Excerpts 

Any Attention

The voices in the dark are laughing.  They’ve been chatting about a co-worker, a woman whose uniform is too tight for her big, bazooka breasts. They don’t seem to care if I hear them or anyone else for that matter. Although there is no one around, except those driving slowly by stretching their necks my direction to see if they might recognize the bedraggled handcuffed woman in the back seat of the police car. I wish that darn cop had turned the cab lights off, but NO, he left them on, shining brightly in my face to make sure that everyone passing could see the criminal he had caught. Criminal! That’s what I am now, a blankety-blank criminal! (I never did learn to cuss.)

Not One Iota

It was the summer of 1964 – a time when neighbors didn’t lock their doors, and they waved to complete strangers and set up lemonade stands in their front yards. A time when children played outside till after dark, as long as the porch lights were left on to guide them home.  Hide and seek, hopscotch and baseball were the favorite outdoor games. When the summer heat became unbearable, Barbie dolls, Monopoly and various card games kept the children busy inside after running in and out of the sprinkler and up and down the Slip n’ Slide, fresh cut grass stuck to their feet and their bottoms as they frantically chased down the musical ice cream truck for that heavenly Dreamsicle or Rainbow Pop-Up. Yet, all across the country it was also a time of eroding innocence, when a bible salesman could make a killing on guilt alone.

There Was You

   “Let’s not go,” Gloria whined, leaning across the car seat, squeezing Nelson’s arm tightly enough to make him look in her direction. 

   “What do you mean, let's not go?” he asked irritably, trying to read her expression in the dark, knowing better than to take his eyes off the road while driving in such a heavy downpour. The splashing rain against the windshield reflecting on her pale face made her look like a sinister old woman lurking behind a jaggedly sheer black veil. He wondered at that very moment why he had even been attracted to her.

   “Well, first of all, the party will be full of pretentious women, and I don’t even want to say what you already know about your men friends, and if we go, you’ll get drunk which will give you the liberty to flirt with every female there who will be clawing all over you anyway because you were so popular in college, and before you know it, I’ll be glaring across the room at you or you’ll be staring me down with that fake smile of yours, and when we finally realize it’s time to leave we’ll be so mad at each other, one of us will lock ourselves in the bathroom or take off in the car, leaving the other behind and by morning we will have built up so much hate from a bad-night’s sleep that we’ll spend the week not talking until finally you say, I’m sorry and not remembering exactly why, just knowing that whatever you did was not good for me, and we’ll try to shake it off and treat each other nice like it’s the end of the world, and before you know it we’ll be having lots, I mean lots of make-up sex, and I’ll totally wear you out, and then you'll say something stupid and then…”

   “Don’t say another word, Gloria...I’m turning around.” 

Go Home Mel!

“I guess you weren’t successful...you’re still naked, still in my robe...well, what’s left of the bloody thing, and you look just awful! What did you do this time, Mel?” she reluctantly asked, her patience wearing wafer thin.

   “It involves a chain-linked fence, your red scarf, and a dog with razor-sharp teeth and a bad attitude! Oh, and half a box of Band-Aids. See?" he exclaimed indignantly, bending over to expose his bandaged bare bottom. "I really don’t want to talk about it. I’ll just say this…mission aborted!"