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There
are many reasons for creating stories, stories that speak of desires or
sometimes express joy and sometimes pain. This page will give
you the stories of people represented by characters who are strangers in a
foreign land. These stories maybe comical, romantic or tragic but they
all stem from a need or better yet a longing...
The
American Love
The
truth is: women never ever really no what they want. In America, this truth
becomes more complex¾ money gets involved. I remember holding a woman close
on a moonlit beach, this was void of superficial intent. The touch, the
symbiotic way in which we met eyes was innocent. The Caribbean gave life to
love. My friend ended my wishful thinking.
John
was late. It did not matter, it is the end. The key chain inscribed with the
words J.R.M. signifies that he is about to converge upon an encounter that
will bring heartbreak as well as finality. This was a regular work day¾ but
the routine miller lite bottle did not sit on the kitchen table. He would
not have to wipe the residue from the moist bottle off the table. In this
moment, it seemed like a joy forever lost. The beer’s absence solidified
the end.
The
trips, John remembered the plane rides and men in blue suits and black ties.
Blue was the corporate color. At 6’3” with jagged cheeks bones and broad
powerful shoulders, the 26 year-old John was a specimen of a millennium-
man. As a broker for Dean Witter, he had reached at the pinnacle of his
profession. The business meetings in places like Tokyo and Milan had taken
their toll. He promised his wife he would stay at home more often, work
less, and get to know her. This unfamiliarity would prove destructive.
After
placing his briefcase on the kitchen counter. John approached the staircase.
The spiral staircase ascending two floors up to the master bedroom would be
the most pivotal ascent in his lifetime. Today was to be a day of
revelation. John began to ascend, step by step. Creek…creek…creek, his
brown Clark wingtips echoed against each wooden step. He reached the top of
the staircase and peered down the hall. The blue carpeting outlined his path
towards finality. John passed the open baby room, it was innocent of deceit.
He walked pass the open bathroom, it was void of scandal. John approached
the bedroom door, it was locked.
His
mind could not control what his hands wanted to do, and yet his arms were
unmoving. The courage of disbelief revived his nimble arms. John reached in
his pocket and disheveled the key from the coins that jingled. Suddenly his
arms went nimble, fear had set in. The questions in his mind rambled on.
“Should I just walk away?” “Is this the day that I find out?” He
could not help himself, his arms revived. He unlocked the door and there it
was.
The
scene was a realization of all his speculations. Her body lay half-dressed,
her companion in bed was familiar to John. Her lover was Jim Meyers,
John’s colleague of four years. They had traveled together on the same
business trips with the same mission: increase company shares. Now they
shared the same woman. John’s wife turned and half-heartedly said to him,
“I told you I needed more attention.”
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