A descriptive language thing for LOGOS class.
“I had a great time, Jane,” John whispered as he slowly took a step closer to me.
It was then that it hit me. That putrid odor I had dismissed in the car was coming from him, or more precisely, his mouth, which, I nearly gagged as I noted, was moving closer to me at an alarming rate. Hot breath washed over my face, crawling over my skin and tickling my nose. The stench seemed to cloud around my face, an invisible villain attacking my senses. It took all the strength and determination not to faint from the noxious gas that would make a decomposing corpse smell like roses.
My mind raced. What should I do? What should I say?
What the heck did he eat? On second thought, I didn’t want to know the answer to that last question.
Thankfully, just as I was about to be smothered to death by his horrid breath, the swinging open of a door and a gruff voice broke through the malodorous haze fogging my mind.
“Jane, it’s past curfew. You should be inside by now.”
Oh, how heavenly that sounded at the moment-- not that I would ever tell my father that.
“Hey, Dad," tension elongated every syllable. I quickly stepped as far away from John as possible, taking in a deep breath of wonderfully untainted oxygen in the process.
"I had a great time, John.” I awkwardly dodged his attempts at a hug and made my way to the door, sending my father a beatific grin as I past him in the doorway. My smile had nothing to do with the supposedly “great” time I had and everything to do with my new sense of appreciation for fresh air.