Desert Rain / Part #1

Sometimes you need a break from working on the same piece for so long. It can get stale, over familiar, too close. Desert Rain is an idea I’ve had for a while now and will hopefully be my second book. I come back to it when I need to go to something completely different. It’s about peri-menopausal book editor, Carol, and her journey to the centre of Australia and the centre of herself. Here’s how it starts.

I’ve had this vagina for 54 years now. You’d think we’d be better friends. Friendship it is not. More like a dictatorship. Over the course of my life it’s had an assortment of things shoved inside it. If it wasn’t so slick it would’ve made a handy pocket, but I never could keep anything in it for very long before I just wanted that place within me to be clutter free again. Not that it’s closed for trade now, but, oh who am I kidding, it shut down a long time ago. When the slick became the desert. I still remember the first thing it ever had inside it. It belonged to my father. It was a hand-blown glass figurine of Pluto the dog. It had these long spindly legs and I gently eased its cold left hindleg into my vagina when I was 14 years old. That was 40 years ago. My god, 40 years. In that time, it’s had a deodorant bottle, a green highlighter pen, several thousand wads of cotton, fingers, tongues, thumbs, vibrators, a carrot or two, a broiled cucumber, an Easter egg, about 15 penis’s give or take, Pluto’s leg of course, and if you really want to get technical, my daughter, Bindi, who came out rather then went in. No wonder I’m tired, I’ve had an entire Cirque DeSoleil production up my twat.
It’s not like I hurt that it’s shut for business, I just feel a bit like I’ve let the side down somehow. I couldn’t care less if the circus never comes back to town. I always thought it was overrated. Then why, as I lower myself into the too hot water, do I feel that warm tremor deep inside me? It heats my belly like a blush and forces my legs open just that little bit.
Hot water swells around me, heating me up until I quiver just that little bit. Enough to let Carol know she’s still alive. Still has this centre of herself that will never stop aching to be nourished in a way that all her books and intellectual pursuits can never fulfill. Water flows inside me and I breathe it in, like a lover’s touch, like oxygen. So alone I have been. The wet inside me has gone and I feel her anger, white-hot. Sometimes at night it seeps through the house like a dissolute fog and envelopes everything, everything. It turns corners before she does, slamming into people as they walk by. Sometimes they look back, as if they’ve heard it or felt it, this force of unrelenting rage that pushes through them like a premonition.
Carol and I stopped speaking years ago. I can’t remember now who gave up on who first, but one of us did because the silence has been immutable. And how do you go back after that? If you’ve abandoned someone you love, how do you go back? How can you be sure you ever loved in the first place? Carol is already engrossed in her book. I can feel the Semillon dulling her veins like a cloud. How can I love again if she mutes my voice like the mother of an addict who refuses to see the truth? She bathes while I drown. Oblivious. Oblivion.

©Simonne Michelle 2006



Filed under Fiction, Love, My Book, Sex, Spiritual, Women/Feminist, Writing

20 responses to “Desert Rain / Part #1

  1. Grace

    Hi, Simonne 🙂

    I find your obsession with vaginas fascinating!


  2. poseidonsmuse

    Simonne – With your words and subject matter, you are touching on an intimate aspect of woman-hood that very few brave souls would dare to tread. I appreciate the raw honesty in your words. Your writing style is simultaneously balanced – bold and feminine. Thank you!


  3. Has Carol been talking to my vagina lately? They seem to have a lot in common.


  4. Grace

    (( Simonne )) I thought I’d better come back here and take the time to explain my comment so that your regular readers (who don’t know me from Eve) don’t misunderstand me.

    Choosing to look at life symbollically is something I’ve written about and something I do regularly. And between our little postings back and forth, I’ve sort of get you on an energetic level

    So here’s why I’m so fascinating about your ‘obsession’ with vaginas (and that is a good thing, btw). It speaks to me of your focus and attention being placed on the parts of you that are less public, less easily seen. Vaginas, et al, are about creativity and experiencing pleasure and even about eliminating unwanted things.

    Here’s what I get about you. You are on a mission. A mission to clear away the unwanted things from the most hidden, secret parts of your divine feminine self. You’re voicing your passion and creativity in ways that perhaps in the past you didn’t feel as confident about. Perhaps you’re even healing wounds that your inner softness and vulnerability had, all directly connected to your femininity and sense of self.

    🙂 Anyway…that’s where I’m coming from…((( Simonne )))


  5. Grace – You’re lovely and very intuitive by the looks of it. I loved your first comment; it is an interesting fascination! My writing has been female-centric for as long as I can remember. Certainly on a mission – for myself and to hopefully bring others closer to hidden parts in themselves also.
    OB, you really do crack me up!
    Muse, you lovely thing, thank you.


  6. D. Peace

    That was outstanding. I love your verbosity, word choice, and deeply descriptive writing style.

    I also love the tongue-in-cheek approach and offbeat sense of humor of the piece. It’s funny, but more importantly, evocative.

    You have a lot of courage and self-confidence to talk about intimate relationships (in this case, between a woman and her vagina) with candor. That’s the single best quality in a writer.

    An eater egg? Really? That’s pretty brazen.

    I’ve heard of cucumbers being used as sex toys, for sure. Cucumbers are also used to make facial masks, sliced up and put on salads, and pickled and eaten during pregnancy. Women are like MacGyver with fucking cucumbers. They can also make a handy doorstop, I’ve heard.

    Of course, that’s only a compliment. I appreciate that level of resourcefulness. I think it comes from having such hectic lives. Today’s modern woman may need both a dildo AND a snack, but may not have enough time to make two stops after work.

    Alright, enough of my stupid joking. You’re a brilliant writer, and I find your stuff captivating. Please, keep up the good work. I’ll see you later. 🙂


  7. D. Peace

    *EDIT: EASTER egg. That was supposed to read “easter egg”.


  8. Peace – hilarious – a dildo and a snack eh? You might be onto something there! Seriously though, thanks for the compliment and support. As I said to my blogging friend, Bill, it’s great to be putting some of my stuff out there and getting some postive responses from men.


  9. D. Peace

    Yeah, absolutely. I love it. Keep up the good work, and I’ll keep reading.


  10. stumbled on to you here via a series of clicks…

    nicely done, and i love the imagery/analogies. you wade nicely through them without getting mired.

    i can’t help but wonder… what words, what feelings might be the male “desert-rain” story? has anyone every written about the drying of manhood and the subsequent redefining of self?? now you have me thinking.

    is not that the ultimate reward of writing: to make others think/feel?


  11. Hey Simmone,
    I just want to say that I admire your candor in this piece. I don’t think there are many writers who could come at this topic with this approach and pull it off. With you, however, it seems as natural as sunshine and breathing.

    As always, I find your writing honest, real and quite funny. Keep going.


  12. Welcome Theo, glad you found me. I think the male story would be extremely interesting and one that is much less explored on that level. I do explore the male voice in the novel (well, that’s the plan!) – will post the piece that follows this to give you an idea. Still, it doesn’t explore his journey like it does hers… Maybe there’s a book there for you 🙂

    WC – Thank you so much, lovely words and encouragement 🙂 I’m glad my “vagina obsession” as Grace put it, is as natural as breathing, I like it!!


  13. Pingback: Desert Rain / Part #2 « Cliterary Fiction

  14. Di


    I have read your comments on my friends blog a lot and I really like what you have to say. Your so supportive. I had no idea about your vagina intrests. I have to smile at myself, thinking well why would have have a idea about that. 🙂 Oh My I have just read it again. I’m laughing. I love the way you’ve approached this topic. And hey I read on my Rubyshooz blog that you are getting married. Congratulations.

    Respect Simmone

    Di 🙂


  15. Thanks for dropping by Di, lovely to have you here. I’m glad you liked the piece 🙂 And thanks on the congrats! Stop by again anytime,


  16. Di

    Simmone I had you on my mind last night..See ..I need some removals doing and was thinking that if we can fit quite a lot ‘up there’ that that it would save me some cash. We could do a couple of trips. It would save me a fortune. Hehe!! Keep writing, I love the form, it is indeed refreshing.
    ((((((Simmone))))))) Hugs girl.


  17. Hehe indeed! Glad you find me refreshing; others find me too ‘out there’, but I’m not really. As Adrienne Rich once said, “This is the oppressors’s language.” I’m just doing as I know how in the language that sits best with me, so thanks for joining me here.


  18. chughes

    i like the honest voice of this, the openess.
    i wish i were brave enough to write such things.


  19. Oh I love Vagina pieces!!! One of my favorite pieces when it came out in college was The Vagina Monologues. I even saw it in production. I recently reread it because I came across it in a box of books. I said that to say, I think it is literature like this-such honesty- that really is going to provide the insight so many women need to truly understand themselves. It’s what makes being a writer so fantastic. The ability to put into words what others only wish they knew how to say or where to begin.
    The thing I like about your work is that it is actually a story. I like the point of view from Carol’s vagina. Giving it a persona provides so much more insight into her character. This must be so interesting to write for you. Because her vagina is a character as well. This was great. I’m off to read the rest. kim


  20. Hi Kim, I saw the vagina monologues years ago too! Happy reading!


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