Character Guide-An Online Romance

Ezra Lee Tousaint-Main Character aged 37.

Sadie Claire MacBride-Other Main Character redneck SSBBW aged 31.

Milo James MacBride-Sadie’s Dad deceased.

Georgia Faye Dalton MacBride-Sadie’s Mom aged 53.

Reverend Murray Paul Stevens-Sadie’s Pastor and retired firefighter aged 75.

Mrs. Linda Anne Kempf Stevens-Pastor Murray’s wife aged 71.

Dally James MacBride-Sadie’s Paternal Uncle aged 65.

Sophia Natayla “Sophie” Chernenkov MacBride-Sadie’s Paternal Aunt by Marriage aged 57.

Alyssa Jean MacBride-Sadie’s pregnant cousin and always in competition with her aged 29.

Nicky Joe Derringer-Alyssa’s Boyfriend and baby Dad constantly in trouble with the law but well connected aged 26.

James Henry MacBride-Sadie’s Paternal Grandpa aged 87.

Matilda Jane Alden MacBride-Sadie’s Paternal Grandma also was an SSBBW deceased.

Back to “An Online Romance”

The Next Day-An Online Romance

It was Noon when Ezra’s phone rang.

He saw Sadie’s information on the screen and hurriedly answered, “Hello.”

“Hey, you!” Sadie replied.

“Oh, it’s so nice to hear your voice again.”

“You’re so sweet!”

“Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Well, I got a somewhat good report from my doctors. They want me to continue with my high blood pressure treatments as usual. It hasn’t gotten better but it hasn’t gotten worse either.”

“Praise God! You know, I want you to live because I want you by my side forever! I’m well aware of how it was your Dad’s high blood pressure that killed him.”

“His Mom as well.”

“Then, please, Sadie, you need to be careful! I never want to lose you!”

“Just pray for me then, but as far as I can see you never will lose me!”

“Now my Mom has just pulled up into the Dairy Queen parking lot and we’re going eat, but I will call you as soon as I am home and we can spend some more time together if you wish.”

“Sure that would be wonderful. Y’all just be careful everywhere y’all go.”

“We will. What are you going to eat for lunch?”

“Some seared chicken breasts and some steamed carrots along with some steamed green beans. I made them all for dinner last night.”

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Well, I have been living alone for the better part of my adult life and now being diabetic, I have to prepare healthy meals for myself.”

“I should eat healthy like that more often, but the food stamps only go so far.”

“I understand totally.”

“Now we’re about to order, so I will call you later.”

“Okay.”

“All right, bye Ezra.”

“Bye Sadie.”

Ezra walked into his kitchen and turned his countertop scanner on. Seconds later he intercepted a notice to mariners from the Coast Guard. He then took out the meat and vegetables from his refrigerator then warmed them up in his microwave oven.

After his meal was ready, he placed it on the table then said grace and ate, while listening to his scanner.

In the meantime, Sadie and her Mom each ordered a 1/3 Pound Cheeseburger and a Banana Shake. They as well took their food to a table said grace and then ate.

“Do you think Ezra will be different from the others?” Sadie’s Mother asked her.

“I sure hope so. He knows how much I weigh and he still wants me. And he just got finished telling me how he wants me by his side forever,” Sadie replied.

Her Mother smiled slightly, then said, “I hope he is telling the truth. I don’t like seeing you with a broken heart all the time.”

“He does seem genuine.”

“Well, you know Pastor Murray prays for you as do I.”

“Ezra said how he wants to meet me during Thanksgiving week.”

“Well, that will give y’all some more time to talk.”

“Well, if he is as sweet as he is now, I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Does he work?”

“No, he gets disability.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yes. He is schizophrenic and diabetic, but both are well under control.”

“Speaking of that, I know we always eat out after your doctor’s appointments, but you too could become diabetic if you’re not careful. Then you would have to battle your blood sugar in addition to your blood pressure. And you will gain more weight if you and Ezra get into a more stable relationship.”

“I know. I know. I’m just glad that Ezra told me how he likes big women.”

“Well, I know you must be happy but don’t use that as an excuse to not lose weight.”

“He did say how he wants me to live and if I have to lose weight to live longer, I think he would understand.”

“Sounds like you’re falling for him.”

“I am, most definitely.”

“How old is he?”

“Thirty-seven.”

“So he’s six years older than you?”

“Yes, is that all right?”

“It’s fine. Your Daddy was eight years older than me and you know how much we loved each other.”

“Yes, Daddy was amazing and taken so soon.”

“All the more reason for you to pay attention to your health very carefully.” She paused, then said, “Speaking of that, we need to pick up your medications so, finish eating.”

Sadie nodded then finished off her cheeseburger than gulped down her banana shake.

They then cleared the table and left.

Sadie’s Mother drove through the drive up at the local Walgreen’s. Sadie then gave her information and paid with her debit card then was handed a three month supply of blood pressure medication.

They then drove home.

Sadie’s mother unlocked the door to their trailer and Sadie went walk to her room to call Ezra.

He had just finished washing the dishes when his phone rang.

“Hey, baby.” He answered.

“Hey.”

“Are you back home?”

“Yes. I am relaxing in my room.”

“Thank God you’ve made it home safely!”

“My Mom says I should watch my weight because I could also get diabetes.”

“If you want, I could share some healthy recipes with you.”

“If I lost weight, would you still want me, though? I mean I know how much you like big girls.”

“Of course I would still want you. Even if you did lose some weight there’s a part of you that I hope will always be big!”

“Well, my breasts and my butt will get smaller if I lose weight.”

“I was talking about your heart though!”

“You’re sweet!”

“I know I came on to you because you’re a big lady, but if you’re as wonderful as I think you are, I could want you in any size. Besides, as I said before, I want you to live!”

“You’re making my eyes wet!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you did nothing wrong. It’s just no one has ever been so sweet to me. I’ll confess that you’re making another part of me wet as well, but it would be a sin to describe which part!”

“Have you ever been with a man like that before?”

“I was molested when I was six, but other than that, no.” She paused then asked, “What about you?”

“When I was in my twenties, I was in a relationship with a woman who treated me terribly, yet always wanted to have sex. She deflowered me. But as weird as this sounds, I didn’t want to lay with her anymore because she treated me so badly, so she cheated on me and I left her in my very early thirties. Then I had a very innocent relationship with a young lady, but it didn’t work out.”

“As cute and sweet as you are, I’m surprised that you’ve only been with one other in that way.”

“I’m just so sorry you were molested. I wish there was a way I could take that pain from you. What happened to the guy that hurt you?”

“My Daddy shot him, leaving him a paraplegic. He’s now in a prison hospice for the rest of his life.”

“I guess he got his just desserts, then.”

“But, am I pure enough for you, now that you know this?”

“Of course you are! And anyway, you could say that my past is more extensive than yours. All in all, you’re a wonderful and beautiful young lady of whom I am tremendously honored to call mine!”

“You make me very happy and I admit I am falling for you!”

“I feel the same way. I just cannot believe that the young lady of my dreams wants me!”

“Well, it’s because you’re so sweet!”

“Thank you.” Ezra paused, then continued, “Does any of your family know about me?”

“My Mom does.”

“What does she think?”

“She’s slightly leery, but only because so many others have rejected me.”

“Well if there’s a way I can relieve that anxiety of hers, name it.”

“Just keep talking to me and keep being sweet to me.”

“Rest assured, I will.”

“Now, I have to go potty real badly, but call me later this evening so we can talk some more.”

“What time?”

“Say around Eight P.M.”

“All right, I sure will.”

“Okay bye.”

“Bye.”

Sadie went to relieve herself in the bathroom.

After she was done, she went back to her room and took a nap.

Meanwhile, Ezra drove to New Orleans and spent the rest of the day watching marine traffic.

He took several pictures of the boats, ships, and barges passing on the Mississippi River and sent them to Sadie.

She had replied how they looked so neat, though she was half asleep.

At 6:00 PM, Ezra drove back to his apartment and checked his blood sugar. It was slightly low, so he drank a can of Wild Cherry Pepsi, then prepared a dinner of a fried pork chop, steamed yellow squash, and steamed broccoli florets.

Likewise, Sadie woke up and her Mom was preparing a meal of hamburger steaks along with green peas and mashed potatoes.

After everyone was done eating, the table was cleared and the dishes were washed, Ezra called Sadie. It was now getting on Eight P.M.

“Hey, you!” Sadie answered.

“Hey,” Ezra replied.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk more but I was half sleeping when you sent me those pictures. But they were really neat.”

“Well, thank you. Watching marine traffic may seem boring to most, but it’s fun for me and it keeps me out of trouble.”

“Well, you have to have hobbies.”

“Speaking of that, what do you do for fun?”

“Well, I cannot drive, so I am pretty much a homebody, but as I said on my dating profile, I like to play games on my phone and tablet.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I’m glad you’re able to do something.”

“There’s also this blogger I read. He writes the most beautiful love stories. Maybe one day we can read his work together.”

“I wish I could write, but I would love to do that with you.”

“I also wish I could write.”

“What are his stories like?”

“Well, let me put it this way, we’ll have to be careful when we read them together, otherwise we may be tempted to commit a certain sin.”

“They’re that good?”

“Yes, they always bring out those feelings in me. It’s just I was never able to share them with anyone because I was always ghosted.”

“I was ghosted quite a bit as well, so I know what you’re going through.”

“But now we have each other, right?”

“Oh, yes! Most definitely! And I am so happy about that!”

“Me too!”

“I cannot wait to come to see you!”

“Neither can I!”

“Where would I sleep though?”

“In my arms, of course?”

“How would your Mom feel about that?”

“She would be fine as long as you treat me right and commit to me.” Sadie paused, then continued, “Anyway, I pay the bills around here.”

“Well, my intentions are indeed to treat you right and nothing would make me happier than to commit to you!”

“I’m falling for you even more!”

“As am I!”

“So, what heritage are you, anyway?”

“Redneck and Cherokee. What about you?”

“French and a little bit Irish.”

“Like Cajun French?”

“No. Parisian French!”

“Well, my family might tease you, but I think French men are so sophisticated and I hear they make wonderful lovers.”

“Now I am blushing!”

“I bet it’s so cute though!”

“When you say you’re redneck, do you know which European Countries, like more specific than just Anglo Saxon?”

“Scotch-Irish and maybe a little Welsh.”

“So we both have Irish, then.”

“Apparently.”

“The only Irish trait of mine that I know of is that I loved drinking Whiskey in my younger days, but cannot have it now because of this diabetes.”

“What races were your two exes?”

“The one I was with for during my twenties was Mexican, Italian, and Black. The one I was with while in my very early thirties was Cajun, Houmas, which is a Native American tribe in Louisiana and she was also partially Black.”

“The man who molested me was Black, but from Puerto Rico.”

“Would your family reject me because of the women I dated prior to finding you?”

“I doubt it. Once they see how wonderful you treat me and how happy you make me, they’ll want me to keep you!” Sadie paused, then continued, “But don’t advertise it either.”

“I understand, completely.”

There was a knock on Sadie’s bedroom door.

It was her mother and she said, “Alyssa and Nicky Joe are coming to visit tomorrow, so you might want to get some rest tonight.”

Ezra heard Sadie’s Mother and said, “Do I have to let you go for now?”

“No, we can talk a little while longer.” She paused and said, “I’m not looking forward to it. My cousin Alyssa is always in competition with me. She’s pregnant for her methhead boyfriend and they’re both coming tomorrow.”

“Sounds like fun,” Ezra said sarcastically, then continued, “In all seriousness, I need to do laundry tomorrow anyway.”

“I know right. It’s just Alyssa who was always skinny and she always had a boyfriend while I had none. But I cannot wait to show you off to her, because you’re so much classier and cuter than her boyfriend ever will be and you treat me like a queen.”

“Does that mean I get to shower you with affection in front of her?”

“Well, if you did, I would like it a lot and it would score you some extra points with me!” Sadie said as she giggled.

“Just know that I would do it anyway because I am that much crazy about you.”

“I am falling for you hard and fast, so please don’t break my heart!”

“I am falling for you equally hard and equally fast and I pray that you don’t break my heart either!”

“I never will! I know a good thing when I see it!”

“And I likewise know how wonderful you are and just so you know, I want you by my side forever!”

“I’ll take that to bed with me since I do have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to say the good night tidings?”

“You can if you want.”

“Then I want you to know how much I long to give you hugs and kisses good night. And I want you to equally know how I long to keep you in my arms throughout the night. But my prayer is that The Good Lord watches over us until we talk again and my prayer is also that you will be by my side forever!”

“Yes, those are my desires as well. I cannot wait to see you and I cannot wait to read those blogs with you!”

“Well you have pleasant dreams and peaceful slumber and I will tell you good night.”

“Good Night.”

Sadie then changed into a nightgown, then turned on her fan and went to sleep.

Ezra stayed up for a few more hours, listening to his scanners then went to sleep as well…

Back to “An Online Romance”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pilot-An Online Romance

On a muggy late October night in South Louisiana, Ezra Lee Toussaint was sitting on his sofa scrolling past profiles of ladies on a dating site. He lived outside of New Orleans, Louisiana, and couldn’t seem to find any ladies that interested him nearby. So he increased the distance parameter on the app and continued searching.

Ezra was a disabled thirty-seven-year-old. He stayed in a one-bedroom apartment and of course lived off of a government pension from Social Security Disability. The reasons for his disability were that he was schizophrenic and later became diabetic, due to side effects from his medication.

Around the age of thirty-four he had lost a lot of weight, but still needed to take his schizophrenic medication as well as monitor his blood sugar and take insulin shots for the rest of his life.

Because of the cost of his medications and supplies as well as their side effects in addition to the debilitating mental effects of Schizophrenia, he decided it would be much more practical to draw disability and keep his medical benefits instead of being at the mercy of employer-sponsored health insurance.

He spent his waking hours working on his 1985 Jeep Comanche pickup truck, riding around at night, listening to his scanners, watching videos, or reading online.

He had all the time to do whatever he chose, whenever he chose, but his life was incomplete. He was missing the love of a good woman.

There was a good woman in his life about five years prior, but she called it quits on him out of the blue.

He spent a good while getting over that relationship, but then he decided to get on several dating sites and put himself on the market.

On this night he wasn’t having much success with the app.

It seemed that the only women who wanted him were well below his standards and the ones that met his standards all eventually ghosted him.

Ezra was getting ready to give up on these apps and find an alternative way to meet women when he saw her profile.

Her name was Sadie, she was 31 years old and from rural Marshall County, Alabama.

He studied her profile extensively and realized that she fit his standards exactly.

She was an SSBBW with a very pretty face, long flowing reddish-blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and the most beautiful curves.

On her profile she stated how she is indeed a big lady and if any potential mate of hers cannot deal with that, then just not waste their time and don’t even contact her. She stated how she wanted a man that would treat her like a queen, hold her by her waist, kiss her just because, and love her for her. She also stated how she is an excellent cook and despite her size, she’s the one to take and meet your family. Her profile then stated how she never smokes, or uses drugs and only drinks alcohol on special occasions. As her interests, she posted that they include hanging out with her family, riding around at night, swimming, playing games on her phone or tablet, and cuddling but only with the right man. She finally said how she is on disability because of her weight, but that means she can take care of herself financially and doesn’t want any man’s money, but rather his time, loyalty, affection, and love. Her height was listed as five feet.

Even though he wasn’t actually in her presence, Ezra felt immensely giddy as his heart skipped several beats.

For a few minutes he simply stared with great admiration at her pictures.

During those minutes, Ezra was going through in his head how he would write the perfect message for her, “Hey. I don’t know how to begin this, but let me first say that I am very picky about whom I would date. However, you seem to exceed my standards by far, and not only that I think you are beautiful and sweet. I want to get to know you more and if you are the right one for me, I would indeed treat you like a queen, hold you by that sexy waist of yours, shower your beautiful face with kisses just because and yes I could love you for you and let me say that you are indeed very lovable. I’m already crazy about you and if you would only know how giddy I feel just by looking at your profile, maybe you would somehow like me too. I know I am in Louisiana and you’re in Alabama, but gosh durn it, it wouldn’t matter to me how close or far you were, for you I would find a way to make it work. There aren’t any worthwhile women where I am, but you, well…you are more than worthwhile, you seem so perfect for me! I look forward to corresponding with you, so please give me a chance!”

Ezra sighed as he tapped the send button.

He then set his phone down and walked into the kitchen and took his medication.

Afterwards, he tested his blood sugar and saw that it was low, so he drank a cold can of Wild Cherry Pepsi.

He then turned on his scanner and listened as two towboat captains were coordinating their movements on the Intracoastal Waterway. He listened intently until he heard his phone go off.

A chat head appeared with Sadie’s picture.

Ezra took a deep breath then began to read the message.

“Hey. I’m really touched by what you told me. I also read your profile and you seem like a decent guy and yes I would be open to you getting to know me. I want to get to know you as well. I also think you’re really cute! It’s quite okay that you’re all the way in Louisiana because there are no worthwhile young men around here who are willing to pay attention to me, but I’m glad you are. You made me blush a whole lot when you told me that my waist is sexy. And yes, I am really happy that you are that you’re willing to make this work. Maybe you are the young man of whom I have been praying about. I hope you are serious about loving me for me because I am bigger than I appear in my pictures. I do weigh a little over four hundred pounds. When most guys find out exactly how big I am they ghost me. You seem really sweet, so I hope you are somehow different. I hope you would still want me now that you know my true weight and I promise you that I have an even bigger heart. Please write me back and let me know how you feel.”

Ezra’s heart swelled with joy that the young lady whom he was already catching feelings for was mutually interested in him. He knew he had to make it clear to Sadie exactly how much he was attracted to her. So, carefully, he typed back, “I’m so sorry all those other guys ghosted you but it’s their loss not yours. I hope it is also my gain and I apologize if that sounded wrong. There is something I want you to know and I pray you don’t think I am a pervert, but here goes: I am exclusively attracted to bigger women. There is just something about them that drives me wild but in a very good way. And if she has a pretty face like yours, I’m even more attracted. A skinny woman doesn’t have that effect on me. And a skinny woman wouldn’t ever make me happy but someone your size would make me the happiest man there is! I meant what I said when I told you how I think you’re beautiful and sweet. I won’t ever ghost you, but I will honor you and cherish you if you indeed let me! Please don’t ever ghost me either though. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and you have such a sweet and pure heart, that I want you even more now. I just hope this continues.”

A minute passed, then Ezra’s phone alerted him to another incoming message from Sadie. It read, “Oh, I don’t think you’re a pervert because you’re attracted to bigger women. Actually, I’m glad you are because you’re really cute and sweet and if you didn’t like bigger women you probably wouldn’t be talking to me right now, so it’s quite all right. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I know you’re falling for me and I will admit that I am falling for you as well, but I have to make sure you are right for me. I am indeed attracted to you physically and I think you are really sweet as well, but I need to know most of all that you are a Christian and that you are a humble gentleman. I’m almost sure that you are are the latter, but I need to make sure that you are also the former. If you indeed are, then you will have the keys to my heart. But I must know. Let me close by saying that I hope you are because I really do like you and I could see you making me happy. Please let me know.”

“Why don’t I call you and explain it to you? It would be easier to say it verbally than to write it all down.”

“Sure. I bet you have a cute voice.”

They then exchanged phone numbers.

Ezra then called Sadie.

“Hey you!” She answered.

“Hi,” Ezra said.

“Well tell me all you need to say.”

“Okay, here goes: I am indeed a Christian and have been since my teen years. There is something else you must know about me and that is I get disability. First I got it for being schizophrenic, which I got saved while I was recovering from my first mental breakdown. A family member presented The Gospel to me and I surrendered to it. Most of my family is Catholic, except for this family member, and I always noticed how he was closer to God than the rest of them, so I hung on to his every word. It was the best choice I ever made when I got saved! The medication I take for schizophrenia caused me to eventually become diabetic. I was heavy from my twenties until my early thirties then at age thirty-four, I lost the weight, mostly from strict dieting because of my diabetes. I allow the Lord to direct my paths and I acknowledge Him every step of the way. I would also be in a lot of trouble without Him. If you ever meet me, you will see that I carry a SwissGear backpack and a small Igloo cooler everywhere I go. I carry my medication and diabetic supplies, as well as a few cool personal gadgets in my backpack, and I have a few cans of soft drink as well as my insulin in the cooler.”

“I can tell that for sure that you are a Christian and I am immensely happy about that fact! I’m so sorry about your disabilities, but maybe they make you humble, or at least I think they do. Could you tell me about the other stuff you carry in your backpack? I hope it is all legal stuff.”

Ezra replied, “Well, some of the stuff I carry may not be legal in New York or California, but it is perfectly legal in the rural South. I have my tablet with its charger, a scanner radio also with its charger, a Leatherman multi-tool, a Swiss Army Knife, three different tactical flashlights one of them has a USB-C charger the other two run on disposable batteries, my Bible, two flash drives, a power bank, and a scientific calculator.”

“That’s neat. But why do you have three flashlights?”

“Well one is for general purpose lighting. The other has a regular white light but also a red light for use at night such as fishing or looking for worms or just looking around in a car while riding and not disturb the driver. The third one is for self-defense, it is very bright and has a strobe feature that can disorient an attacker then I can hit him in the head with the flashlight while he is disoriented. There’s a lot of crime in Louisiana and my psychiatrist won’t clear me for a concealed weapon permit, so I had to improvise. As you can see I like to be prepared.”

“My Daddy carried a Leatherman on him everywhere he went, but he willed it to me when he passed away.”

“What did he die of?”

“He was big like me and couldn’t get his blood pressure under control, so four, almost five years ago, the Sunday just after Black Friday, he was out hunting with the new rifle he had just purchased and had a stroke out in the woods. We have a scanner too and heard EMT’s talking about him on it. He died hours later at the hospital.”

“I’m so sorry and he seems like he would have been a good man.”

“Oh he was. Maybe he would have liked you.”

“What was he hunting for?”

“Wild hogs. He wanted to roast one for Christmas Dinner but had to work up until Christmas, so this was his only time off, until Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, that sounds delicious. What was his job?”

“He worked at a gun store and he loved to hunt in his free time.”

“If scanners upset you, I won’t play mine in front of you. I know it must be traumatic to hear one go off.”

“Well, that’s very sweet and thoughtful of you, but it doesn’t bother me.”

“What do you listen to on yours, anyway?”

“Mostly boat traffic. If that isn’t too active, I listen to the fire departments.”

“And why do you carry that Leatherman and Swiss Army Knife?”

“Just so I can help myself or others should the need arrive. It seems I am always using them to fix something at my church. I see them more as tools than weapons, and I do enjoy helping others.”

“Now you sound like my Daddy, but I like it.”

“I know you know that I am a Christian. I hope you think I am also a humble gentleman.”

“Yes. I do, but I just had to make sure you were first.”

“Yay.”

“You seem happy.”

“Well, the young lady of my dreams thinks I am a gentleman I would say that makes me happy!”

“So, since I am the young lady of your dreams, why don’t you make me yours?”

“How do you want me to do that?”

“Ask me, silly.”

“Okay, I need to know your full name first, so I can do this right.”

“It is Sadie Claire MacBride. What’s yours?”

“Ezra Lee Toussaint.”

“That’s a neat name.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, are you going to ask me?”

“Yes: Sadie Claire MacBride, will you be my girlfriend? I don’t have much to offer you, but I do promise to give you my time, my loyalty, and my affections!”

“Of course I will, and you’ve just made me a very happy lady, Ezra Lee Toussaint! I hope and pray that this is just the beginning!”

“It is just the beginning and I hope and pray that you are the one because I cannot picture anyone better!”

“I hope you are the one as well and I cannot wait to meet you in person!”

“How about we try to Thanksgiving week. I’ll save some money from when I paid on November 3rd.”

“Sure. But I’m too fat to drive myself so you’re going to have to come to me.”

“That’s fine. And don’t be so hard on yourself because I think you’re the most beautiful lady ever! Anyway, I have a 1985 Jeep Comanche, but it runs just as well as any truck made today. And I will gladly come to see you.”

“You’re so sweet and I think you’re the cutest man I’ve ever seen!”

“Thank you!”

“Hey, what time is it?”

Ezra looked at his G-Shock, then answered, “10:44.”

“I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning, so I need to get some sleep. I too have high blood pressure because of my weight. It’s under control, thanks to the medications, but I need routine monitoring.”

“You do get disability as well, or at least your profile says so.”

“Yes, I get my Daddy’s survivor’s benefits. I use them to pay me and my Momma’s bills and the utilities. The trailer and the land are paid for, thank God!”

“Yes. Thank God indeed.” Ezra paused then continued, “There is something I want to tell you tonight, and every night before we go to sleep.”

“What is it?”

“Good Night Tidings.”

“Okay.”

“Here goes: I wish I was in your presence to lovingly give you good night hugs and a kisses goodnight, then gently tuck you into your bed. But I also pray that The Good Lord watches over both of us tonight and every night as we sleep. Finally I pray that we are together forever, because I only want you and no one else. Now, you get you some rest and I will take my medication.”

“That was very sweet and just know that I desire and pray for those very things as well!” Sadie paused then continued, “I will text you good morning and I will call you when I am out of my appointment. If you want we can spend some time then.”

“Okay. I will be waiting. I’ll probably watching boats tomorrow, but I’ll make time for you.”

“I know you will.”

“Okay, good night.”

“Good night.”

Ezra took his medicine then went to bed happier than ever.

Likewise Sadie went to bed filled with more joy than ever.

They dreamed about each other all night long…

Back to “An Online Romance”

An Excerpt from “An Online Romance”

On a muggy late October night in South Louisiana, Ezra Lee Toussaint was sitting on his sofa scrolling past profiles of ladies on a dating site. He lived outside of New Orleans, Louisiana, and couldn’t seem to find any ladies that interested him nearby. So he increased the distance parameter on the app and continued searching.

Ezra was a disabled thirty-seven-year-old. He stayed in a one-bedroom apartment and of course lived off of a government pension from Social Security Disability. The reasons for his disability were that he was schizophrenic and later became diabetic, due to side effects from his medication.

Around the age of thirty-four he had lost a lot of weight, but still needed to take his schizophrenic medication as well as monitor his blood sugar and take insulin shots for the rest of his life.

Because of the cost of his medications and supplies as well as their side effects in addition to the debilitating mental effects of Schizophrenia, he decided it would be much more practical to draw disability and keep his medical benefits instead of being at the mercy of employer-sponsored health insurance.

He spent his waking hours working on his 1985 Jeep Comanche pickup truck, riding around at night, listening to his scanners, watching videos, or reading online.

He had all the time to do whatever he chose, whenever he chose, but his life was incomplete. He was missing the love of a good woman.

There was a good woman in his life about five years prior, but she called it quits on him out of the blue.

He spent a good while getting over that relationship, but then he decided to get on several dating sites and put himself on the market.

On this night he wasn’t having much success with the app.

It seemed that the only women who wanted him were well below his standards and the ones that met his standards all eventually ghosted him.

Ezra was getting ready to give up on these apps and find an alternative way to meet women when he saw her profile.

Her name was Sadie, she was 31 years old and from rural Marshall County, Alabama.

He studied her profile extensively and realized that she fit his standards exactly.

She was an SSBBW with a very pretty face, long flowing reddish-blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and the most beautiful curves.

On her profile she stated how she is indeed a big lady and if any potential mate of hers cannot deal with that, then just not waste their time and don’t even contact her. She stated how she wanted a man that would treat her like a queen, hold her by her waist, kiss her just because, and love her for her. She also stated how she is an excellent cook and despite her size, she’s the one to take and meet your family. Her profile then stated how she never smokes, or uses drugs and only drinks alcohol on special occasions. As her interests, she posted that they include hanging out with her family, riding around at night, swimming, playing games on her phone or tablet, and cuddling but only with the right man. She finally said how she is on disability because of her weight, but that means she can take care of herself financially and doesn’t want any man’s money, but rather his time, loyalty, affection, and love. Her height was listed as five feet.

Even though he wasn’t actually in her presence, Ezra felt immensely giddy as his heart skipped several beats.

For a few minutes he simply stared with great admiration at her pictures.

During those minutes, Ezra was going through in his head how he would write the perfect message for her, “Hey. I don’t know how to begin this, but let me first say that I am very picky about whom I would date. However, you seem to exceed my standards by far, and not only that I think you are beautiful and sweet. I want to get to know you more and if you are the right one for me, I would indeed treat you like a queen, hold you by that sexy waist of yours, shower your beautiful face with kisses just because and yes I could love you for you and let me say that you are indeed very lovable. I’m already crazy about you and if you would only know how giddy I feel just by looking at your profile, maybe you would somehow like me too. I know I am in Louisiana and you’re in Alabama, but gosh durn it, it wouldn’t matter to me how close or far you were, for you I would find a way to make it work. There aren’t any worthwhile women where I am, but you, well…you are more than worthwhile, you seem so perfect for me! I look forward to corresponding with you, so please give me a chance!”

Ezra sighed as he tapped the send button.

He then set his phone down and walked into the kitchen and took his medication.

Afterwards, he tested his blood sugar and saw that it was low, so he drank a cold can of Wild Cherry Pepsi.

He then turned on his scanner and listened as two towboat captains were coordinating their movements on the Intracoastal Waterway. He listened intently until he heard his phone go off.

A chat head appeared with Sadie’s picture.

Ezra took a deep breath then began to read the message.

“Hey. I’m really touched by what you told me. I also read your profile and you seem like a decent guy and yes I would be open to you getting to know me. I want to get to know you as well. I also think you’re really cute! It’s quite okay that you’re all the way in Louisiana because there are no worthwhile young men around here who are willing to pay attention to me, but I’m glad you are. You made me blush a whole lot when you told me that my waist is sexy. And yes, I am really happy that you are that you’re willing to make this work. Maybe you are the young man of whom I have been praying about. I hope you are serious about loving me for me because I am bigger than I appear in my pictures. I do weigh a little over four hundred pounds. When most guys find out exactly how big I am they ghost me. You seem really sweet, so I hope you are somehow different. I hope you would still want me now that you know my true weight and I promise you that I have an even bigger heart. Please write me back and let me know how you feel.”

Ezra’s heart swelled with joy that the young lady whom he was already catching feelings for was mutually interested in him. He knew he had to make it clear to Sadie exactly how much he was attracted to her. So, carefully, he typed back, “I’m so sorry all those other guys ghosted you but it’s their loss not yours. I hope it is also my gain and I apologize if that sounded wrong. There is something I want you to know and I pray you don’t think I am a pervert, but here goes: I am exclusively attracted to bigger women. There is just something about them that drives me wild but in a very good way. And if she has a pretty face like yours, I’m even more attracted. A skinny woman doesn’t have that effect on me. And a skinny woman wouldn’t ever make me happy but someone your size would make me the happiest man there is! I meant what I said when I told you how I think you’re beautiful and sweet. I won’t ever ghost you, but I will honor you and cherish you if you indeed let me! Please don’t ever ghost me either though. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and you have such a sweet and pure heart, that I want you even more now. I just hope this continues.”

A minute passed, then Ezra’s phone alerted him to another incoming message from Sadie. It read, “Oh, I don’t think you’re a pervert because you’re attracted to bigger women. Actually, I’m glad you are because you’re really cute and sweet and if you didn’t like bigger women you probably wouldn’t be talking to me right now, so it’s quite all right. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I know you’re falling for me and I will admit that I am falling for you as well, but I have to make sure you are right for me. I am indeed attracted to you physically and I think you are really sweet as well, but I need to know most of all that you are a Christian and that you are a humble gentleman. I’m almost sure that you are are the latter, but I need to make sure that you are also the former. If you indeed are, then you will have the keys to my heart. But I must know. Let me close by saying that I hope you are because I really do like you and I could see you making me happy. Please let me know.”

“Why don’t I call you and explain it to you? It would be easier to say it verbally than to write it all down.”

“Sure. I bet you have a cute voice.”

They then exchanged phone numbers.

Ezra then called Sadie.

“Hey you!” She answered.

“Hi,” Ezra said.

“Well tell me all you need to say.”

“Okay, here goes: I am indeed a Christian and have been since my teen years. There is something else you must know about me and that is I get disability. First I got it for being schizophrenic, which I got saved while I was recovering from my first mental breakdown. A family member presented The Gospel to me and I surrendered to it. Most of my family is Catholic, except for this family member, and I always noticed how he was closer to God than the rest of them, so I hung on to his every word. It was the best choice I ever made when I got saved! The medication I take for schizophrenia caused me to eventually become diabetic. I was heavy from my twenties until my early thirties then at age thirty-four, I lost the weight, mostly from strict dieting because of my diabetes. I allow the Lord to direct my paths and I acknowledge Him every step of the way. I would also be in a lot of trouble without Him. If you ever meet me, you will see that I carry a SwissGear backpack and a small Igloo cooler everywhere I go. I carry my medication and diabetic supplies, as well as a few cool personal gadgets in my backpack, and I have a few cans of soft drink as well as my insulin in the cooler.”

“I can tell that for sure that you are a Christian and I am immensely happy about that fact! I’m so sorry about your disabilities, but maybe they make you humble, or at least I think they do. Could you tell me about the other stuff you carry in your backpack? I hope it is all legal stuff.”

Ezra replied, “Well, some of the stuff I carry may not be legal in New York or California, but it is perfectly legal in the rural South. I have my tablet with its charger, a scanner radio also with its charger, a Leatherman multi-tool, a Swiss Army Knife, three different tactical flashlights one of them has a USB-C charger the other two run on disposable batteries, my Bible, two flash drives, a power bank, and a scientific calculator.”

“That’s neat. But why do you have three flashlights?”

“Well one is for general purpose lighting. The other has a regular white light but also a red light for use at night such as fishing or looking for worms or just looking around in a car while riding and not disturb the driver. The third one is for self-defense, it is very bright and has a strobe feature that can disorient an attacker then I can hit him in the head with the flashlight while he is disoriented. There’s a lot of crime in Louisiana and my psychiatrist won’t clear me for a concealed weapon permit, so I had to improvise. As you can see I like to be prepared.”

“My Daddy carried a Leatherman on him everywhere he went, but he willed it to me when he passed away.”

“What did he die of?”

“He was big like me and couldn’t get his blood pressure under control, so four, almost five years ago, the Sunday just after Black Friday, he was out hunting with the new rifle he had just purchased and had a stroke out in the woods. We have a scanner too and heard EMT’s talking about him on it. He died hours later at the hospital.”

“I’m so sorry and he seems like he would have been a good man.”

“Oh he was. Maybe he would have liked you.”

“What was he hunting for?”

“Wild hogs. He wanted to roast one for Christmas Dinner but had to work up until Christmas, so this was his only time off, until Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, that sounds delicious. What was his job?”

“He worked at a gun store and he loved to hunt in his free time.”

“If scanners upset you, I won’t play mine in front of you. I know it must be traumatic to hear one go off.”

“Well, that’s very sweet and thoughtful of you, but it doesn’t bother me.”

“What do you listen to on yours, anyway?”

“Mostly boat traffic. If that isn’t too active, I listen to the fire departments.”

“And why do you carry that Leatherman and Swiss Army Knife?”

“Just so I can help myself or others should the need arrive. It seems I am always using them to fix something at my church. I see them more as tools than weapons, and I do enjoy helping others.”

“Now you sound like my Daddy, but I like it.”

“I know you know that I am a Christian. I hope you think I am also a humble gentleman.”

“Yes. I do, but I just had to make sure you were first.”

“Yay.”

“You seem happy.”

“Well, the young lady of my dreams thinks I am a gentleman I would say that makes me happy!”

“So, since I am the young lady of your dreams, why don’t you make me yours?”

“How do you want me to do that?”

“Ask me, silly.”

“Okay, I need to know your full name first, so I can do this right.”

“It is Sadie Claire MacBride. What’s yours?”

“Ezra Lee Toussaint.”

“That’s a neat name.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, are you going to ask me?”

“Yes: Sadie Claire MacBride, will you be my girlfriend? I don’t have much to offer you, but I do promise to give you my time, my loyalty, and my affections!”

“Of course I will, and you’ve just made me a very happy lady, Ezra Lee Toussaint! I hope and pray that this is just the beginning!”

“It is just the beginning and I hope and pray that you are the one because I cannot picture anyone better!”

“I hope you are the one as well and I cannot wait to meet you in person!”

“How about we try to Thanksgiving week. I’ll save some money from when I paid on November 3rd.”

“Sure. But I’m too fat to drive myself so you’re going to have to come to me.”

“That’s fine. And don’t be so hard on yourself because I think you’re the most beautiful lady ever! Anyway, I have a 1985 Jeep Comanche, but it runs just as well as any truck made today. And I will gladly come to see you.”

“You’re so sweet and I think you’re the cutest man I’ve ever seen!”

“Thank you!”

“Hey, what time is it?”

Ezra looked at his G-Shock, then answered, “10:44.”

“I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning, so I need to get some sleep. I too have high blood pressure because of my weight. It’s under control, thanks to the medications, but I need routine monitoring.”

“You do get disability as well, or at least your profile says so.”

“Yes, I get my Daddy’s survivor’s benefits. I use them to pay me and my Momma’s bills and the utilities. The trailer and the land are paid for, thank God!”

“Yes. Thank God indeed.” Ezra paused then continued, “There is something I want to tell you tonight, and every night before we go to sleep.”

“What is it?”

“Good Night Tidings.”

“Okay.”

“Here goes: I wish I was in your presence to lovingly give you hugs and kisses goodnight, then gently tuck you into your bed. But I also pray that The Good Lord watches over both of us tonight and every night as we sleep. Finally I pray that we are together forever, because I only want you and no one else. Now, you get you some rest and I will take my medication.”

“That was very sweet and just know that I desire and pray for those very things as well!” Sadie paused then continued, “I will text you good morning and I will call you when I am out of my appointment. If you want we can spend some time then.”

“Okay. I will be waiting. I’ll probably be doing laundry tomorrow, but I’ll make time for you.”

“I know you will.”

“Okay, good night.”

“Good night.”

Ezra took his medicine then went to bed happier than ever.

Likewise Sadie went to bed filled with more joy than ever.

They dreamed about each other all night long…

Contact Me

Back to “Works of Fiction”

 

 

 

 

Post Modernism’s Influence on my Thinking and Writing

Post Modernism has heavily influenced my later writings, I think that is obvious. It was since my late teen years that I was first exposed to it and at least on the subconscious level, it began to inspire me and take root. It wouldn’t be until my early twenties that it had begun to shape my writing.

In this piece, I will try and describe, how Post Modernism has influenced and inspired my writing. I will try to explore in greater detail than before how I was inspired to write these two stories. I think you, the reader, will be shocked when you find out how far back the inspirations go. I will also touch on the fact that Post Modernism is indeed very much in conflict with my Christian faith.

However, when I allow them to coexist within my heart and mind, I can write some beautiful things. However, Post Modernism is dangerous in all matters concerning the soul and I will admit that until the cows come home. The reason why I find Post Modernism so dangerous to the soul is because it strongly teaches that there is no absolute truth. In fact, I often joke how the Roman Governor Pontius Pilate was the world’s first adherent of Post Modernism, when he asked Christ, “What is truth?” As referenced in the Bible, John 18:38. Pilate eventually went crazy and likely never got saved.

The stories I have written under the influence of postmodern thought were inspired by many external factors that occurred on both my conscious and subconscious levels. Some of these inspirations can be traced back to the Spring of 2005. While there were others, I think the one that stands out the most is my infamous “Grocer and Writer” stories, though I didn’t begin the actual writing of them until the evening of June 30, 2014, and I began writing its replacement, “A Disabled Electrician Turned Writer” in February of 2017.

In a high school Psychology class, back in the Spring of 2005, we were working on an assignment to describe a house and to exchange it with a classmate, but if I remember correctly not to identify yourself. I immediately thought of an older house in the suburbs of New Orleans and in that house is a young man cuddling in bed with his girlfriend. I don’t exactly remember how I wrote it, but I know it was in better detail than the simple mentioning of it in this piece. I know exactly what inspired me to write that, but I am not going to reveal it, because a lot of people in my immediate circle will be angered if I do. When I witnessed what I wrote, almost a year prior, you, the reader, could say I had been exposed to Post Modernism for the first time since an unmarried couple that was cuddling in bed was and likely having relations as well was considered a sin, but here I was exposed to it. The person whom I exchanged it with seemed irritated in her answer to what I wrote and while I remember her name well, I will not mention it. Even though I was on a terrible medication and not very creative at that point in my life, I could still think of stuff like this from time to time. However, the little I was writing at this point in my life was totally different and even old fashioned, compared to the very urbane nature of my stories that reflect postmodern American society, especially those in this piece.

Fast forward to December of 2005, I began writing an anti-Christian Cult story, known as “The Textfile.” I’m not knocking Christians except for a few sects that teach how one must speak in tongues to be saved. That very teaching caused great distress in me. However, I now know that it isn’t Biblical and is borderline blaspheming in my book. I was initially inspired to write it whilst walking around the Houma suburb of Bayou Cane, Louisiana, but also, I had recently watched, “The Notebook” on DVD. I completed it in May of 2006, but then erased it sometime in 2013. In 2017, I began rewriting it strictly from memory, though it too is much more urbane than the original. I completed the newer version in 2019. Throughout the Summer of 2006, I would exchange this story with plenty of people whom I either met in chat rooms or through Myspace. I got some differing reactions, some enjoyed it, some loathed it.

In August or September of 2006, someone read the original version of “The Textfile” then sent me a copy of his or her story known as “Perplexed Existence.” It was a Christian story, written in first person about an emo high schooler who works at a convenience store and has an alcoholic and pill addicted mother. He meets a young lady who leads him to Christ. I read it in one sitting with my undivided attention with no idea how it would inspire my own writing in the future both consciously and subconsciously. I don’t know if it was a true story or a work of pure fiction, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. Whomever the author was and I wish I could remember, but he or she was successfully able to combine Post Modernism with Christianity and did so better than I ever could.

In September of 2006, I was inspired to write a story about a young grocer and his relationship goals but didn’t write the first pieces of it until March of 2018. Throughout the rest of 2006 I was working quite a bit and didn’t have much time for writing, but still managed to do it now and then.

On January 7, 2007, I had met a girl and on that same day entered what seemed like a wonderful and very stable relationship with her, but years later it became quite toxic and finally terminated in 2018. I believe this relationship is also what made my writing more urbane and I quit writing with the old fashioned values my work initially possessed. Some of the people in her family could be seen as poster children of Post Modernism, but I won’t go into detail why because I am trying to make peace with the situation. Her family is influenced by Post Modernism and spreads that influence, in the way they carry themselves.

My writing was probably at its most filthy in the Summer of 2008 when I wrote something that was borderline pornographic about a couple that had met online. Let me say that I was a severely backslidden Christian who was not only writing such filthy literature but I was also fornicating and cohabitating. It was a young studly warehouse worker in Phoenix, Arizona who met a rich, lonely, slightly older but still young woman that lived in Salt Lake City Utah. They had cybersex, but then she invited him over to which he drove all night in his vintage Chevy Blazer and upon arrival, they did many kinky things both in her master bed/bathroom but also near the Great Salt Lake. At some point, after this, I promised The Lord and myself that I would never write anything pornographic again if I were to ever reference sexual intimacy in my writing, I would do so with taste and leave almost everything to the imagination from then on. I’d like to believe that I pretty much kept this promise, although I messed up a time or two. It was the Financial Collapse of 2008, that brought me out of my backslidden state. I started listening to shortwave to hear the rest of the world’s opinion on America and began to hear some Christian preaching as well. Ironically even a false Christian prophet played a role in getting me out of my severely backslidden state, as bizarre as that may sound. There was even a villain in one of my stories based on him.

I started attending church regularly in January of 2009 and attended that church until January of 2018. It was at this church where the ills of Post Modernism were first pointed out to me. I didn’t even know what Post Modernism was until I had attended there but then began to see it everywhere. This was both good and bad because it allowed me to get lots of inspiration for my writing, but also, I realized how bad a shape society is in and how far it fell from grace.

I finished trade school in November 2008 and went to work full time. In some of my free time, I would write. I purchased a small netbook in February of 2009, so I could write whenever I was on the go. I lost my job in September of 2009, due to a still crumbling economy. In October of 2009, I had taken a trip to the Esplanade Mall with my soon to be wife now ex-wife and was inspired to write a story about a teenaged couple at a strict and corrupt catholic high school. I stopped at a now-closed restaurant in Paradis, LA, where her family members were working and began writing some of it. They are suspended for public displays of affection. I called the story, iAffection. The boy comes from a well off family, but the girl and her mother are poor and she attends school on a voucher. I completed it some time in late 2009 or early 2010 and had revised it, but then did a little more work on it around 2019. However, this was my first story with the postmodern qualities and drew some inspiration from that story “Perplexed Existence”, but also the soap opera, “As the World Turns.”

On January 11, 2010, I started working for a God awful grocer and remained working there until September 23, 2011. This place inspired a good bit of my “Grocer and Writer” stories, that is for sure. Several characters were based on managers and coworkers from there, though I would write any of it until well after quitting. Also, around this time I had visited a young couple who was struggling financially and living in Paradis, LA. This moment would inspire a scene in “A Disabled Electrician Turned Writer.”

In the Summer of 2011, I began work on a dystopian story. It was about a teen couple in a forbidden romance because of the Nazi styled government in power. I had a dream back in February of 2003 which was the inspiration behind it. It was completed in the Summer of 2012. There are some postmodern elements to it. This story came to me in a dream I had quite possibly in the early morning hours of February 9, 2003, though it would take me another eight years to get it into text.

In February of 2012, I began writing “Radiant Affection”, which was initially supposed to be a form of repentance for writing “The Textfile.” I worked on it on and off until 2014, but I still contribute to it from time to time at the time of writing this piece. I know where to go with it, I just need to fill the gaps in between. This story doesn’t have the Post Modern element that the others do.

On June 30, 2014, after taking a trip with my parents and then-wife now ex-wife to the New Orleans area, I came home and was inspired to write what would be the beginning of my “Grocer and Writer” stories. As I’ve mentioned before, the New Orleans area has always been inspirational for my writing and it is inspirational to others in their respective forms of art. There is just something about it. Well, it takes place in New Orleans though not specifically mentioned in the stories themselves but little hints are left. The sins of fornication and cohabitation are committed in these stories, but my characters do repent and begin to plan marriage until one is murdered and the other dies of a broken heart. I wrote it initially from that day in 2014 until early 2016, when I felt as if I should write something that would not make the racial tension worse than it currently already was. While it reeks of Post Modernism, it also teaches that we all deserve to love and be loved, even despite appearance or disability.

So, in March of 2016, I began to write something that taught those similar values, but without all the racial and ethnic tension that was going on during the Obama years. It was about a train conductor and an aspiring writer who meet online in a writing forum. I didn’t get too far off the ground with it and eventually moved on to other things. Something else I wrote in 2015 and continued in 2016 was a teen drama known as “Those Years.” Both of these try to teach how everyone deserves to love and be loved. I didn’t get far enough with either story to have my characters commit any serious sins.

I had also taken quite a few trips to the New Orleans area throughout 2016, and just about every time, I drew at least some inspirations.

In February of 2017, I began writing another story, A Disabled Electrician turned Writer. It too takes place in the New Orleans area, though not exactly mentioned. I was inspired to write it by witnessing the lifestyles of those connected to my then in-laws now ex-in-laws. However, I wasn’t able to get that far with it. There are some sins of cohabitation and fornication that occur, but my characters do plan to repent. Like the others, it teaches that everyone deserves to love and be loved. I wrote it from 2017 to 2019, then went on hiatus.

In the Summer of 2017, I wrote, “Two Foamers in Love” but didn’t get very far with it. It is one of the least sinful stories influenced by Post Modernism; all sex occurs within wedlock and it is done discreetly. But you know what they say, right? Sex sells. Well, controversy in general sells. It is easier for me to write a sinful story than a wholesome one, a lot easier. God is dealing with me about this and has been for some time. Also, for whatever reason life seems more romantic before marriage than after. I don’t know if that is Post Modernism or just the human condition in general. Actually, there are some scriptures I could reference that deal with this subject and explain why married life isn’t as romantic as pre-married life and it is due to a curse put on humanity by God, to remind us that we are sinners in a fallen world.

In the early Spring of 2018, I began writing my “Relationship Goals of a Young Grocer” stories but didn’t get all that far with it. There is indeed some sin occurring, but still, I guess I was too distracted to focus on it. Well, I was going through a divorce and also trying to secure my own place of residence. Later in the Spring of 2018, April 16, to be exact, I wrote “An Autumn Squall Line” about an impoverished couple riding out a severe thunderstorm in a shotgun house in Uptown New Orleans. In the original version, they were cohabitating, but on August 11, 2018, I changed it to a married couple, though still quite impoverished. Around this time was when God began to deal with me about writing such sinful literature.

In the Fall of 2018, I wrote “Love Among Terrorism” which was dedicated to me and my then-girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend. There was no cohabitation nor fornication, just a terrorist attack and a couple worried about each other.

Throughout 2019, I had added pieces to many of the aforementioned series of stories. I also completed the new version of “The Textfile.”

In the last days of 2019, I went through a breakup, but then began writing a new Post Modern influenced story, with equal Christian influence known as “Second Chances.” I am going to try my durn well best not to let my characters sin, though they do spend an innocent Christmas Eve together and cuddle all night long. Like the others, it takes place in the New Orleans area. By this point, even my Post Modern influenced writing had evolved.

In early 2020, before this Coronavirus was an issue in The States, I began writing a new series known as “Bohemian America.” It takes place in New York City and the surrounding area, but there are references to Louisiana. Yes, there are some sexual sins, but only by a couple who is in love and does desire marriage, one of the members of that couple are triracial, and I wrote that to atone for previous works I had done that likely contributed to the racial tension in America. Again I was just inspired by all that I was observing, so can you, the reader, blame me? I sure hope not! I’ve only publically displayed a piece of it that doesn’t show the sinning.

While I have written plenty of factual works during this Coronavirus pandemic, I haven’t written any fiction to say fiction. It’s like a partial writer’s block has set in. Of course, I hadn’t been drinking my Wild Cherry Pepsi like I usually do, something which usually fuels my creativity. When life gets back to normal, hopefully, I’ll start writing fiction again and resume my “Second Chances” stories as well as “Bohemian America.”

Yes, intimacy is referenced in much of my Post Modern influenced writing but it is overwhelmingly done with taste and not in a pornographic fashion as was the case in 2008.

So, yes, Post Modernism has influenced my thinking since about 2004/2005 but didn’t start showing up in my writing until 2009 and not fully realized until 2014.

Yes, it makes good writing, but is in conflict with Christianity and certainly does not honor God, so likewise if I am going to continue writing with Post Modern influence, I’ll need God’s help to not allow it to be sinful.

Of course, if you, the reader, are a Christian, then I covet your prayers.

I guess this, therefore, concludes the piece on how Post Modernism has influenced my writing over the years and I hope you, the reader, have been informed, enlightened and maybe even entertained…

Back to “Personal Reflections”

An Excerpt from “Bohemian America”

I began writing this in the final days of February 2020.  I was inspired to write it by listening to NPR and later, I took a long bath and it started coming to me.  It is about a young violinist named Alexandra Barbu who chance meets and subsequently falls in love with a tortured visual artist named Carlisle Snowden.  They are both troubled, but somehow they manage to bring out the best in each other.  I haven’t gotten that far with it and there are many parts that I cannot publically show with a good conscience.  However, the story of how they meet is quite appropriate so I will be sharing it in this piece.

Here is it without further ado:

…Alexandra rolled her eyes and then left with her uncle.

They walked out of the abandoned building and into his single cab older GMC truck.

“I know that those in your band smoke that dope. I better not find out that you smoke dope or I will kick you out of my house.”

“No, I don’t smoke dope. I’m already fat and if I smoke dope, I’ll likely get fatter and have wrinkles as well.”

“Well, the fact that you are fat means you will never make it in the music industry. So you should go back to school or get a real job like everyone else.”

Alexandra was getting angry, but kept calm and concealed it, saying, “I don’t know, what about Meghan Trainor?”

“I never heard of her,” Her uncle replied.

“That figures, otherwise you wouldn’t have made that ignorant statement.”

“Watch that attitude young lady, you will never be too old for me to backhand you.”

“That’s where you are wrong. If you lay a single finger on me, I will press charges.”

“How dare you! You are riding in my vehicle and staying under my roof and you would press charges on me after all your aunt and I did for you.” There was a tense silence but then he continued, “You know what, give me your money, you owe me for food and rent!”

“I need that money to keep my phone turned on so I can keep in touch with my band,” Alexandra protested.

“Well, that’s too bad. Now give me your money or you can find somewhere else to stay.”

“You’re such a jerk!”

“No, you just need a dose of reality, big time! Now give me your money…”

“I’ll speak to my aunt first,” Alexandra said, pulling out her phone.

“If you call her you can get out right now.”

“Then put me down right here. I’ve had enough of you anyway.”

“Fine, have it your way. Now get out!”

Alexandra unbuckled her seat belt, opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Her uncle then flung her violin in its case out the door then said, “And take that stupid instrument with you!”

An artist was standing on the sidewalk painting a portrait of children playing in the sunset and the flying violin knocked down his easel and ruined his painting.

The artist shouted sarcastically, “Thanks a lot you big stupid jerk!”

Alexandra’s uncle sped away.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Drive off like the coward you are.” The artist shouted again.

The artist had a look of crushing defeat on his face.

He sat on the steps of his building in a semi fetal position and rocked himself back and forth.

Alexandra walked up to him and said, “I’m so sorry and you are right he is indeed a jerk and a coward.” She set the easel upright then picked up the brushes and jars of paint.

An elderly black lady came outside and said, “Carlisle, I heard you shouting what happened, baby?”

Alexandra spoke up and told her, “It’s partially my fault, ma’am. My uncle was driving me to his house but we had an argument and he kicked me out of his truck. He then threw my violin out as well and it knocked this young man’s easel down and ruined his painting.”

“Well, I’m going to have to call the police then, people can’t just be abandoning minors on a city street.”

“But, I’m not a minor. I’m actually twenty-going-on-twenty-one,” Alexandra said, then continued, “But I do, however, have no place to go.”

The artist spoke, “Wow, I thought I had issues. I’m very blessed compared to you! My name is Carlisle Snowden by the way.”

“You are blessed, Carlisle and your blessings will continue as long as you be a blessing to others. Just remember to keep taking that medicine, keep letting your light of kindness shine to others around you and keep painting those beautiful pictures!” The elderly black lady said.

“It’s nice to meet both of you, I’m Alexandra Barbu.”

The elderly black lady answered her, “You can call me Mother Nellie. I look out for the whole neighborhood and I pray for everybody.” She paused and then said, “Something tells me there was a reason that both of you met.”

Carlisle’s face grew very serious as he looked at her and said, “Mother Nellie, if you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, I believe Alexandra is a bit too young for me.”

“Child, age is just a number. Besides, I know how lonely you are and how you’ve been praying that the Lord send you someone special. She just might be the answer to your prayers! I know you’re one of the few white men in the neighborhood and she is also white. I’m very aware of the racial tension that exists, so I think you and her would be perfect together! While I think mixed babies are beautiful, I know they receive a lot of ill-treatment in this cruel world.”

“You don’t look that old anyway,” Alexandra said.

“I just made thirty-four,” Carlisle replied.

“Wow. I thought you would have been twenty-two or twenty-three, twenty-five, tops. I mean, you are very cute!”

“Well, thanks. I get that a lot. But, see, I’m probably too old for you.”

“What if I told you that I’m very mature for a twenty-going-on-twenty-one-year old and I do like older guys?!”

“I don’t know. You are very pretty and you seem sweet, but I have a lot of reverence for you and…”

“You’re making me blush! It’s a good thing though if you have reverence for me, that means you would treat me well.”

“Yes, that’s true, I suppose.”

“We also have a lot in common, I mean we’re both artists in our own respects. I bet I could play my violin while you paint and inspire you to create some beautiful portraits or I could study your previous paintings and be inspired to play some beautiful music.”

“Come to think of that, as Mother Nellie said, I have been praying that the Lord send me a significant other, and I would want my relationship with her to have exactly those attributes. Maybe age is just a number after all.”

“Well, duh, silly!” Alexandra replied, then continued soberly, “But am I too fat for you, though?”

“As I said before, I think you’re very pretty, weight included! And more importantly, you have a beautiful heart and a brilliant mind!”

“You’re making me blush even more, but I feel so giddy!”

“I can see you blushing and I think it’s adorable! I’d like to kiss you where you are blushing, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds.”

“Aw, that is so sweet. By the way, you wouldn’t be overstepping your bounds. I’d want you to kiss me. In fact, come here and kiss me right now!”

Carlisle walked off the steps and onto the sidewalk.

Mother Nellie said, “I’ll leave you two alone.” She then went inside.

Alexandra grabbed Carlisle then pulled him to her. She wrapped her arms around him and placed her hands on his buttocks. Carlisle gently held Alexandra by her love handles then kissed both her cheeks. She smiled sweetly, then closed her eyes and pecked him on the lips. He pecked her lips in return. Their lips then locked and their mouths sucked and pressed on each other. Then Alexandra buried her face in Carlisle’s chest and he kissed her forehead.

The sun began to set and the Mercury began to drop.

Carlisle and Alexandra began to shiver.

“I can take you up to my apartment if you wish,” Carlisle said.

“Of course. Where else would I go?”

“I’m just making sure. You know I revere you.”

“I know. You’re very sweet!”

Carlisle then picked up his art supplies and opened the building entrance door for Alexandra…

Contact Me

Back to “Works of Fiction”

An Experiment on The Sub-Conscious Mind

Yes, I am a Christian.

BUT, I do believe in some aspects of Psychology, because while it is in conflict with a lot of Biblical priniciples and also makes excuses for sinful behavior, it does possess some immuteable truths.

One truth of Psychology I believe in is the existence of the sub-conscious mind.

So, here is an experiment:

Can you tell me which country song inspired this story?

I’ll give one hint: It has been covered numrerous times…

If you can correctly guess the answer, my belief in the sub-conscious mind will be strongly enforced

Please write your answer in the comment section. You don’t need to say the artist, it was covered quite a few times but definitely say the song title.

By the way, this is an edited piece from my infamous “Grocer and Writer” stories.

Without further ado, here it is:

…”All right, let me just get a few things.” I tell the policeman. He walks to the next house. My neighbors are going to freak when they see him.

“Where could we go?” My girlfriend asks me, “I don’t want to be with my mom.”

“If you don’t want to go there, we can go to the country and visit my family.”

“Are you sure?”

“What other choice do we have?”

“True.”

So I grab, my composition books and my flash drive, my rechargeable flashlight, my phone and charger. My girlfriend grabs her purse, phone and charger as well. God it’s cold. I hope my car can make it out of this wretched city. All I have is a wing and a prayer.

We walk out of my house, locking the doors behind us. Then we walk through my front yard and to the curb then shut the hurricane fence. We get in my car and thankfully it fires right up.

I tune my car radio to the news and information station. My theory is proven correct; this was a terrorist attack. Contraflow is being used on all of the main highways out of the city. Right now it’s bumper to bumper, I hope and pray the terrorists don’t strike again right here. I must get off this Interstate as soon as I can and take an alternate route. That way, there’ll be less traffic and less chance of another attack.

There is a heavy police presence but I guess that is a good thing. I hope and pray that they are not harmed by those damn terrorists.

For forty five minutes the traffic moves like molasses in the dead of winter. She rests her head on my shoulder and I repeatedly kiss her forehead. We are making the best of a bad situation. Finally we are now moving.

“Once we get out of the city, I should get us some coffee and food. I need something to keep me awake.”

“Sure, do what you need to do.”

We are now out of the city and on the Interstate. Thank God, the traffic is now moving. Just as planned though, I will get off.

I see an exit to a dark, but well maintained highway two lane. Right away I take it.

“Looks like we are safe now, but why are you getting off right here?” My girlfriend asks.

“Because, I don’t want to take the chance of someone wrecking or breaking down. If that happens, traffic will back up and the terrorists could possibly strike again.” I reply.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Look, I am trying my best. You must know that I am just trying to get us out of harm’s way.”

“I guess.” She says with irritation.

“Let’s not fight, if we do the terrorists have another victory.”

“Yes, thank God we weren’t away from each other when this happened.”

“You’re right! I would rather die with you than live and us be apart!”

“I love you so much!”

“And I love you too, baby!”

“How much longer from here?”

“About four hours.”

“That’s fine.”

“Yes, I just hope and pray my car won’t break down.” I reply.

“What’s your family like?”

“Let’s just say interesting.”

“I hope they will accept me but I’m afraid of what they will think of my mom’s pill habit.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll accept you. They always wanted me to find love and now I have because of you. They just might tease you about being from the city.”

“What about the pills? Would they judge me about that?”

“No, they won’t. My family has always taught me that no one is perfect and that we all have faults. Plus, you’re not the addict; your mom is.”

“What’s your hometown like?” She asks.

“Boring, flat and quiet. I guess that is a good thing at the moment. It’s not an important place, so the terrorists wouldn’t try to strike there.”

“So you think we’ll be safe there?”

“Yes, there is only a two-lane highway in and out of town and there are no waterways, railroads are airstrips. It’s nothing a terrorist would want to hit.”

“You should call your parents first, to let them know you are coming.” She tells me.

“You’re right. I was going to, but you know I should conserve my minutes, especially for my job.” I reply.

“I don’t think you will be returning to work for a while and, to me, that’s a very good thing. Besides, you can use my phone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I love you and would do anything for you.”

“Oh, I love you too baby! Thank you so much.”

She turns her phone on and I call out the ten digits. She then puts the speaker phone feature on and we hear the ringing.

“Hello.” My mother answers, half asleep.

“Hey, momma it’s me. There has been a terrorist attack in my city and I am headed your way. Put the news on, you’ll hear all about it.” I reply.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. I am fine, but I have someone special with me.”

“Whom do you have?”

“My girlfriend. I will explain everything when we arrive.”

“Okay, be careful.”

“I sure will.”

“How much longer until you’ll be here?”

“If everything goes right, about four to five hours. As soon as we find a truck stop, I will get some, food and coffee to keep me awake.”

“Okay, you drive safe and I will see you then. I can’t wait to meet this lovely young lady.”

Suddenly the signal fades out.

“Momma, can you hear me?” “Durn it.”

“Your mom seems nice.”

“Oh, she is very nice. I wish I could see her more.”

“It’s a good thing she is not like my mom.”

“The worst she does is take a shot of whiskey every now and then. It’s only to help her sleep.”

I continue to drive. It is cold and dark. The heater is working well for the most part. My girlfriend snuggles next to me and we keep warm.

I see a truck stop sign ahead, so activate my turn signal. We get off the highway, then pull into the parking lot.

We drive up to a pump, then go inside to pay the cashier.

My girlfriend pulls out her debit card and says “Let me pay. My dad deposited grocery money in my account, but I think we need gas more than groceries right now.”

“Thank you so much, baby! I wish I could repay you!”

My girlfriend replies “It’s the least I can do.” The she tells the cashier, “Forty Dollars on pump five.”

The young cashier says, blushing “Y’all are so cute.” She then runs my girfriend’s card.

We go out to pump the gas, then come back after we’re done. I desperately need food and coffee, so I ask the cashier, “Is your restaurant open?”

“Well, we were going to close, but could sure use the business.” She pauses then calls the waitress. “There are some customers, don’t shut down just yet.”
We walk into the diner and the waitress greets us.

“What’ll it be?” She asks.

I look at my girlfriend and say “Tell her.”

“I would like some strawberry pancakes if that’s all right.”

“Sure. And for you?”

“Whatever sandwich you can make. And coffee-lot’s of it.”

“Where are y’all from?”

“The city south-east of here. There was a terrorist attack and we are refugees.”

“A terrorist attack?” She asks.

“Yes. Turn your TV on. You’ll learn all about it.” I tell her.

“Can’t. Cable’s out.” She replies.

“Well, these radical extremists, purposely derailed a train right where the transmission lines cross the tracks. That caused a chemical release and the power in most of the city is out.”

“Good Lord, that’s awful.”

“Yes. And it’s her eighteenth birthday.” I tell the waitress.

The waitress looks at my girlfriend and says “Well since it is your birthday, y’all both eat free. Y’all have seen enough hell for tonight and it’s the least we can do.”

“Thank you so much; I surely appreciate that.” I tell her.

“Yes, y’all are both welcome. Just tell any travelers about this place when you can.”

“I just hope and pray that you’ll get more refugee customers coming from the city, but most are probably on the Interstate. I took a back road so we wouldn’t be caught in all that traffic.”

My girlfriend and I happily eat and converse with the waitress and then we get coffee to go.

“Here’s a thermal mug with our company name on it. Tell everyone you can about us.” The waitress says.

“I sure will.” I tell her.

“Come back if you’re ever passing through again and we’ll take care of y’all.”

We leave the truck stop and get back on the highway. I am now awake and alert thanks to the free coffee. My girlfriend is sleeping on my shoulder. I hold her with my right arm and the wheel with my left. Three and a half hours before I am in my home town…

I see plenty of yellow lines and reflectors and at least my car is running smoothly. Finally I see the junction and turn to go into town.

I pull into my parents’ driveway. We step out of the car and I ring the doorbell. My Momma greets us…

 

Now, that you have read this piece, think for a moment and see if you know which country song inspired this piece.  Take a guess if you have to…

Home

An Excerpt from “A Disabled Electrician turned Writer”

I began working on this series of stories back in February of 2017.  There are parts that I won’t show publically because of the sinning involved.  However, I feel that this particular excerpt teaches a decent lesson.  Ultimately I wrote this as a less offensive offshoot to my “Grocer and Writer” stories.

Without further ado, here it is:

 

I get helped out a lot, so I believe I should help others when I can. My elderly and widowed neighbor, Mrs. Angela Fulton just called me to come over and set up her new Weather Radio. It is only mid-May, but it seems as if Hurricane Season is getting an early start. The local TV news station reported earlier today that Tropical Storm Alidore is potentially headed towards our city and is also forecast to become a hurricane.

So, with that, I walk out my front door and engage the deadbolt. Then I walk across my porch, down my steps and leave my yard, locking my hurricane fence behind me. I go to the house adjacent mine, walk up the steps and knock on the front door.

Soon enough, Mrs. Angela answers and lets me in.

“The weather radio is in my kitchen; I’ll go get it. Just make yourself at home,” She tells me.

“Sure thing, Mrs. Angela,” I tell her.

There is also a beautiful young lady whom I have never seen before sitting on the sofa in the living room. I glance at her. She has a look of distress on her face, but then, wait, now she’s smiling at me. I smile back.

Mrs. Angela then walks back into her living room with her newly purchased Weather Radio, still in its package.

She hands it to me.

I take my Klein Electrician’s Knife from my pocket and cut open the blister packaging. Afterward, I skim the manual. The radio is a Midland EH55VP. I’m impressed by the specs so I think I’ll buy myself one as well.

After I finish skimming the manual, I ask Mrs. Angela, “Where do you want me to plug the charger in?”

“By my bed would be fine, ” She replies, then walks me to her bedroom.

I shine my Mini Maglite behind Mrs. Angela’s bed to locate the electrical socket.  Once it is found I plug the new Weather Radio in.

While programming the FIPS code into the radio, I ask Mrs. Angela in a whispering voice, “Who’s that pretty girl in your living room?”

“That’s Annabelle Jenkins. She lives in the apartment complex two streets over.”

“I’ve never seen her before. How do you know her?”

“I drove her over here because her mother left her in the parking lot at Melinda’s Superstore.”

“Isn’t she worried about catching a child abandonment charge.”

“No, the girl is eighteen.”

“Wow! I can’t get over how pretty she is.”

“Well, I think it’s terrible that a mother would abandon her own offspring, especially since a hurricane might be coming this way,” Mrs. Angela pauses for a second, then continues, “You should go talk to her. Who knows? Y’all might make a nice couple. I know you must be lonesome.”

“Yes, but I’m twenty-five. What would I have in common with her?”

“Age is just a number. My husband, God rest his soul, was seven years older than me. We loved each other like there was no tomorrow and I still terribly miss him to this day.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I could be like that with her, marriages like that are pretty much non-existent these days.”

“You’ll never know unless you try. That’s why most marriages of today fail, no one tries hard enough.”

“And those that do try hard, many times get their hearts broken.”

“Now come on, I see you in that house all by yourself all day long. I know you must be lonely there. Here you could have a potential for love and companionship. Don’t let this girl be the one that got away.”

“I guess you’re right. ”

“Of course. When you get as old as me, you know quite a few things about life.”

I finish setting up the weather radio and place it on her night table.

“All done.”

“Good. Now go talk to her.”

“Sure. But what should I say?”

“I’ll help you out, Johnny.”

So, we both walk back into the living room. I go to sit in the recliner when Mrs. Angela says, “Why don’t you sit on the sofa give this old lady her rocker?”

“Sure thing,” I say, awkwardly, then go sit next to the girl.

She smiles at me again. I smile back.

Mrs. Angela continues, “I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce y’all to each other: Annabelle, this is Johnny Joseph Elder. Johnny this is Annabelle Jenkins.”

We look at each other and awkwardly but sweetly smile.

Mrs. Angela then asks Annabelle, “So what exactly were you and your mother arguing about that she left you in the parking lot?”

Annabelle replies, “We were going to make groceries at Melinda’s and I told her I needed her to buy me a phone card for my Go Phone to turn my service back on. I then told her that I also needed a flash drive so I could type my term paper. She told me to buy them myself. I told her that I had no money because her stupid boyfriend took my money from me to buy pills. Then it all erupted and she left me in the parking lot. My term paper is due tomorrow and if I don’t turn it in, I don’t graduate.”

I gently put my hand on Annabelle’s and say, “I can get you a phone card and a flash drive if you want. I was going to Melinda’s anyway, to buy a weather radio. I thought Mrs. Angela’s one was cool so I’m going get one for myself-especially since there might be a hurricane coming.”

Mrs. Angela looks at Annabelle and says, “Why don’t you walk with him to the store. He’s a really good guy and, by the way, he couldn’t stop saying how he thinks you’re pretty!”

Annabelle, looks at me, smiles and asks, “Do you really think I am pretty.”

I nod with a bold blush and a wide grin.

She smiles back, then asks, “And you’d really buy those things for me?”

“Sure. Unless you have a boyfriend. It might make him angry if I did such a thing.”

“No. I’m single. Look how fat I am! Who would want me?”

“Well, I think your weight compliments your appearance.”

Annabelle smiles and blushes slightly, but then says, “Everyone at school harasses me because of my weight.”

“Don’t worry about them, high school students are so cruel sometimes. But once you graduate, none of them will matter ever again.”

“Well, I won’t graduate unless I write and turn in that paper.”

“Then, by all means, let’s go to the store and get some supplies.”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Y’all have a good time.” Mrs. Angela interjects.

We step up from the sofa then walk out of Mrs. Angela’s front door, down her steps, out of her front yard, then on the sidewalk and walk for a block to Melinda’s Massive Superstore.

As we are walking, Annabelle asks me, “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m on disability, but before that, I was an electrician’s helper. I never refuse any work that I’m actually capable of, though, and I try to help anyone whenever I can.”

“Oh, well that’s very kind of you, but how did you become disabled?”

“I was connecting the power to an outside air conditioning unit when I got shocked, lost my balance and fell eight feet and landed back first on top of a picket fence. The impact of the injury ruined my back.”

“Wow. I’m sorry that happened.”

“Well it is a blessing in disguise, I guess. You see, I’m still able to pay the mortgage and my bills, plus I have a lot of free time to do what I truly like which is writing.”

“I like to write too.”

“Neat. I’d like to read your work if that’s all right with you.”

“Only if you let me read yours.”

“I would let you see some of my stories, but others get a little steamy. I wouldn’t dare show them to a lady like you.”

“I might like the steamy ones even more though.”

“I have to make sure you are eighteen though, right. Mrs. Angela says you are.”

“Yes. Since April Fourth of this year.”

“Okay, I guess I can show them to you then.”

“How old are you though,” She asks me.

“I made twenty-five on January Twenty Seventh. I hope you don’t think I’m too old because I really do like you.”

“Nah, age is just a number. Besides, you’re cute, you’re sweet and you’re taking care of me. Anyway, who else would want me?”

“So I guess you like me too?”

“Yes. I do. A lot of guys I know are either too immature or just total jerks. However, you, somehow, seem different.”

“I feel like I’m on cloud nine.”

“Me too.”

Awkwardly we hug, then begin to hold each others’ hands as we walk into Melinda’s Massive Superstore.

“Will you be able to pay for my items as well as your weather radio? I mean you are on a fixed income.”

“Sure, that’s no problem. I have a revolving credit account over here. Besides, it’s for  things we need.”

We walk to the household merchandise section and I select a Midland EH55VP weather radio and a San Disk 16 GB flash drive. Then we walk to the front of the store and I select a Go Phone Refill Card. Afterward, we get in line to check out.

The cashier says as she smiles at me, “Johnny, you finally have a girlfriend. Y’all look so cute together.”

Annabelle and I smile at each other, then hug each other gently.

The cashier then looks at Annabelle and she says, “He’s a keeper, so treat him right and don’t break his heart.”

“Yes, I can tell he’s a keeper and he’s cute as can be,” Annabelle says.

I blush, then tell the cashier my account number and she charges the items to it.

We are handed our items, then go sit down in the food court.

She adds the credit from the Go Phone card to her AT&T plan, holds up her smartphone, a Samsung Galaxy Express 3, points it at me and says, “Since I am your girlfriend, I would like your phone number.”

“Of course,” I say, then call it out to her. She instantly programs it into her phone.

Then I say, “I want yours as well.”

“Of course, silly. I was hoping you’d ask me.”

She then calls it out and I program it into my phone, a Samsung Rugby 4.

We pick up our phones and purchased items, then leave the store happily.

“Well I guess I have to go type my paper now,” Annabelle says.

“Do you want to use my computer?”

“Good idea. I might be able to actually write the paper and not hear all the drama from my mom and her boyfriend.”

“Then let’s head to my house.”

She smiles, takes my hand and says, “Lead the way.”

We walk the block then arrive.

I unlock my hurricane fence, then we enter my yard. We walk up the steps onto the porch, then to my front door where I unlock the deadbolt.

I show her around my house saying, “Here it is. It’s not much but at least it’s mine.”

She looks around then sees the computer in my bedroom. Awkwardly, we simultaneously stare at my bed, then smile at each other, blushing.

“I guess I’ll get to work,” Annabelle says.

I start my computer up and log in, then hand her my swivel chair.

“Then I’ll set up my new weather radio and watch T.V. Afterwards I’ll prepare dinner for us. All I have is oatmeal because I didn’t defrost anything, but I can make it taste really good. That is if indeed you want to stay for dinner.”

“That’s fine. It’s much better than having to hear my mom and her boyfriend complain about how they have to buy all of my meals.”

“Well, I’m glad I have someone to buy meals for.”

Annabelle sweetly hugs me and our faces meet. We share a soft loving kiss then hug once more.

“I’m sorry, did I overstep my bounds by kissing you,” I ask her.

“No, it was very sweet of you,” She replies, then continues, “Now let me type my paper, then we can spend some time together.”

“All right. I’ll let you get to work.”

I head for the doorway and she blows me another kiss, then begins writing her paper. I cut my weather radio out of the blister packaging with Klein Electrician’s knife then set it up on my kitchen gadgets rack, near the front porch window. Afterward, I go into my living room, turn on my T.V. and adjust the antennas to watch the five o’clock news. There are numerous correspondents reporting how Tropical Storm Alidore is almost at hurricane strength and headed straight for our city. They are saying that a Watch will likely be issued at ten o’clock tonight. When the local news is finished I scan the channels on my T.V. for a while and eventually watch two reruns of MacGyver on the Me-TV sub-channel.

After the shows are over, I prepare some store brand oatmeal with White Gold sugar, store brand half ‘n’ half and McCormick Pure Vanilla Extract. When I’m done preparing dinner I walk to my bedroom. Annabelle is finishing up her term paper. She saves it to her flash drive and also on my hard drive.

We walk to the dining room. I serve the oatmeal then we say grace and eat.

After we finish eating, she offers to help me wash the dishes.

As we finish up the dishes, she asks, “Could we read some of your stories?”

“Yes, I would like that.”

We both walk to my computer and I pull up the folder with all my stories. I’m about to read to her when the alert function on my weather radio goes off from the kitchen. Seconds later her phone also goes off. We both get messages of a Hurricane Watch in effect.

“Should I walk you home to your mom’s?”

“Nah. She and her boyfriend will probably be on edge.”

“I would let you stay in my spare bedroom, but it’s totally up to you.”

“I guess I could. At least I will get a good night’s sleep instead of hearing my mom and her boyfriend, plus all the neighbors arguing.”

“Say no more; I’ll prepare the extra bed for you.”

“Thanks.”

I then go into my spare bedroom and pull back the covers on the bed. Then I turn the window unit to the coldest setting to get the room comfortable for Annabelle to sleep.”

After I walk back into my bedroom and Annabelle says, “Just walk me to the bus stop by my apartment complex in the morning, and I’ll board the bus from there.”

“Good, then I’ll go get some storm supplies from Melinda’s while you’re in school.”

“All right. I’ll call you during my bus ride home and you can meet me when I get off the bus at the complex. I might get a few days off from school and we can be together during that time.”

“That sounds great.”

“Now, since that’s settled why don’t we go back to reading your stories. I can’t wait to see them.”

“I wish I could see yours as well.”

“You can. I have them on a Micro SD card on my smartphone.”

“Great, so I’ll read one of my stories to you, then you’ll read one of your stories to me.”

We begin to read to each other, taking turns.

She writes beautifully, but what’s even more amazing is, she writes very much like me.

So I tell her, “We write very much alike. I always wanted to meet someone who wrote like me.”

“Yes, and you remind me of the good characters in my stories. It’s as if you came into existence just from what I wrote,” She pauses then says “Do you think you could read me one of your more steamy stories?”

“Well, I guess.”

“Don’t be shy.”

“Okay, here goes nothing,” I say then select the file and I read to her.

She stares intently at me and with great focus, smiling from ear to ear.

I keep on reading until I’m finished.

“Would it be all right if I took a bath? I need to be clean for school.”

“Sure. Let me get you a towel and a washcloth.”

I grab them from my utility room and open a fresh bar of soap and hand it to her. She winks at me then goes into my bathroom and turns on the water. I sit in my living room and scan the channels on my TV set. After an hour she comes out covered in a towel.

I am overcome by her beauty, but quickly I regain my composure.

“I guess I’ll go to sleep now,” Annabelle says.

“Sure thing,” I reply.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?”

“If you want me to.”

“Of course I do, Johnny. I want that and so much more,” Annabelle says, then embraces me strongly. We share several kisses then she goes into my spare bedroom and gets dressed.

I go into my bedroom barely able to sleep because a beautiful young lady is under my roof. Finally, I doze off and dream many dreams about her…

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An Excerpt from my “Grocer and Writer” Stories

I’ve ultimately decided that my “Grocer and Writer” Stories in their entirety were too sinful and offensive to display publically.  So, I took them down.

However, there is one piece from those said stories that is pure and innocent enough to publically share without offending God or others.

That piece is the piece detailing how my two characters meet each other.

I feel that I can teach many good things if I put that piece on display.

So, without further ado, here it is:

 

The Young Man’s Perspective:

I sit alone on a park bench and write in my composition book. Creating love stories somehow fulfills my life and I firmly believe that doing so will bring good to me someday, I can almost feel it. There is something about how the Autumn sky, cold weather, and my unique surroundings all set the perfect mood for being creative. I am deeply focused on my work and know I should get as much of it done as possible. Today I am off, but tomorrow I have to be putting up grocery stock at seven o’clock in the morning. It will be long and grueling hours, so writing these stories is my only escape from that cold hard reality. Suddenly, a cute young lady walks by. She looks at me and smiles. I smile back, then resume my writing. She walks away for a little while but, then, wait, she’s pacing up and down the cement path near me. I can’t help but adore her as she repeatedly passes by-she is so beautiful. I now realize that we were the only two human beings in the park, everyone else is enjoying Thanksgiving with their families. I look up at her and she smiles sweetly.

“Hi,” She says.

“Hello,” I reply.

“Could I sit with you?”

“Sure, I guess.”

Smiling, even more, she continues, “You’re cute.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Do you think I am also cute or am I too fat?”

“I think you’re very beautiful and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Good. You make me feel special!”

There’s a very brief silence, but then I have an escalating concern, so I say, “I’m very happy that you want to sit with me, but don’t you have a family to go home to?”

“I do, but my parents are fighting like cats and dogs and Thanksgiving was canceled.”

“That is awful. I am so sorry you have to go through that,” I reply, then awkwardly hug her, just in an attempt to give her comfort.

She looks at me, then asks, “What about you? Don’t you have any family?”

“I do, but they’re all far away from me. I can’t afford to travel to them and they can’t afford to travel to me.”

“Do you work?”

“Yes. I’m a stocker at The Downtown Grocer, it’s a God awful job. I can do so much better if only I had the chance.”

“How can you do better?”

“With this,” I show her my composition book and continue, “I am trying to become established as a writer.”

“Let me read.”

“Sure,” I say, then hand my book to her.

She begins to read and is smiling from ear to ear.

“These are beautiful, I love them. Could I borrow your pen?”

“What for?”

“I want to write something for you,” She says, blushing.

“Here you go,” I say, then give her my pen.

She is smiling brightly as she writes, then she shows me. It’s a ten digit number.

“That is for you.”

I too am blushing, but then I ask, “How old are you, anyway?”

“It’s impolite to ask a girl her age, but that’s all right because I think you are nice. You’re cute, too, but I told you that already.”

“So, I will re-state my question; how old are you?”

“I’m seventeen; if you must know.”

“You’re young.”

“I may be young, but you seem like a sweet guy.” Now she gave me a peck on my cheek.

“You know I am twenty-two and I can get in plenty of trouble.”

“Wow, I thought you were my age. I still like you, though.” There is a brief pause, but then she continues “You don’t have to worry about getting in trouble because I won’t make you do anything illegal.”

“Are you asking me out?” I ask.

“Yes.” She humbly replies, blushing.

There’s an awkward silence now; but then she asks again, “So, will you be mine?”

I stare at her for just a moment. She looks at me as if she would cry. I see a potential for love and companionship, but I also see the potential for legal trouble. She’s continuing to stare longingly at me and I am beginning to look at her with affection as well. I want to make her happy because no one else has ever paid this kind of attention to me before. Here’s a girl who enjoys my writing and for some reason or another has fallen for me, albeit unusually quickly. No other women or girls were ever interested in me, because of my personal quirks constant awkwardness. She seems to see past them. Finally an opportunity to love and be loved!

I will tell her. I must tell her, “Yes. I’ll be yours because love knows no numbers. Forgive me for making you wait, I’m just nervous that’s all.”

“Don’t worry; I forgive you. Just know that you don’t have to be nervous around me.”

“I’ll try not to be.”

She’s joyfully smiling and kissing me with passion. I kiss her in return.

“Could I have your phone number as well?” She asks me.

“Sure,” I reply, then call it out.

Instantly; she programs it into her phone and kisses me again. I program hers into my phone as well. We sit on the park bench for hours and I read to her. I know she will give me plenty of inspiration for some time to come, maybe even forever. Finally, the sun begins to set and the Mercury begins to drop.

I ask her with concern “Shouldn’t you be home?”

“I guess. Could you walk me home?”

“I’ll drive you home instead.”

Her eyes light up and she kisses me. We walk to my old Toyota and I take directions from her until we arrive at her parents’ home in the suburbs. I park in front of her parents’ driveway and opened the car door for her.

She gives me a long goodnight kiss and says “Call me.” Afterward, she walks inside and waves at me from the window.

I go home and sleep, feeling happy and fulfilled. My writing indeed brought good into my life, just as I had firmly believed.

 

The Girl’s Perspective:

My parents are fighting again. My dad always tries to be a good provider but I think he works too much. My mom resents the fact that he puts his career before her and uses pills to fill the void that his affections once occupied. My dad loathes my mom’s pill habit and avoids her like the Plague.

Earlier on in the school year, I made excellent marks. I was even an honor student. Now that my mom is always loaded and my dad is gone for weeks at a time, I cannot get a ride to school. There is no bus service to the private school I attend and I would endure hellish torment if I attended the public high school in my district. So, I dropped out. My dad is slightly bothered, but he doesn’t do anything. My mom doesn’t care at all.

It’s Thanksgiving and my dad is home, for today at least. You would think we could celebrate as a family, but my parents are at each other’s throats. It may be cold and sunny outside but there is a nasty storm brewing inside. I do not want to be hit by their flying debris, so I go to the park. I watch the brown Sycamore leaves fly around in the breeze and go exploring.

Suddenly; I see him, sitting there, writing something in a composition book. He’s greatly focused on his work. I watch him for just a little bit. He’s very cute so I smile at him. He smiles back. I walk past him, feeling giddy. He actually noticed me. I wonder what he is like. I have no one at all. My family is a mess as I have already said. Could he possibly be a friend, maybe even a lover? I surely need love in my life.

So I begin to pace up and down the walking path, looking at him each time I pass by. He notices me.

So, I say to him, “Hi.”

“Hello,” He replies.

“Could I sit with you?”

“Sure, I guess,” I am so happy, he is actually letting me sit with him!

“You’re cute,” I tell him as I smile from ear to ear.

“Thanks, I guess.”

That’s all?

Maybe he isn’t attracted to me. I wish I could be skinny like all the other girls I know. There’s only one way to find out what he really thinks about me.

I’ll ask, “Do you think I’m also cute or am I too fat?”

“I think you’re very beautiful and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He is so sweet to tell me that. I want him even more now! “Good. You make me feel special!”

There is a quick silence, but then “I’m very happy that you want to sit with me, but don’t you have a family to go home to?”

“I do, but my parents are fighting like cats and dogs and Thanksgiving was canceled.” What will he think of me now?

“That’ awful. I’m so sorry you have to go through that.” Wait, what is he doing now? He hugged me!

“What about you? Don’t you have any family?”

He replies “I do, but they’re all far away from me. I can’t afford to travel to them and they can’t afford to travel to me.”

Why can’t he afford to visit his family and they can’t afford to visit him either?

So, I ask him, “Do you work?”

“Yes. I’m a stocker at The Downtown Grocer, it’s a God awful job. I can do so much better if only I had the chance.”

“How can you do better?”

“With this.” He shows me his composition book and continues, “I am trying to become established as a writer.”

That is so awesome. My dad knows people who could get him published. Maybe he would love me if I could make him successful.

I would love to see what he writes about as I always enjoyed English classes.

“Let me read.”

“Sure,” He says and hands me the book. He actually hands me the book.

I begin to read. These love stories he writes fill me with all kinds of wonderful feelings. Oh my; I am now blushing.

“These are beautiful. I love them!”

I know what I’m going to do; I’ll give him my phone number.

So I ask him, “Could I borrow your pen?”

“What for?”

“I want to write something for you.” I wonder if he can see me blushing? My face feels so warm.

“Here you go.”

Quickly; I write down the ten digits and say, “That is for you.”

He’s blushing. Now he is slightly distressed. Did I come off too strong?

He then asks me leerily, “How old are you, anyway?”

Why is he asking me that? I know how I’ll handle this. “It’s impolite to ask a girl her age, but that’s all right because I think you are nice. You’re cute, too, but I told you that already.”

He seems unfazed, then says, “So, I will re-state my question; how old are you?”

Humbly, I reply “I’m seventeen if you must know.”

“You’re young,” He tells me cautiously. Well, of course, I am young. He is young too, right?

“I may be young, but you seem like a sweet guy.” I know what I’ll do. I’m going to kiss him-just a quick peck on the cheek.

He is shocked and seems cautious.

“You know I am twenty-two and I can get in plenty of trouble.”

Oh no, I hope I didn’t blow it. Let me see if I can salvage this, “Wow, I thought you were my age. I still like you, though.” I tell him. There is now, a silence, so I continue “You don’t have to worry about getting in trouble because I won’t make you do anything illegal.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yes.”

It is quiet now. I want him so much.

“So, will you be mine?” I ask.

He’s now staring at me. What is he thinking right now? If he rejects me; my heart will be broken. Can he see the tears I am holding back?

Finally, he says, “Yes. I’ll be yours because love knows no numbers. Forgive me for making you wait, I’m just nervous that’s all.”

“Don’t worry; I forgive you. Just know that you don’t have to be nervous around me.”

“I’ll try not to be.”

He still seems leery. I am going to kiss him, this time I won’t hold back. Oh my, now he is kissing me too. My heart is singing!

I want his number, too. Let’s see if I can get it from him, “Could I have your phone number as well?”

“Sure.” Oh my, he is actually calling it out. Now we’re programming each others’ numbers into our phones. Slowly our faces and lips are meeting. We’re going to kiss yet again! I hope this never ends. I snuggle next to him on the bench and he reads to me. We sit there for hours until the sun sets and the temperature drops.

“Shouldn’t you be home?”

I know I should and I had better get there before my parents realize I am gone. So I ask him, “I guess. Could you walk me home?”

“I’ll drive you home instead.”

We walk to his car, an old Toyota. It starts up perfectly, despite its age. I wish I could somehow get him a better car. I know if I can help get published through one of my dad’s connections, he would be rich and then he would love me for it. I think he would love me anyway or at least that is my hope. I sit next to him and give him directions to my parents’ house. He holds me with his right arm. We are now in my parents’ driveway.

I give him a long goodnight kiss and say “Call me.” Oh, how I hope and pray that he will. If not; I will call him. I look at him from the window and wave as he drives off into the night…

Thank you for reading.  That wasn’t so bad, was it?

I hope you, the reader, walk away with learning something, quite possibly learning that everyone deserves to love and be loved in return!

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Christmas Day Part One-Second Chances

My medication has worn off and I am waking up in my girlfriend’s arms.

It is Christmas Morning and she is sleeping with her head on my chest.

I give her a gentle kiss and then just lay there.

She is slowly waking up as well and she pecks me on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, baby!” I whisper to her.

She smiles from ear to ear and replies, “Merry Christmas,” Then puts her glasses on.

I hug her tightly. She moans and coos with happiness.

We exchange several kisses but then she says, “Okay, I have to potty now-my bladder is full and I’m about to burst!”

I let go and she walks to the bathroom.

I wait for her on the convertible sofa.

I then hear the toilet flush and the sink turn on and off.

She steps out and kisses me as she playfully says, “Did you miss me?”

I simply blush and nod. Then I kiss her in return. She hugs me and buries her face in my chest.

“Now I have to go as well!” I tell her.

“The bathroom is all yours!” She replies.

I enter the bathroom then relieve my bladder. Then I flush the toilet and wash my hands.

She is putting away the bed of the convertible sofa as I exit the bathroom.

After she is done, she motions for me to sit on the sofa with her.

We sit close to each other holding hands and looking at the Christmas tree.

“I wish I knew you existed sooner because I would have bought you a gift for Christmas,” She tells me.

“Just give me your faith, your loyalty and your affections!”

“Oh, as far as I can see you will always have those!”

“I too wish we would have met much sooner, though.”

“Yes, but we have each other now!”

“If you will always be this sweet, I can honestly say that you were worth the wait!”

“Aww. Thank you!” She says then kisses me.

I begin to play with her long reddish blonde hair, to which she giggles.

She pulls my face into her breasts, which turns me on immensely.

I begin to kiss her breasts and she then says, “If we go any further, it will be a sin.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to commit that sin because then God might punish us and cause us to split up.”

“I don’t ever want that, because you seem so perfect for me.”

“And I would rather have you by my side forever and not sin instead of having a few fleeting moments of pleasure with you and then lose you!”

“Just hearing you say those words makes me want you even more though!”

“We need to pray for an escape route. If it didn’t offend God so much, I would indeed make love to you!”

“Ditto!”

One of the room mates comes walking out of her room and asks my girlfriend, “Could you make us all some coffee?”

“Will do.”

The room mate then asks me, “We buy a coffee and chicory blend that is really famous in this city. Would you like to try some?”

“Sure,” I tell her.

“Boil some milk too!” She tells my girlfriend.

“I’ll help,” I interject.

My girlfriend gets two sauce pans and a French press coffee maker out of the cabinets.

She then tells me, “Draw some water into one of the sauce pans and pour some milk in the other.”

“Will do!” I tell her.

I turn on the kitchen tap and draw some water in the pot then I get a gallon of milk from the refrigerator and pour some milk into the other.

My girlfriend then hands me a box of matches and says, “You’ll need these to start the stove burners.”

“Okay. I think my stove is like that too. Of course this house reminds me a lot of my house.”

“I’d like to see your house if that’s all right.”

“Sure. I’d be honored for you to be my guest!”

My girlfriend coos again then kisses me.

I light the stove and put the water on a high fire and the milk on a low fire.

My girlfriend pours the coffee bean and chicory root grinds into the French press.

We stand in the kitchen, waiting for the water and milk to boil. It’s quite cold, so we cling to each other for warmth.

I gently rub her love handles and she rubs my buttocks.

We sweetly stare into each others’ eyes, lost in time.

Finally, the water is at a rolling boil and the milk is warm enough.

The other room mate is waking up.

“Could you make us all some French Toast?” She asks.

“Sure.” She pauses, then looks at me and says, “Pour the boiling water into the top of the coffee maker and lower the milk to the lowest setting possible.”

I pour the boiling water and am greeted with an amazing aroma of the coffee and chicory brewing.

“Could you go to the Lazy Susan and get some nutmeg and vanilla extract?”

“Sure thing, baby!” I tell her.

While I find those, she is getting a big bowl from the cabinets and beating some eggs in it. I had her the vanilla and nutmeg, to which she pours it into the mixture.

“One more thing, get me a cup of sugar, baby.”

“I’m on it.” I tell her.

I get some measuring spoons and pour a cup of sugar into the mixture.

She mixes it all together, then takes the old loaf of sliced bread and dunks every piece into the mixture.

Afterwards, she takes a couple pats of butter and drops them in a skillet.

She lights the middle burner of the stove and the butter melts.

Once the melted butter is sizzling, she begins to cook the pieces of bread.

Finally they are all done.

She places the French Toast on a platter.

We all sit at the table and one of the room mates says grace.

My girlfriend takes a ladle and scoops some of the hot milk into the four coffee mugs, then she pours the coffee and chicory brew into the cups.

We all serve ourselves some French Toast.

As I eat, I say, “This is amazing.”

One room mate says, “You’ve got a good woman on your hands so you need to treat her right,”

“He does,” My girlfriend says.

The other room mate adds in, “Yes he does. I heard him say how he wants her by his side forever instead of just for a few fleeting moments of pleasure. Guys like that are very rare!”

I blush and smile from ear to ear.

The first room mate says, “That’s very sweet!” She then looks at my girlfriend and says, “You have a good man, so treat him right as well!”

My girlfriend and I share a sweet kiss then go back to eating.

One of the room mates ask me, “How’s the coffee?”

“It’s awesome!” I tell her, “Never had anything like it before.”

“Well, get used to it if you’re going to live in our city!”

“I do like it here, I must admit. I knew it would be a safe haven for those with my illness but I didn’t think I would do this well!”

“You’re blessed-remember that!” My girlfriend tells me.

One room mate then says, “Why don’t y’all walk around the neighborhood and have fun together. We’re going visit our family.”

“You would show me your house!” My girlfriend says.

“Okay. I’ll do that.”

“Just remember to always be good to each other,” The other room mate says.

My girlfriend clears the table and we wash the dishes.

Then her room mates get in their car and leave.

We bundle up then go for a walk…

Back to “Second Chances”