Bunnies
By Missy
RATING: PG-13 (Some depressing images and adult themes)
DISTRIBUTION: To Squeaky and FG so far; any other archives are welcome to ask, but disclaimers must be included, my email left intact. send a URL, and provide full disclaimers as well as credit me fully. Please inform me if you are going to submit my work to any sort of search engine. Â Please do not submit my work to a search engine that picks out random sets of words and uses them as key words, such as "Google"
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NOTES: I had this image in my head of how things might have gone for Laverne should she have become pregnant in California, all alone, after Shirley left with Walter. Watch out for that surprise ending...
CATEGORY: Drama?
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Laverne broods her way through a case of morning sickness.
****
She pulled the shade on another Monday morning, the sun piercing her eyes with miniature knives, making thought unbearable.
You said you'd take care of me. You said you'd always take care of me.
Children were skipping by the window, calling out to each other, their neat little lawn dresses pressed comfortably in creases; practicality combined neatly with an undeniable thirst.
Bunnies in a blender, She thought to herself; the idea amusing her beyond gloom and the heartless pain that plagued her.
Shirl had the right idea. Always be careful, stay in control, don't lose control of yourself.
But she had lost herself, in the most basic, elemental, primal way; the way millions of women have lost themselves in the course of a billion years of history. She'd always been sure of herself and what she was doing with herself, aware of what she was doing, breezily confident.
How long had it been since she had been that young and sweet? Centuries, maybe; what year had it been when she'd given it all up to be 'fun', to have 'fun'.
This isn't 'fun',
Oh, it wasn't that she was the only single woman in the world bearing this predicament; indeed, she was part of a new, fearless breed of women, bearing the wilds of life alone.
It's the loss of trust that hurt.
She could have married Lenny. At least he cared about her, loved her without condition, thought she was sexy even while she hung over a toilet bowl losing her dinner. But there was nothing between them of the romantic sort and there was no way she'd drag him into the mess she'd made of her life.
Ya swore it would work out. Ya knew exactly what to do; you'd done it enough times to be sure..
Thankfulness touched her soul when she reflected on her new job, her better salary; even if she lost her work in the space program, Cowboy Bills stood at the ready to take her in.
The picture was perfect, so close to complete.
But where's the love?
No boys hung around her door anymore, begging her for a morsel of attention, a date, a necking, a make-out session. She wasn't twenty any more.
Who's going to want me when I'm fat?
But she'd make it through, somehow. Her friends would see to that. And if it all didn't work out, she could follow Shirley's example and run away, dye her hair, change her name, and no one would know the difference.
Now, however, was the time to sleep.
You promised you'd take care of me, Fonz.
Like a bunny under the snow.
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