I’m assuming this is a bin, the type we find behind supermarkets where they throw the just out of date foods. This has my juices flowing to be honest and I can’t wait to write my piece and I can only do this because of the wonderful Rochelle who’s holding all this stuff together.
I’d also like to thank Rowena Curtin for the photo, and at the risk of telling an awful joke i might say its about time you pull your self together (no offence meant). So with this in mind i’d better stop digging my hole…
On My Marks…
Get Set…
GO!!!

They tumbled out of “Manhattans” kissing and slobbering all over eachothers faces, their lips and cheeks glistening with alcohol viscous sputum.
Grappling with eachother’s zips and buttons they stumbled into the snicket behind Farmfoods, throwing their coats onto the floor they tripped to the icy concrete behind the bins.
The rancid stench of the acrid vegetable juice puddle permeated their half discarded clothes as they passed out in a fug of happy hour shots and haplessly thrown together cocktails.
Only the morning came to; the winter sun low in the crystal blue sky, frost razor sharp on the bin edge.
And here we are, 100 words on the dangers of trying to have sex next to the bins after a night or revelry. Don’t do it kids! Enjoy.
I think I definitely won’t try to have sex behind supermarket bins. It really sounds most unpleasant
LikeLike
Too much sauce for those juicers. A fun tale.
LikeLike
I’ll definitely give that a miss, I’d hate to get my clothes dirty!
Here’s mine!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dear Shrawley,
And ice-cold hangovers all around. Eeeew. The smell was getting to me. 😉
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
I guess you’d have to be pretty drunk to choose such miserable surrounding for a moment of. . .uh. . .romance?
Ick. Not me!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me neither, I’m far to used to the home comforts these days. I worked on the bins for a while and always came home smelling of the same generic smell, vegetable silage juice!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Blimey. I never knew this went on behind Farmfoods! I’m shocked!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is loosely based on a mate of mine at Uni nearly 30 years ago, the horror!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I could smell the odors from your very well constructed words.
I wonder about over drinkers. How can that be fun? Be well … Be Safe
Isadora 😎
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Isadora (lovely name) I was hoping to convey the two protagonists had frozen to death after their dalliance by the bins.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not being a drinker, it was difficult for me to relate. I didn’t realize they died. But, being a neat person (not neat-freak) the unfolding descriptions for the story were compelling. Thanks: glad you like my name. Be well … Be Safe
Isadora 😎
LikeLiked by 1 person
I tried to intimate they died by saying only the morning came to ( means waking up) it’s tough with so few words!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
YUP … I get it now. It sure is tough to shorten a message we want to convey in 100 words. But, we get better as time goes on. Now, I’m finding it difficult to write longer short stories … go figure. LOL
LikeLiked by 1 person
i guess if you’re desperate any place will do. 🙂
LikeLike
I can see a very sordid end if they die after passing out cold (really cold)
LikeLike
Vivid sensory experience every step of the way, Shrawl. What a way to go.
LikeLike
I thought this was a masterful description of a ‘great’ night out and a terrible morning after. Well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well thank you, high praise from you Sandra. Cheers
LikeLike