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    Ligeia’s Poet: Insomnia

    Story written on September 25, 2007 by helebette.
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    2 votes, average: 1.50 out of 52 votes, average: 1.50 out of 52 votes, average: 1.50 out of 52 votes, average: 1.50 out of 52 votes, average: 1.50 out of 5 (2 votes, average: 1.50 out of 5)
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    Number of Comments: 8
    Words: 2324
    Story Shortlink: https://lesfan.com/?p=66979
    Author Notes:

    shane is a bad influence on alice and helena; bette worries about her codependent lesbian tendancies

    You gotta keep your shit together
    With your feet on the ground
    There ain’t no one gonna listen
    If you haven’t made a sound
    You’re an acid junkie college flunky dirty puppy dead-end bastard…

     

     

     

    Bette arrived at Helena’s house with her car fully packed.  She rummaged through her briefcase before getting out of the car, searching for her cell phone.  Messages from Tina, Phyllis, and some pain in the ass right-wing fascist potential funder were put into the ‘saved but I’m really just ignoring you’ category.

     

    Bette’s heels clicked on the limestone driveway as she walked up the front walk. Some kind of environmentally friendly design, the driveway was pretty in its own strange way.  As she looked up at Helena’s rented home, she was struck again by their closeness to the ocean. Helena had never maintained a mortgage, had always rented, moving from home to home, yet somehow, she almost always found herself by the sea again.  Perhaps it was fitting to the journey-woman within. Bette smiled, thinking of the balance inherent to their relationship—Bette sought the home that Helena sometimes neglected, while Helena reminded Bette to let go, to take to the road from time to time.

     

    They were set to leave for Arizona the next day to visit with an old friend of the Peabody’s. When Bette walked into Helena’s living room, plans changed.

     

    “oh my dear god, Alice…what have you done?” Alice was immediately blamed, in order to keep Helena free from it—for now.

     

    Bette paused. She looked at Helena, then at Alice, then back at Helena.

     

    “What did you give my girlfriend?”

     

    Her tone was quiet and dangerous.

     

    “ALICE!”

     

    “Shhhhhhhh!” Shane snuck up behind Bette, grabbing her around the waist to calm her hysterics. “Don’t yell at them when they’re like that.”

     

    Helena sat on the couch, staring at Bette.  Her index finger drew the fuzzy outline of Bette’s head; her eyes took in the explosion of lights and zig zagging colours behind Bette’s silhouetted figure.  Alice, meanwhile, swam the English Channel, in the midst of the woods of California, on the living room floor. What Bette saw was obviously a drug binge of the highest caliber. Two giant bags of weed sat in plain view (definitely Alice and Shane’s, since Helena hated how pot put her to sleep) in blatant disrespect of the president and all things holy and American. Not that Bette cared—she kinda wanted some—but the hallucinogenics actually worried her.

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    Comments

    1. I admit to having done a few drugs for the experience. LSD was interesting, but not enough to produce volcanos in my dorm room I’m glad to say. It was a single, just no room for a volcano. Mushrooms were a lot of fun, buying them was interesting. That would be because the hillbilly/hippie dealer kept a rifle on the coffee table the whole time as a way to suggest that none of us narc him out. We didn’t. But that was all long ago and it’s even been a while since I had a toke. My bong must be lonely. But hb, your stories sparkle like rocks. Or maybe the just rock. Did I tell you that I wanted to name our dog Sparkle when I was a kid? Have I sounded kind of stoned throughout this comment despite the lack of drugs?

    3. Volcanoes in the room… that actually made me laugh. Poor uptight Bette, she should have had a quick puff or six, might have stopped her worrying about worrying for a bit. So, road trip? I’ll be looking forward to that. Bring on chapter… 16! Thanks hb

    4. I don’t know about Helena, but I like a woman who worries about me…makes me feel important…volcanoes in the corner? Oh…it’s too early to laugh like this in Ohio…ROAD TRIP!!!! Can’t wait for that…pps

    5. So Bette was sparkling like rocks, huh ? Was that supposed to be a compliment ? LMAO !!!… For some reason, I’m not sure… Hehehe !!! My, my, this chapter is bloody HILARIOUS, Hb !!! Really, it’s hysterical ! Loved it !!! You never cease to amaze me, Hb. I mean, even from you, this was unexpected. I really enjoy this sense of “freedom” in your writing. Great job !! Quel talent ! Merci beaucoup, ma chère.

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