Writing group

We have the very first meeting of our writing group tomorrow. The task was to write about a couple in a shop buying a bed. But what they are discussing isn't really the bed, it's about some issue in their relationship/some argument that they have been having. Of courese, I have left my offering to the last minute. Here is what I have written so far, in its raw state, no revision:

The Goldilocks Bed

The Goldilocks Bed

‘And how can I help you both on this bright, sunny day?’
‘Got a knife, so I can cut my throat?’ muttered Sally..
‘Erm..sorry, I didn’t quite catch that...’
‘Oh don’t mind my wife,’ said Hal in a jocular tone.’She’s just kidding,aren’t you darling?’

Sally smiled brightly, trying to ignore Hal’s hand clasped none-too lightly around her upper arm. There would be a bruise later, for sure.
‘What we’re after,’ said Hal, with that same forced jocularity, ‘Is, quite simply, a bed.’
‘^Darling, don’t you mean The Goldilocks Bed?’

Alan, 18, barely shaving, palms growing sticky and throat just a tad dry, glanced from one to the other.
‘I, I don’t think I follow you.’
‘Why young man, it’s perfectly simple. We want The Perfect Bed. Not too hard, not too soft, not too wide, not too narrow. Isn’t that right, darling? In fact, it must be Just. Right. We wouldn’t want it clashing with the carpet, it mustn’t look out of place amongst the...
‘Yes, yes, Sally. I think young....Alan, is it? Has the idea.’

Sally smiled sweetly again, although ‘young Alan’ thought he detected the slightest hint of, well, not malice, but something.....edgy.

‘...........and this is the same model, but King size...’
Sally smirked. Flicked at the side of her skirt. Clasped her hands neatly in front. Stole a glance at her watch. Gazed distractedly around the showroom.
‘I think you’ll find, young Alan, that you've shown us this before. Twice.’

Alan stumbled over an apology. Sally waved it away.
‘It’s OK,’ she said in a conspiratorial tone. ‘I expect that before this day is out, we will have seen all of the beds several times over. And what’s the betting that we end up with the first? If we’re lucky.......’

Creative (?) writing

A club I'm a member of is running a week of workshops- all sorts of things from singing to cooking to fire-work ceramics. One of them was Creative Writing, which I thought I would give a go. The class was very enjoyable. One of the exercises was to think of an object and write about it. Three things had to be accomplished within the writing - tell the reader: what the object was; what it could see;how old it was.

Here's my contribution:

Yeah, I know, everyone says babies' bottoms are cute. But look at it from my point of view, will ya? It's all I get to see, day in, day out. And I know some of y'all are into body piercing, and that's fine- if it's a matter of choice. Any idea how it feels, waiting for the stab of that pin? They say hard and fast gets it over with, but I shudder every time.

And that's not the worst. No, I don't mean that. I can cope with the pee and the shit. I can cope with going through it all with the third child, even though my looks are fading and I'm getting a bit worn. The real torture is the wash cycle. Apparently water boarding is illegal now. Try telling that to Jimmy's mum....