The Blondes - short story Part one

[Bassim]

Please, would you proofread the first part of my short story

I was sitting in an almost empty cafe; bored with my lonely, meaningless life, thinking about if I am going to kill myself this week or wait a few more days to see if anything was going to change, when two blondes entered and sat at the table close to mine. They were in their twenties, dressed in very tight clothes and if this had been somewhere in Germany I would have thought that they were prostitutes who took a short break before returning to their rooms and their customers. Their long blond hair was pulled back into ponytails, revealing their beautiful faces, as if they belonged to the two dolls. They had some cheap hoop earrings in their ears, metal rings on their fingers and plastic bangles on their slender arms.
It had been years since I held a woman in my arms and the closeness of these two attractive young ladies stirred something inside me. They sat so close that in one moment I was tempted to stretch out my hand and pinch the tight of one of them. It looked as if the jeans were at least two sizes two small and would fall apart at the seams any moment. I was pretending reading a book, but actually, I was observing their every move and feeling my body as well as my brain burning with desire.
They had with them a plastic tray with cups of coffee, glasses of water and some cakes, and after they tasted their drinks one of them said,
“I’ve decided to dump him.”
“Why are you so eager,” said the other.
“He is simply boring. Boring in bed, boring when he makes jokes, boring when he eats, boring when he talks about his job...”
“So what?” said the other. “He buys you expensive presents, invites you to dinners, parties, travels. It costs you nothing.”
“I know,” said the first. “Now he wants to take me with him for two weeks in Australia.”
“Oh, Australia! How interesting! I wished someone would invite me there.”
“But I don’t want to follow him.”
“How can you be so stupid, you silly girl? You can always dump him, but you can’t always travel to Australia.”
“I know,” said the first, “but I would never manage to be with him in a hotel room for so long time. That would be a real torture!”

The End of the Part one

[Gillnetter]

Please, would you proofread the first part of my short story

I was sitting in an almost empty cafe; bored with my lonely, meaningless life, thinking about if I am was going to kill myself this week or wait a few more days to see if anything was going to change, when two blondes entered and sat at the table close to mine. They were in their twenties, dressed in very tight clothes and if this had been somewhere in Germany I would have thought that they were prostitutes who took taking ("taking" rather than "who took" is a stylistic choice - it just sounds better to me.) a short break before returning to their rooms and their customers. Their long blond hair was pulled back into ponytails, revealing their beautiful faces, as if they belonged to the two dolls (Suggested rewrite - "The long blond hair of both of them was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing their beautiful faces, faces that could have belonged to dolls, not real women."). They had some cheap hoop earrings in their ears, metal rings on their fingers and plastic bangles on their slender arms.
It had been years since I held a woman in my arms and the closeness of these two attractive young ladies stirred something inside me. They sat so close that in one moment I was tempted to stretch out my hand and pinch the tight thigh of one of them. It looked as if the jeans were at least two sizes two too small and would fall apart (Falling apart usuall happens because of age or misuse. I believe that you want another word here - "...and would rip apart...) at the seams any moment. I was pretending that I was reading a book, but actually, I was observing their every move and feeling my body as well as my brain burning with desire.
They had with them ("with them" doesn't serve any good purpose here.) a plastic tray with cups of coffee, glasses of water and some cakes, and after they tasted their drinks one of them said,
“I’ve decided to dump him.”
“Why are you so eager,” said the other.
“He is simply boring. Boring in bed, boring when he makes jokes, boring when he eats, boring when he talks about his job...”
“So what?” said the other. “He buys you expensive presents, invites you to dinners, parties, travels. It costs you nothing.”
“I know,” said the first. “Now he wants to take me with him for two weeks in Australia.”
“Oh, Australia! How interesting! I wished wish ("wish" if it is ongoing - wished if it only happened in the past.) someone would invite me there.”
“But I don’t want to follow him.”
"But I don't want to go with him."
“How can you be so stupid, you silly girl? You can always dump him, but you can’t always travel to Australia.”
“I know,” said the first, “but I would could never manage to be with him in a hotel room for so long time. That would be a real torture!” (This could be written, "...be a real torture", or "...would be real torture". There is a slight difference in meaning. I would opt for "...would be real torture."

The End of the Part one

Sounds good so far. Will there be more?

[Bassim]

Dear Gillnetter.

Thank you very much for your help. I really appreciate it. It means much to me that someone can correct my mistakes and tell me what I have written wrong.

There will be more short stories and texts from me soon.

Best wishes.
B