Here is a story I've written. It was supposed to be a parody of Ernest Hemmingway, and I copied his style, but I got pretty wrapped up in writing an original story. My parents and my teacher really liked the story. I hope you will too. Homer was what one could call a transitional man. He would sleep with women whose husbands or boyfriends were away at war or on business trips. He felt no shame in doing it. He believed that any man who went away should be deceived by his woman anyway. Homer knew he was a good-looking Italian-American. He looked young for his age of forty-three. Hell, he’d been drafted into WWI when he was only a lad of eighteen. Homer learned not to trust girls during wartime. He had been cheated on by his girlfriend at home during WWI. The other girlfriends after the war had not been faithful either. Homer was a ‘true to God’ vet and proud of it too. He was proud to be part of the US allied forces since the Italian land that he loved was part of the forces too. During the war, a bullet had zoomed right past him but had lodged into the head of his best friend Roberto. He died immediately after the bullet impacted. Homer couldn’t deal with the war after this moment, no longer caring whether he lived or died. This spark of insanity served him well on the field. Homer was considered a hero for performing missions other soldiers wouldn’t dare to do. One would think he was the most courageous soldier in the surrounding trenches, but in truth, he was just the most suicidal. Homer could not deal with the insanity anymore. He decided it was necessary to stay home if another war would arise. He converted to Quakerism a few years after he returned from WWI. This month of January in 1942 was strange. The days were warm but the nights were bitter cold. Homer felt good to smell American air, instead of being miserably crunched in some tight space in some tight situation in this tight war. He was glad that he plotted his conversion in order to be exempt from joining this war. He liked calling himself a Quaker even though he didn’t ever follow their beliefs. Homer liked to go to Central Park during these unusually warm days. Not only did he like to run but he could meet gals there as well. Time slowed down during Homer’s run one particular Sunday afternoon. He noticed a drop-dead gorgeous gal sitting on a bench. Her eyes looked like oceans of despair. Homer purposely went out of his way and stopped near the bench and stretched. “Beautiful day isn’t it?” Homer exclaimed. “Sure it is.” The gal sighed sadly. “Whatsa matter?” Homer asked. He sat down next to the gal. “Well, my husband, a navy officer, recently went away to Europe to fight in the war.” She looked up at him with helpless but mesmerizing eyes. She asked, “How come you aren’t going to Europe?” “Oh I’m not one that’s meant for fighting.” He said with a fake peaceful tone. “You see, I am a Quaker.” “Well don’t you have some sort of religious service today?” she retorted Homer did not care about her sarcastic tone. He thought the fact that she and other women who used subtle negatives in their tone to express their thoughts was just stupid. Besides the art of womanizing, Homer had also mastered the art of lying. Homer moved closer to the gal and said, “You see, Quakers are allowed an hour break between services. I choose to take my break by walking or running in the park.” “Oh” The woman mumbled. Usually Homer would take the conversation more slowly at this point to lure the gals into doing what he wanted that night. Homer instead wanted to test the gal this time. He wanted to see how willing a woman could be. He knew she probably wouldn’t go for it. It didn’t matter. He could pick up any gal he wanted. “I know you are feeling very lonely right now. I can fix this. Come on and spend the night with me and I’ll make your passionate fantasies come true.” The woman looked up at him. Homer thought, “Hah! That was so cheesy! I’ve gone too far this time! Get ready for the smack in the face!” “I….uh…alright.” The woman hesitantly said. Homer was surprised. This woman must have really been desperate. He thought that this situation was too easy and that he’d better be careful with this gal. The warmth of Bobby’s Pub next to his cheap New York City hotel settled upon Homer’s skin as they arrived. Homer usually ordered whiskey but he ordered something different this time to celebrate a different kind of girl. Homer already had had a drink of vodka by the time the woman had come into the pub. She wore a short dress and plenty of makeup. She looked concerned and a bit troubled in her expression and her eyes did not change when she saw him. She sat down next to him quietly and said nothing. He ordered her a glass of vodka. The talk was unusual this time with this gal. Homer would usually spend much of the night sweet talking the girls he picked up. He was good at the art of sweet-talking, after perfecting it for years. However, this night he was on an informational mission. Homer asked, “Well, aren’t you going to say more than two words?” She said nothing. Homer asked, “Anything you want to talk about?” She said nothing. Homer said facetiously, “I heard your husband was shot yesterday.” He knew that she knew this was a lie. She said nothing. However, a peculiar and tiny smile formed upon her lips. She was trying to hold something back. He could determine that. Homer let out a disappointing sigh and started touching her legs. She giggled and her eyes cheered up. He knew she would talk now. He exclaimed “Ahah! Finally the gal speaks. What was with all the silence?” The girl sighed and after a minute said, “It was all a big act; I don’t really have a husband in the war. I just wanted to be with you and I knew that you were used to lonely women. Would you still stay with me tonight?” Homer thought for a minute and thought, what the hell. This is something different after all. “Sure. I’ll stay with you tonight.” “Great!” She now seemed more relaxed as she called the bartender and said, “I’ll have two vodka martinis.” Homer looked at this woman peculiarly and asked, “Hey, what is your name?” She giggled and said, “I’m not going to tell you anything. Just think of me as another one of your girls.” Homer sighed. He continued to pry for information but he never could get the advantage in this court, no matter what. He loved the mysterious nature though. The two enjoyed a few more drinks and Homer paid the tab. Then they went upstairs. Homer would imagine that this part of the night would be the best and the worst. He loved spending nights with his gals, but he would usually feel saddened from never experiencing ‘honest to God true love.’ He had probably slept with more women than one could ever dream of, but all of the nights had been artificial. Homer either had had one-night stands or unfaithful short-lasting relationships. Something always failed whenever he tried to establish a real relationship. But, he could not give up casual women. They were part of his life. This experience was different. He did not feel saddened this time. No. This time he really enjoyed it. He enjoyed it and he enjoyed her, that is, up to the next day when things dramatically changed. Homer woke up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He saw this girl dressed in a bathrobe, concealing a silenced pistol. It was aimed right at him. She said, “Homer Smith, or should I call you by your real name Antonio Benvenuto; you are under arrest for spying for the Italian government.” Goddamnit! Women can be so unfaithful on so many different levels whether it is personal or of national concern!
Great story i liked it too but maybe you could make the ending a bit longer after he wakes up ... and i guess that comes with experience when you write a lot but maybe you should make it more of a surprice she's lying about her husband and let her tell it the moring after so Homer really looks like a "player" who is so used to handling women that he doesn't notice she's lying and she's different. It's a great theme to write something about, well done