Chapter 3: Ian

Stevie couldn’t stop talking about their encounter for days. She kept replaying every minute of the night, analyzing what she’d said and done and what Ben Stanovich must think of her.

She’d had the photo of her and Mallory and Ben printed and showed it to everyone she knew.

“Look at how his arm is around my waist,” she would explain. “He was holding onto my waist. See? I swear I can still feel it. I’ll never wash that shirt again.”

They’d stayed at the bar another hour, chatting and milling about. Stevie still couldn’t talk to Ben without drooling and had avoided looking in his direction altogether. Instead she’d ended up in a long, secret discussion with Jake the Bass Player.

Barry continued to pester Mallory, offering his spare bed once again. Ben sat within earshot for twenty minutes before he finally decided to retire to his room. Mallory wished she had brushed off the drummer and thought of something witty to say to Ben.

When the memories of that evening crept into her mind during a slow day at work she tried to shut them down. Why was she so concerned about what Ben Stanovich thought? Was she just starved for attention? She’d had Barry’s attention and she didn’t give a crap. But when Ben looked at her she felt something like pebbles in her stomach. She saw something in his eyes.

No! Stevie was a huge fan of this guy. She’d had a crush on him since she was old enough to have crushes. She’d vowed in the eighth grade that she would marry him one day, becoming Stevie Stanovich, no Stephanie Stanovich, no Stephanie Piotrowski-Stanovich.

Mallory laughed out loud. Nurse Rochelle gave her a quizzical look and then went back to her magazine. The doctor had gone home early and nobody wanted to do the work they were supposed to do. But as long as Rochelle was slacking off then it was okay for everybody else to do the same.

But Mallory didn’t want to slack off. She wanted to busy herself. She wanted to stop thinking about those eyes and that smile. She was being stupid. It’s not like he was some guy in town. She would never see this man again. Even if he was “Stevie’s man” it’s not like she was going to snatch him away from her.

So maybe a little fantasy couldn’t hurt. She began to imagine ditching Barry and sitting down with Ben. She would say witty things and he would find her irresistibly charming. He would call her right now and ask her to come on the road with him where they would share four-star rooms and he would shower her with gifts.

As if by magic the phone rang and interrupted her thoughts. Of course it rang. This was a doctor’s office and she was the receptionist. It wasn’t going to be Ben Stanovich on the other end. That would be ridiculous.

“Dr Casper’s office, this is Mallory.”

“Hey, Babe.” It was Ian. His voice was just the right amount of sexy. But she was annoyed at him for breaking her fantasy. She hadn’t seen him on Sunday after all. She’d even let Monday and Tuesday go by without calling him for emotionally un-involved sex. For some reason she just hadn’t been in the mood. Instead she’d caught up on the shows that were crowding her DVR.

“Hi,” she said quietly. Rochelle was a gossip and she didn’t know about Ian. Not that she would get much info from a one-sided phone call. But Mallory didn’t want to field questions about a man who she was sleeping with but who wasn’t her boyfriend.

“I’m going to Story’s Bar tonight. Wanna come?”

“Okay. Should I pick you up?” This was a loaded question. What Mallory was really asking was “Are we going to end up having sex at your house or my apartment? Or do you think maybe there’s a chance you’ll run into some other girl you know and we’ll end up going our separate ways after I give you a quick handy in the parking lot?”

“That sounds great.” Sex at his place.

Mallory hung up the phone and smiled. Even though he wasn’t her boyfriend, even though they were just having fun, even though he wasn’t her type at all, she always got a thrill from hearing his voice. He smiled when he talked. He smiled all the time. She had never known anyone like him, who saw the bright side of everything. When he was around she could see the bright side, too.

She suspected he was on some kind of prescription uppers. Nobody could be that happy with life all the time without pharmaceutical assistance. But when he did coke his cheery disposition turned to downright irritating. He would prattle on for hours about some crazy idea he had, seeming to be talking in hyper-speed. Mallory had to only experience this one time.

She had told him, “Next time you do coke, don’t call me. Do it on your own time.” She wasn’t telling him not to do it, just to spare her the wasted evening. Because frankly, his junk didn’t work when he was coked up anyway.

Ian may have been high the first time they met. He had been unable to sit still and talked a mile a minute. Mallory had found him juvenile and annoying. She wrote him off without a second thought.

The second time they’d met he was quite normal. It was just a few months ago, early in the summer. Mallory’s friend Marsha had a thing for Ian’s friend Luke. She wanted to meet him at a techno dance club downtown that was hosting a foam party. Mallory was curious about the prospect of dancing in a club filled with soap suds. So she agreed to accompany Marsha and keep her out of trouble.

The line at the club was long. The cover was ten dollars. Mallory was beginning to think she should have stayed home. She’d much rather be sipping six-dollar Moscato in front of her TV.

Inside the club was almost insane. Multicolored lights bounced off of the black walls. Beautiful young women in bikinis danced on the stage. The entire dance floor was flooded with white soap suds at least two feet high. A crowd of people writhed together to the techno music in the cloud of suds and smoke.

Marsha found Luke drinking a beer with Ian and introduced both of them to Mallory. Ian looked amazing. He was tan and his blond hair almost shimmered in the weird lighting. He smiled broadly at Mallory, sending a wave down her spine. He was gorgeous.

“I think we’ve met before,” Ian told her.

“I don’t think so.” Mallory would have remembered.

“Sure. You two were at The Motion Club with some other chicks. I mean girls.”

Mallory frowned. Oh. He was that guy. Too bad. His gorgeous ratio dipped slightly.

The four claimed some stools at the bar and Luke bought a round of drinks. They sat and watched the pulsating crowd for a while. Mallory looked over to see Marsha and Luke making out like teenagers. His hand was lodged into the back of her pants and her leg was wrapped tightly around him. Ian caught her watching them briefly and grinned. She looked sheepishly away when he held up his beer and winked. Damn, he was gorgeous in the bouncing lights.

This prompted her to excuse herself to the ladies’ room. Usually she would motion for Marsha to go with her, but her friend currently had Luke’s tongue lodged in her mouth. So she braved the tiny bathroom by herself. She reapplied her lipstick and adjusted her clingy top. It gave her time to contemplate what a crappy evening this was turning out to be and how she wished again that she’d stayed home.

When Mallory returned Marsha and Luke had disappeared. Ian motioned for her to sit next to him and offered to buy her a shot. Ah, what the hell.

“Cuervo,” she told the bartender. “No lime. No salt.” Ian raised his eyebrows and smiled at her. Damn that smile. They clinked their shot glasses together and tossed back the tequila.

“I don’t think those two are coming back anytime soon,” Ian told her. “We might as well dance.”

Mallory reluctantly obliged. When was she again going to get the chance to dance in soap suds? Maybe if her washing machine overflowed.

When they were in the middle of the crowd the two began dancing to the sultry beat. The white suds covered Mallory’s feet and reached to the middle of her calves. Her jeans disappeared into the foam which was pulsating blue, pink, yellow, red, and green. Ian put an arm around her waist and pulled her in so her belly touched his. He was only a few inches taller than she was and the two of them fit perfectly together as they gyrated in the sea of foam. His touch sent electricity through her, or maybe it was the tequila. The man could dance. She straddled his leg and draped her arms around his neck.

Ian looked at her and smiled. He wasn’t trying to grab her ass, wasn’t trying to cop a feel. They were just dancing very, very close. As cliché as it was, Mallory felt the rest of the club melting away and only the two of them remained, moving and grinding to the constant and steady beat.

She couldn’t help herself. He smelled so good. His hands felt so amazing on the small of her back. She leaned in and pressed her head to his ear. He nuzzled into the soft dip at the base of her neck. Mallory’s heart beat so fast she thought it would break out of her chest.

Ian seemed to be trying to resist her. He wasn’t pushing away, but was reluctant to do more than brush his velvety lips over her bare collar bone. But soon his resolve melted and he opened his mouth and licked her there. She threw her head back and absently put her hand on the back of his neck. She didn’t want him to stop. His tongue glided up her long neck to the very back of her jawbone, just under her ear. Then his lips were tugging on her earlobe. She felt that she could melt right into his muscular chest.

Mallory couldn’t wait any longer. She wanted to show him how hot he was making her feel, how much like a hungry animal. Still moving to the throbbing techno music, she turned her head to meet the lips that had just explored her neck. His arms tightened around her as their mouths came together. Their tongues danced with fierce desire. She may not like him, but he was definitely turning her on. What harm could a little kiss do?

Ian’s hands found their way down and cupped Mallory’s ass. He lifted her closer with his leg so that she could feel the evidence of his desire. Everything about the two of them there was perfect. Their bodies fit. Their kisses meshed. They were hot.

Stopping short of ripping each other’s clothes off, the two left the dance floor and finally found their friends by the door. Marsha wanted to go. She pulled Mallory aside.

“Luke’s going to drive me home,” she told her. “He lives by me. You don’t mind giving Ian a ride home, do you?”

Crap. Mallory had just made out with Ian. Marsha obviously hadn’t seen. Now she was going to have to sit in a car with him with nothing to say. But she agreed, if only to help her friend.

They all stepped out into the night and parted ways. Mallory trekked up the block to her car with Ian in tow. She didn’t want this to be awkward.

“They’re totally gonna do it,” Ian said when they were finally in the car. “Luke’s wanted her for so long.”

“Maybe. Or he’s just being nice because he lives close.”

Ian laughed. “Luke lives across town. They’re gonna get it on.”

Mallory sighed. “Good for them. Marsha really likes him.”

“They’re good for each other.” An unlikely voice of reason.

They drove in silence for a few minutes. When they came to a stoplight Ian put his hand on hers. She looked at him, at his crystal blue eyes, his infectious smile. She couldn’t help herself. She leaned in and he kissed her again with heat and passion. They couldn’t get enough of each other, hands everywhere. She was nearly in his lap when a car pulled up behind them and honked. The light was green. Mallory gunned it.

Ian directed her to the house he rented with two roommates. She pulled into the driveway and they sat looking at each other for a minute.

“Do you want to come in?” He wasn’t being smarmy or smooth. There was a hopefulness in his voice, maybe he was even nervous.

“I can’t.” She wanted to. But she didn’t know how she felt about him now. Her mind was too clouded with lust and booze to make any decisions. So she lied to him. “It’s late. I have to get up in the morning.”

He didn’t even ask her why. It was Friday night. What did she have to do on Saturday morning? With most girls he would press it and then forget about her if she still refused. But Mallory was different. He didn’t know how, but she was.

Thank you to my readers

Thank you for reading Once In A While. Tomorrow I will post Chapter 3 and from then on the chapters will be posted on Sunday, probably around noon. This is a novel still in progress, so comments and suggestions are welcomed.

Chapter 2: Mad Ben Stan

Mallory and Stevie strolled into the Civic Center with their concert faces on; cool, wise, not about to take shit from anyone. They’d both carefully crafted their wardrobes to look just enough like they didn’t care and had thrown on any old thing. Mallory wore her lucky black tank top and jeans that were so tight in the rear she wasn’t sure she’d ever get her ass out of them. Four more outfit options had been left sprawled on her bed after she’d rejected them for this one.

The crowd at the Mad Ben Stan concert was interesting to say the least. The band attracted a full-on geek audience. Mallory felt like she’d stepped between a computer seminar and a Star Trek convention. Most of the fans were men; men who probably hadn’t been laid in a long time, if ever. A few women dotted the room, but most of them were either clinging to a fortunate geek or looked like they rarely left the company of their many cats.

She wasn’t sure why Stevie was here. She definitely didn’t fit in with this crowd. Obviously she saw something in this band that made it worth her while.

The ladies took their seats in the fourteenth row. Their passes gained them entrance to the meet and greet after the show. Stevie glanced around with a huge smile on her face. She’d talked nonstop in the car about how it was going to be and what she was going to say to Ben Stanovich when she met him. She had it all planned out. And Mallory was going to take pictures.

The show finally started with a blast of green and red smoke. Ben Stanovich strutted out onto the stage in a shiny purple robe and huge yellow clown wig. He screamed out a crazy metal-inspired song and the crowd screamed along with every word. These people were truly die-hard.

Around the middle of the show the band slowed it down and did a few ballads. By this time Mallory was starting to see the charisma that kept Ben Stanovich’s career afloat. He captured the audience’s attention and knew exactly how to keep them on the edge of their seats. As he skillfully crooned a twisted anti-love song Mallory actually began to buy into it. Now she too was anxious to meet this man.

After the second encore Mallory and Stevie rushed to the line for the meet and greet. They waited at a door with twenty or so other people, all clutching their passes in their nervous hands. Mallory sized them up. She and Stevie were definitely the best looking ones there. By far.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Stevie said suddenly. “I’m so nervous. I need a drink.” She looked around for the nearest cash bar. But it was closed. She’d have nothing to calm her crazy nerves.

Then the doors opened. Two middle-aged ladies were tasked with keeping the fans back and checking their passes. Inside was a large room with a bar on one side, a few couches, and a long table full of merchandise. Next to that table was another table where the band members were seated. Ben Stanovich sat at the very end, freshly showered and smiling politely.

“Oh my god,” Stevie hissed. “There he is. He’s right there. You have to take my picture with him. He’s so gorgeous. I don’t know what to say.”
            “Sure you do. You practiced on the ride over and probably at home in front of your mirror. You’ve got this.”

Slowly the line crept along. Each fan took a few minutes to tell the band everything they’d ever wanted to say to them. They took pictures, most of them asking Ben Stanovich to pose with a sarcastic grin or with his arm around them like they were old friends.

Finally it was their turn. They were greeted by each member who in turn signed Stevie’s copy of their latest CD. When they came to Ben Stanovich Mallory readied the camera. She was surprised to feel butterflies in her stomach. She laughed at herself for being so silly. He was just a guy. But he was a celebrity and she’d never been so close to a famous person before.

“I love you,” Stevie managed to squeak out quietly while he signed her CD. He looked up with an awkward, but not surprised, smile. “I mean I love your music. A lot. I’m Stephanie. You’re great.”

Mallory stepped in to save her friend. She could imagine the horror Stevie was feeling inside at not being able to collect herself in front of her idol. “Can we get a picture?”

Ben Stanovich looked at her and grinned from ear to ear. Their eyes met and she felt those butterflies again. Silly. He stood up as Stevie rounded the table to stand with him. She was nearly six feet tall yet he still had a few inches on her. Mallory raised the camera in front of her.

“Wait,” said Mike Something-or-other the Bass Player. He came around the table and held his hand out for the camera. “Don’t you want to be in the picture, too?”

This was odd. She hadn’t seen him offer to take anybody else’s picture. But she obliged and went over to take her place next to her friend.

“No,” Mike said. “On the other side of Ben.” He waved his hand and Mallory followed his orders. Ben Stanovich wrapped one arm around each of them and she felt that damned tingle again. This man had some kind of magical charisma. Mike snapped the picture and Stevie nearly fainted out of Ben’s arm after.

“Thank you,” she gasped.

Mike handed Mallory her camera and motioned to the bar. “There’s an open bar,” he said. “Help yourselves.” Then he winked at her. Not a creepy wink, but the kind that made her giggle inside like a little girl.

The open bar obviously hadn’t been offered to all of the fans. Most of them had left. All that remained were a few crew members, a couple of plastic-looking women in short skirts and two somewhat homely female fans. Mallory and Stevie sat as far away from them as they could. They didn’t want to look like groupies, just have a free drink.

“I made such an ass out of myself,” Stevie sighed as she plopped down on the bar stool. “I acted like a twelve-year-old idiot.”

Mallory shook her head. “He probably thought you were adorable.” She didn’t fully believe that. But she was pretty sure he was used it.

Stevie’s face brightened up again. “I can’t believe I just met him. Did you see how he had his arm around me? I could die.”

Behind them the line for the meet and greet was at its end. The band started to disperse. Mallory turned to look and caught the eye of the hard-edge-looking drummer. He grinned widely at her and winked. This time it was creepy. A minute later when she looked again he was headed their way.

“Oh, crap,” she whispered quickly to Stevie. “That drummer is coming this way.”

Stevie steeled herself against her bar stool and clutched her drink. She could talk to Barry the Drummer. He wasn’t her idol, Ben was. But why was he coming over? And then he was there.

“Hi, ladies.” He stood between them, hand outstretched to Mallory. She shook it. His skin was rough like sandpaper and his New York accent was thick. “How did you like the show?”

“It was great,” Stevie replied. She was apparently no longer twelve. “You guys sounded great.”

He turned from Mallory to Stevie as if he had just noticed she was there. They began a conversation about the music and gigs and blah blah blah. Mallory wasn’t paying attention. She was focused on the small crowd at the end of the bar. Mike the Keyboard Player was sipping a drink and politely listening to one of the homely girls prattle on about something or other. She had huge hair and too much makeup. The poor thing was just trying too hard.

 Jake the Guitarist stood behind Mike and next to the two plastic women who were clearly bored. He wasn’t paying attention to them anyway. He was staring intently at Mallory with a sly grin. He nudged Mike and said something without looking away. Mike looked up and grinned at Mallory as well. What the hell were they up to?

“Mal?” Stevie poked at her friend’s leg. She motioned toward the bartender who had clearly just offered more drinks.

“No,” she replied. “I’m good.”

“Come on,” Barry coaxed. “They’re free. Have another.”

“I can’t. I drove.”

“You can stay the night. I have a room.”

Stevie’s eyes widened and he laughed. “I have an extra bed,” he defended. “I wasn’t being weird.” Yeah, right.

“I don’t think so,” Mallory replied. Other than that last remark he’d seemed pretty down-to-earth. Now she couldn’t tell if he was creepy or just clueless. “I have to work in the morning.”

Barry shrugged. “Can I get your number?”

Mallory nearly fell off her chair. Men rarely asked for her number. Mostly it was because they were afraid of her and the “bitch face” she wore all the time. This guy seemed unfazed by it.

“I don’t think so,” she replied. She wasn’t in the habit of giving her number out to strangers, even if they were known all over the free world as “that guy who plays drums in Mad Ben Stan”.  “We should probably go.”

Stevie, who had been shooting eye daggers at Mallory over this phone number thing, gushed over Barry and told him again how great it was to meet them all. She swiveled off of her stool to hug him, only to catch sight of Ben Stanovich over his shoulder. He was walking right toward them followed by Jake, Mike, and the fan with the big hair. Stevie clutched Mallory’s arm so tight she thought she would break it off.

Ben and the group sat down at the bar and he motioned for drinks. His demeanor was different than when he was onstage. He was quiet and relaxed, not loud and crazy. Mallory had expected him to be obnoxious and to want all eyes on him. Instead he sat quietly while the others buzzed around him. She found herself staring at his profile until he turned his head and caught her. She looked quickly away and color rose to her cheeks.

Stevie couldn’t contain herself. She’d had two drinks and was a little braver than before. She strolled right over to Ben and stuck her hand out for him to shake.

“Hi. I’m Stephanie.”

“I know,” he said slowly. “We just met over there.” He motioned to the folding tables that had been dismantled and now were propped up against the wall.

“I just wanted to tell you that your show was great. You guys rocked. It was great. I just wanted to tell you that.” Here we go again. Mallory had to save her one more time.

“She’s a big fan.” She took her friend by the shoulders and forced her gently back onto her a stool. “She’s just a little nervous.”

“And you?” He looked straight at Mallory. His soft brown eyes seemed to look right into her soul. But that was silly. What a silly, romantic thing to think. Get it together, Mallory.

“No,” she stammered and then regained her composure. “I’m not nervous.”

He laughed. “I meant, are you a fan?”

She blushed again. “Of course,” she lied. Half lied. Mad Ben Stan was starting to grow on her. And he was still staring deep into her baby blues.

He grinned as if he knew she was fibbing. He wasn’t new to the “my friend dragged me to your show” crowd. He opened his mouth to speak again but Barry shoved his way between them, breaking their eye-to-eye connection.

“So, can I please get your number?” He was almost begging now. Mallory felt her cheeks flush. Jake and Mike snickered and elbowed each other. Was this some kind of weird game? Ben just looked down into his drink.

“Fine.” Mallory finally gave in. She didn’t want to show Ben Stanovich her bitchy side.

That’s when Jake the Bass Player decided to put in his two cents. “Why don’t you just give her your number and she can call your phone right now?” Mallory shot him an angry look and he laughed. He had obviously taken the course How To Not Get A Fake Number From A Girl You Just Met In A Bar 101.

So she called Barry and he answered and it was all funny to everybody. Stevie laughed especially hard because she was sitting two feet from her idol and tossing back her third drink. The moment was surreal. A few hours ago they’d been normal twenty-somethings leading dull, boring lives. Now here they were having drinks and laughs with Mad Ben Stein, international dweeb-loved superstars.

Chapter 1: Mallory

            Mallory pulled herself reluctantly out of his bed. She began dressing while he lay there looking at her.

“Are you coming over tomorrow night?” He asked her.

“No. I promised my mom we’d go shopping. How about Friday?”

“I have a date.” He got up and pulled on his boxers. “It’s the bartender from that bar we went to last week. The one with the curly hair. She’s so hot.”

            She felt a tinge of jealousy, but it quickly faded. This was only a fling, nothing serious. She liked Ian. He was fun to be with and the sex was amazing. And he was gorgeous. But he had issues. He could be obnoxious sometimes. He was a little bit of a racist. Occasionally he liked to binge on coke for a whole weekend until he thought he would die and then vow to never do it again. All of these things would bother Mallory if she were really invested in him. But what they had was casual and it suited both of them just fine. She didn’t need a relationship and he couldn’t stick with just one girl. They never fought and never lied to each other. It was perfect.

Getting into her old gray Taurus she threw her purse onto the passenger seat. She turned the key in the ignition, setting off a clatter of loose metal in the undercarriage. The headlights faded from his garage door as she pulled out of the driveway. She rolled down the window and turned up the CD player. It was late, but she wasn’t tired. Her mind was just waking up. She loved the night, the artificial light, the smell of the night air, and the world that hid from the daylight.

From the car’s floor came a chirping sound. She’d forgotten her phone in the car. It was still plugged in and the little green light was blinking to signal she had a message. It was a text from her most trusted girlfriend and partying buddy Stevie.

OMG! Won backstage passes to Mad Ben Stan. Saturday 6 pm.

Mad Ben Stan was an obnoxious pop group that Stevie adored. Since the 90s they had somehow made a career out of crazy costumes, over-the-top sets and videos, and insane lyrics. Though lately they were heading the way of the “oldies act”. Mallory didn’t understand Stevie’s obsession.  

The group was lead by its singer Ben Stanovich who wasn’t a conventionally attractive guy by the media’s standards. He was tall with long, brown hair and kind of severe features. He always made weird faces when he performed and sometimes screeched like his pants were too tight. But Stevie called him “fascinating” and “charismatic”. To each her own.

Now Stevie had backstage passes. It was a dream come true for her. Of course she asked Mallory to go. There was no one in the world she would rather invite. They did everything together.

Mallory figured her week in her head. Tomorrow was Thursday which meant work at 8 AM and shopping later with her mom. Friday was a short day at work but Ian had a date. Saturday was the concert so she wouldn’t see him until at least Sunday. Maybe she could call him up after the show and drop by. But he would probably be out all night and pick up some random woman in a bar. So it wasn’t likely that he’d be available for a midnight visitor.

It’s not that Mallory missed him. She could totally get by without seeing him for three days. It’s just that the weekends reminded her that she was alone. She was twenty-six and alone.

She didn’t mind that Ian didn’t want anything more. She didn’t want it, either. Not from him. He wasn’t her type. They didn’t even really have anything in common, other than drinking and sex. And he had an obvious lack of respect for women. Mallory wasn’t even sure if he liked being in the company of women, aside from trying to get laid of course.

When Mallory met Ian she barely gave him a second glance. She was with some girlfriends at a bar and he and his guy friends were introduced. He was cute. He smiled a lot. But Mallory knew his type; a womanizing frat boy with a street racing car who liked to get into bar fights and probably lived off of his mom and dad.

            She had been right on two things, the fighting and the womanizing. She had come to learn that he worked at a bank and was good with his money. He lived on a budget and offered to help Mallory create one. He had even budgeted for his cocaine, under a different description, of course.

            He’d actually never been in a fraternity. He was studying to become a pharmacist, although his first love was marine biology. And he was a good student.

            He also didn’t drive a street racer. He drove an old Lincoln Towncar that he’d inherited from his grandma. Mallory had been shocked when she’d first seen it.

            “Is this really your car?” She’d built up such a solid prejudice of him that she was visibly surprised by each revelation.

            However, he was a womanizer. He loved the ladies. And a weekend without a fight in a bar was wasted in his opinion. Unless he was with Mallory. She was a fair compensation.

            This didn’t bother Mallory. Nor did his coke use, even though she wasn’t into drugs. She wasn’t responsible for him. They kept enough emotional distance from each other that neither had to feel accountable.

            Mallory was still thinking about Ian when she walked into her apartment; her own apartment that she didn’t have to share with anybody else. She didn’t have to clean up after anybody else or keep track of anybody else. Its modern, uncluttered look made her feel independent, and a little bit- what was that?- sad?

Introduction

I'm not a professional writer. I've never been commercially published. But I enjoy writing, spend most weekend nights typing away the thoughts in my head. Please enjoy the following story. It comes from places real and places imagined. Sometimes it's hard, even for me, to tell which is which.

r. joy