Mr. Nice Guy by Louise Hurrell

TW* strong language

‘You’re not like other girls,’

you say to every single woman

passing your way. Beer-breathed,

loose-tongued, you mouth lines well-

rehearsed into her ear.

A cake, warm, moist, sweetness and light.

Thick, creamy frosting, hundreds and thousands

of good times and on top a juicy red cherry

the colour of lust.

Full of hot air – you blow

off steam later with your mates,

the lads lads lads.

Let your words loose and loud in the air,

Why should you care if she hears?

Fucking total bore. She’s be a terrible lay.

She’s just a whore. A massive See You Next Tuesday.

You’re a great guy, a real catch,

any lass would be lucky to have you, you’ll find someone

don’t worry,

you’re all sugar and spice.

How nice.

---

“Admittedly, I did have fun writing out my frustrations about nice guys but ultimately I didn’t think it was literary enough to be published. There isn’t a hidden meaning, there’s no real imagery or any writing techniques. People aren’t going to have multiple interpretations if they ever come back to it. It didn’t seem like anything people would want in their magazines. So I tucked away, never to see the light of day.”

Louise Hurrell (she/her) is a writer based in Scotland. Her work has appeared in Heartbalm Lit, Renesme Literary and The Voidspace among others. When not writing she can be found at her local indie cinema an trying/failing to learn photography. Come say hi on Twitter @LouiseHurrell