The Wednesday Girl

[kelby_lake]

Richard had a girl for every day of the week, even Sunday. It was ridiculous, I knew, but he could reduce perfectly sensible women to degraded fools.

I was his Wednesday girl- a sort of mid-week escape. I desperately wished I was Friday, a careless passionate embrace, but I wasn't.

He visited Lindy on Mondays. She was what you would politely call a larger woman; I myself would call her a collection of blobs, the one representing her face decorated with garish make-up. Richard had picked her up at a bar one Friday night and after an ill-advised one-night-stand he wasn't able to shake her off and she had attached herself to him ever since. Therefore I was not too jealous of her- she was essentially cold labour.

Tuesday was Sarah's time with him. He preferred Sarah to Lindy- in fact anything after Lindy was a relief. Her appearance was not particularly remarkable but there was something so small that it shouldn't have bugged me, yet it did: they both loved playing card games. He could just spend a whole day with her playing card games and not get bored. I can't play card games, not with him.

Thursday was Jen, an exotic beauty. One thing about her annoyed me, apart from her beauty- she never seemed to love him. We all did, except maybe Cass who at least enjoyed him, but Jen seemed uninterested.
Friday was Cass, and she worried me the most. The Saturday and Sunday girls were either a random pick between us week-girls or anyone Richard could pick up. It wasn't hard for him to find prospects.
Cass exuded confidance and glamour. She was 'a moving party', Richard ineloquently explained one Wednesday as we sat on the sofa, drinking cheap wine. I felt the acid in my mouth- what cheap wine!

I was Wednesday. Whenever he came to see me, he was stuck between two moods- one determined to love me, the other lethargic from the first half of the week. This was not the best day for me, but I would have settled for any day, because I had to. I had to know that he loved me- which he insisted even up until his death- because then I could survive the other six days, which were cold hell.

Why was I so stupid? I knew he was a player- he told me definitely 'This is the way I shall always be. A girl each night. No commitments'
He must have meant emotional ones. I was his Wednesday girl but I was also his wife.

[AuntShecky]

Very interesting premise. Have you ever heard the song,"Sunday Kind of Love"? It was a big hit for Etta James, but the song is much older than the era in which Etta's career was at its peak.

Your story needs a little fleshing out. By that I mean the various "days of the week" and the respective women assigned to them could use a more dramatic treatment, rather than merely stating who each gal is and what she looks like. Also, rather than
giving those characters names, why not have the narrator refer to them only by the day of the week. For instance, "Thursday" rather than "Thursday was Jen." It would seem that Richard himself would probably refer to them in that way, and incidentally, he must have unlimited funds to spend every night of the week in pursuit of romance.

The surprise ending is just that. We don't really see how his philandering really affects the narrator/wife emotionally. There could be a subtle clue somewhere as to why she chooses to stay in such a destructive relationship.

I think this piece is a good try, however, and I would encourage you to keep writing. Don't forget to read a copious amount of modern short stories (those written by published authors rather than by amateurs such as I); also read books, articles, and free Internet postings about the craft of writing.

Again, this effort is better than many I've seen in the "Short Story Sharing" forum. I hope that you get more replies and and that the responses contain information that will
help you.

Auntie

[Captain Pike]

I guess I haven't read you before now. You joined here almost a year ago and you've been pretty busy. This piece you've just written here bothered me. Bothered me good, I mean. Could it be that I envy a jerk?

I have known men like this (maybe not too secretly admired them) and haven't liked them much. They're the lone gunslinger, somehow able to guard their feelings; preventing a slippery slide down the slope to love. I guess I am still unsure whether they really exist. Maybe they're just good at hiding their feelings, and sneak around to try to convince themselves they are somehow above monogamy.

Anyway, I think you have the start of something that could be great here. It could appeal to both genders. Please post some more._P.