The pressure of his gaze weighs on me, like the compression of the machines in the dress factory. I switch on my face, but nothing I do can affect the outcome. He will chose me or he will reject me. I choke. In this bell jar, evacuated of love, it is hard to breathe. But at least, he might promise a bed for the night.
Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here
Neil MacDonald Author 
Might find pins and needles in that bed 😀
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Thanks, Tannille
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How helpless she sounds. You make me wonder how she became so. The ‘bell jar evacuated of love’ is a terrifying description of her life.
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Thanks, Penny
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Goodness there is so much going on here in such a tiny tale. Well done!
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
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Thanks so much, Susan
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Dear Neil,
Her desperation makes for a heartache. Nicely done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks so much, Rochelle
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Excellent tension in this piece, Neil.
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Thanks so much, Joshua
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The bell jar evacuated of love. I got stuck right there for a handful of seconds, considering the despair of living in that kind of situation. Cold, lonely. Excellent writing, as always.
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Thanks so much, Linda
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Wow, Neil. So much in so few words! There is a whole life story in this one!
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Thanks so much
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🙂
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A desperate situation, a lot to give up for a bed for the night. Great character sketch Neil.
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Thanks so much, Iain. This situation actually happens
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My heart aches for the situation she’s in. So very sad because it is far too true for far too many young ladies. Great story!
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Thanks so much
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The bell jar image made me think of Sylvia Plath… the same desperation, but different situation
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I may have been thinking of her at the time
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I’m sensing a sweat shop, and the hopelessness of trying to find a way out, real y brilliant stuff in so few words, All Hail!!
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Thanks so much
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Awful to have to sell your body for a night’s sleep – or some of the night at least.
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For a night’s sleep in a comfortable bed at any rate
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Who’ll be undoing his buttons tonight, I wonder?
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We may never know
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Even without details, I can’t help but feel for her. There’s enough implied to know she can choose between bad and worse.
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That is pretty much her choice, yes
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The price is high to be kept out of the cold. Brilliantly done, Neil.
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Thanks so much, Dale
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Powerful writing, Neil.
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Thanks so much, Jade
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You are welcome.
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I can feel her desperation, and also a sense of resignation.
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Quiet desperation, yes
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Her sense of desperation is palpable through your words. Well done Neil
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Thanks so much, Keith
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Such desperation in a few short lines. Well done.
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Thanks so much, Sandra
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i could sense the sweat shop environment and how she was lookingi for a way out – please the boss scenario. I liked your intense writing.
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Thanks so much, James
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Short and sharp as a pin. Great piece Neil. Tight emotion here
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Thanks so much, Laurie
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He is the boss. He may choose or decide to reject. He may provide a bed or may not. Whimsical or am I too docile?
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Thanks for reading
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Chilling and tragic that she’s prepared to put herself through the ordeal just to get a bed for the night. Well told tale, Neil
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Thanks so much, Lynn
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My pleasure
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A tight piece of drama here. Words enough!
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Thanks so much, Patrick
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She has no choice but to put on her smile and hope he chooses her. You gave great depth to this character and portrayed her desperation so well in only a few words. Brilliant!
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Thanks so much, Brenda
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Makes me think of Woody Allen’s Sleeper and cryogenic-type tubes. She sounds like a Naturalist’s sample specimen in a jar. But perhaps that is merely the way it feels,if by bar girl you mean a lady waiting to be “picked up” by a man in a bar. But with your penchant for science fiction scenarios, I want to take you more literally.
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I meant what you suspect – a woman waiting to be picked up in a bar for quasi-transactional sex
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Needing a place to rest her head at night and paying a very high price to be allowed to is a sad state of existence. I feel sorry for the women that submit to this transaction for it is so degrading. However, a girls got to do what a girls got to do!
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You’re right, Nan
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A sad, desperate state of affairs. I like the comparison between the pressure of his gaze and the compression of the machines in the dress factory.
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Thanks so much, Magarisa
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Incredibly sad.
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Thanks, Dawn
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