Another Thursday scene write:
This one was from an assignment in class in which we were to describe a very specific setting and then add in a single person.

LIGHT

A single florescent bulb glared down onto the stained concrete of the back parking lot. The once white lines of the six parking spots were worn out, nearly unseen. There was a crow picking at the regurgitated remains of someone’s lunch as the single light flickered in and out, in and out. The needle pricks of light that strained through the churning, purple sky were the only hints of nature in the cement wasteland. There were black gum stains half way up the dirty walls of the building in front of the lot. Sheets of barely legible paper covered one another, each advertising something else, each ripped and shredded from years of existence. Sitting on the filthy, decrepit pavement was an immaculate woman. She was dressed in a carnation red strapless dress, bedecked in tulle and lace. Her dress rested half way down her shins as she sat, back against the reproachful wall, eyes closed, feet together and in front of her. Encasing her feet were black patent leather kitten heels, which shone, in the fractured light emitting from the lone bulb. Her professionally made up hair was squashed unceremoniously against the dank background.

Besides the crows’ relentless picking at the vomit lying mere feet away from the red woman, the only other movement was the unknown woman’s head, rolling left and rolling right, pushing hard against the concrete wall. Her lips too were moving, but unlike the slow motion of her head, they were rapid. Soft, raspy whispers occasionally escaped her flying lips, as her finger nails clawed terribly into the sidewalk.

Love from Pullman,

The Blonde and the Bullshit