. She did know she felt as if she was turning green beneath her skirt.
Everyone hushed, the lights turned upon the door. Even the b in red had stopped her undulations, her eyes following the light. Through the door walked the most handsome man on earth. He was tall. He was dark. Missy Star could see his eyes in the light, they were blue, a bright blue!
Right to Missy Star he walked. His head moved with the motion of her small lithe body doing her dance. It dipped and hopped when she dipped and hopped doing her leaps. On to the pole she went, enticingly as was her usual. To him she was the Queen! He moved closer to the stage and watched. Up, up, and around, and around. She had beautiful long legs thrusting from her shapely body. Oh, O, O, . . .
Copyright © 2009 Jimmiehov
All Rights Reserved
Labels: Acrostics Only, Poem, prose poem, Story
posted by Jim @ 12/18/2009 12:00:00 PM
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