Al Michaels on God

Al Michaels.
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So I do a thing on dreams and Simon Templar decides to also do a serious piece on dreams. Okay. Enough!

Dreams are ridiculous. Take this one from last night...

I'm following Al Michael's around asking him questions about announcing. He just wants a Coke at this ridiculous giant chicken restaurant. I'm immediately pissed because I see they want 1.79 for a stupid 8 ounce Coke.

Rip-off.

Michaels turns to me and says "Don't worry, it's on me."

I figure he can afford it I follow Michaels into the restaurant and we go up to the counter and order.

"Let me ask you," I say "I know it's very tough to be ON all the time during a broadcast...but you guys do coast, right?"

"Coast?" he asks incredulously.

"Yes, coast. I mean whenever you tell a story that you have told more than 8 times, you are just coasting...it's just filler." I say. "You just start it and your brain goes elsewhere. I mean I've heard you tell the Bobby Bonds story 11 times...you are just coasting."

He grins back at me and says "Yeah, but I am still angry at God."

"You angry at God? Why would you be angry at God?"

"Who said anything about God?" I am thinking as just then a man in a dark blue suit walks up and looks me in the eyes and says "There is no such thing as God. It is a projection of human need and desire and the fear of death. It is not scientific and therefore irrelevant."

"Oh Geez," I say to Michaels. "Ya can't go anywhere these days."

"Look buddy," I say. "First of all you can't even explain your own existence and consciousness. Haven't you heard of Heisenberg's theory? Hey I have my own doubts about God's existence but let's not be stupid here."

He reaches across the counter and takes his order of chicken and walks away mumbling about the fall of the Berlin Wall. Michael's is not amused.

"Just get the chicken, okay?" he asks. "And the Cokes."

I do and follow on behind.

We sit down on a park bench to eat and he says "Well I was angry. But not so much anymore."

Just then we are interrupted by a commercial break...or the equivalent in dreamland.
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Why is it always three names and get him out of the pool!

Al Michaels on God, part two

Sarah Jessica Parker...not my fav.
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Suddenly in front of us is a large pool and there are several people bobbing around in it laughing. I see Sarah Jessica Parker, Mary Louise Parker, and Jennifer Jason Leigh.

This pleases me until I see Philip Seymour Hoffman also bobbing in the pool, then Anthony Michael Hall.

"Do you have a middle name?" I ask Michaels.

"No," he says "Shut up and eat your chicken."

"I don't have to shut-up," I say.

"Why?"

"Because it is my dream and I could throw you into that pool with only AMH and PSH."

"Point taken," he says. "How is your chicken?"

It's pretty good and I can have all I want and not gain a pound."

"You have gained weight," Michael's reports.

"Shut-up."

We sit in silence and watch SJP and MLP and JJL bob and laugh in the water. They seem to be having a good time.

"Why don't you get in?" he says.

"I have a date later with Nicole Ari Parker," I say flatly.

"Not Parker Posey?" he asks slyly.

"Naw, she's a bitch, has weird teeth and has no middle name.

"I don't have a middle name" he shrugs.

"That only means you are here for a different reason." I say. "Hey you got an extra napkin? This stuff is kinda greasy."

Al Michael's hands me a napkin.

"You have everything Al," I say "yet you coast on old stories and have no middle name."

"You gotta point?"

"Yeah...what's at your core...your center?"

"Right now?...Chicken and Coke," he laughs and some small bits of chicken end up on my pants.

"I can't take you anywhere."

"Hey, I paid. Look PSH is trying to hit on MLP."

"Great," I say "You wanna do the play by play?"
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Every Body Out of the Pool...

Al Michaels on God, part three

I do kinda dig her...
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"So, Michael's...why were you angry with God and why aren't you now?"

"Well we all have a reason to be angry with God," Michaels said. Then he started into a long rambling story that I have heard at least 300 times. Everybody has a reason but the same story.

"You are coasting," I said.

"Yes, I am."

"What happened then?"

"I realized it was my life," he said "so I just embraced it."

"Yeah and you got a $4 million dollar contract."

"Didn't hurt."

"Yeah and you get to work with Madden."

"Yes, he's alot like God."
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Just then I got an outside email on my subconscious palm pilot....

Subject: conjugal yukon advantageous adherent

Do I want to buy a Rolex watch for $3.99, get free Viagra, get 4.9% on my mortagage (I do not have a house) and have a date in an hour?

I decided continuuing to sleep was a lot better and more real.

"Oh God...please let me sleep" I prayed to the unknown.
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SJP got out of the pool and walked up to me seductively.

"You are married," I said grimly. "And you remind me of my ex-wife."

"The angry one?" she said sweetly.

"No, the other one...though she was pretty angry too."

"What's your middle name?" she asked.

"Christopher. But I don't wanna talk anymore."

"Why?'

"It's not funny dialogue," I say "and I am really into funny dialogue" and she slaps me in the face and leaves.

"That was smooth," says Michael's laughing.

"Yeah? Yeah?" I say kinda mad. "What's your middle name and what is your center?"

Michael's looks off in a lost way.

"Did I ever tell you about 'Pudge Fisk' in 1975?"

"Coasting..."

Just then JJL gets out of the pool along with AMH and PSH.

"Dismissed" I say. They leave.

Mary Louise Parker swims over to the edge of the pool and throws her hair back and smiles that amazing smile. She keeps looking and smiling. The water sparkles around her. Michaels puts some small chicken bones down on my shoe to see if I will notice.

I do.

"That's where we are all headed," I say.

"No, " he says "I'm supposed to be in New York in two days."

"Yeah, but eventually you will be just bones."

"You're a drag sometimes...a guy can't just have chicken and a coke and watch people with three names swim?"

"What's your middle name and your center?" I ask again.

"I don't have a middle name and I am lost," Michael's says sadly. "But did I ever tell you about McCovey in 1977?"

"No, you didn't" I said smiling. "Tell me that one, again."
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Dreams Fly When Freed by the Sea...

Al Michaels on God, part four

Nicole Ari Parker.
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"Phone calls Mr. Malraux," the receptionist announces.

"Who?"

"Nicole Ari Parker line one, Mary Louise Parker line two...Philip Seymour Hoffman line three."

I punch the buttons.

"Nicole...how are you?" I ask.

"I am pregnant," she says weakly.

"How far along?" I ask.

"7 months" she replies. "I'll be right down."

"Nicole?"

"Yes?"

"Who is the father?"

"Philip Seymour Hoffman"

"Figures," I say. "He's sitting right here.

"I thought he was on line three" she says.

"No he just showed up next to me...but it doesn't mean he also is not on line three. Let me check."

I put Nicole Ari Parker on hold and push down the button for Philip Seymour Hoffman. "You there?"

"Yes..I'm here," he says.

"But you realize you are also sitting quietly next to me, right?"

"Yes, I realize that," he says.

"How do you account for that?"

"I don't have to," he says. "I've been studying Zen for three weeks."

"How's that working for ya?"

"I'm talking with you, on the phone, and sitting next to you in your dream," he says.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, I've lost twelve pounds."

I hang up and turn to him.
__________________________

Deep pools...

Al Michaels on God, part five

Philip Seymour Hoffman
______________________________

He looked at me with his glasses down his nose, and smiled.

"I had a date with her," I said.

"Not anymore."

Then NAP was there all plump and out of breath.

"I'll leave you two," I said and then I walked over to the large aquarium window and put my hand up to the window and Mary Louise Parker swam up and put her hand up to mine and smiled.

"I'll get back to you," I mouthed.

Al Michael's walked up. he had a patch of barbeque sauce on the corner of his mouth a a bit of chicken.

I didn't mention it.

"I thought about what you said," Michaels said.

"And what did you conclude?"

"I'm gonna be Al Franklin Michaels" he said.

"I'm not sure that is a good idea."

"My name is Franklin," said the man in the blue suit reappearing.

"See, it's taken," I said , "And...well...I'd find another."

I turned and was in a strange room. Very nice and they were dishing up squab. I really like squab but wanted lobster instead. Michaels show up again and sat down in the corner and began to cry. I walked over and sat down next to him and poured him some cold water.

"It's gonna be okay," I assured him. "I'm here if you need anything, just let me know.." He quieted down and I smiled at him to reassure him. "It's not wrong not to know if you are open," I said. Then I stood up and walked to the window.
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Lobster with butter and lemon...

Al Michaels on God, part Six

yummy...
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I turned around and saw a table filled with lobster tails and white plates and ramikins of butter sauce and lemon.

"Hey Michaels," I yelled, "Over here!"

"I love lobster!" he exclaimed and he laughed as I tied the lobster bib around his neck.

I did not need one. As we sat down and ate and we grabbed the hunks of sweet lobster meat and dipped them in the warm slaty lemon butter and ate I made sure every drop of residual butter flew his way and splatted on his bib.

He glowered at me at one point.

"This one's on me Al" I said. Spack, spack, twick!

"It's good lobster isn't it?" I asked as a big glob of yellow goo started to drip off.

Spack!

"Oops! I missed."

"Very funny," as he wiped his cheek off.

"So what is your beef with God Al?"

"Don't have one Maugam," he said. "Rather have lobster."

A waitress brought over the phone and I hit line two.

"Dr. Malraux?"

"Yes?"

"The baby was just delivered and Mr. Hoffman wanted you to know."

"What did they name him?"

"How do you know it's a him?"

"The name please?"

"Stanley."

"Stanley Ari Nicole Seymour Philip Parker Hoffman?"

"No."

"NO?"

"Stanley Simon Sarah Seymour Jessica Mary Louis Ari Nicole Philip Parker Parker Parker Bowles Hoffman ala Antoine."

"Oh this is a stupid dream."

I hung up and went for another plate of lobster, They had also brought a tray of very large scampi. I was very hopeful I would not wake up anytime soon.

Which was a mistake.
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The end...

Al Michaels on God, part Seven

Michael Clarke Duncan. The Big Man.
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I was on my way to go and wash my face when I met her in the hall. Her hair was wet and sexy. Mary Louise Parker.

She smiled and kissed me on the mouth and said "you are damned sexy."

I love dreams like this. Then she said "Go wash up and meet me upstairs Big Man."

"Big Man?" I thought. I guess I am on the tall side...but it was an unusual reference.

I went into the bathroom of the hotel and washed my face. When I looked up I jumped back. I was Michael Clarke Duncan. Or I looked just like him.

Handsome devil, but a bit imposing. I scared the living crap out of me.

Then Anthony Michael Hall walked in and smiled and used the urinal. I almost stepped on Rodney Allen Rippey on the way out. There was no sign of Fred Dalton Thompson to the right or Tommy Lee Jones to the left.

I crept upstairs to room 333 and entered. Al Michael's was sitting in a comfortible chair and MLP was sitting on the bed nervous.

"It's not my fault!" she said nervously and looking away.

"Hey!" I said "This is my dream and it'll do what I say."

Then Michaels got up and said, "How do you feel Big Man?" I looked down at my huge dark hands and said "I feel really good Al. How are you?"

"I found out my center and my last name Maug." he said cool as placid ice. But there was a hint of menace.

The man in the blue suit showed up in the doorway.

"Should I take him now?" he said.

"Yeah, take him now." Michaels said, and the man hustled me out the door.

On the way down in the elevator he quoted Sartre, Henry Miller, and Miguel de Unamuno.

When he started whispered passages from Hemingway's A Clean Well Lighted Place, I turned and tried to punch him in the mouth. But he had turned into Rodney Allen Rippey and my large hand splintered harmlessly over him into the elevator wall with a crash. He simply gave me a swift kick to the nuts and I fell like a huge stack of newspapers on a New York street corner.

"It was the lobster, idiot," little RAR said. "He would have let you off easy but you had to get cute."

I groaned and the doors slided open on the bottom floor and there was Anthony Michael Hall and Gabriel García Márquez. I looked up half dazed and said to GGM "You're not an actor...what are you doing here?"

"This idiot doesn't know how to tie an animal to a tree," he said. "I do." They dragged me out, still in pain.

They tied me to a tree. Well GGM did. AMH just watched and giggled.

"The wolves will be along shortly," AMH said and GGM said it would be easier to let me go mad.

"Get a beer?" AMH said to GGM.

"Sure," he said. "Can we get nachos too?"

"I'll check."
__________________

Okay so it wasn't the end...but you never can tell with dreams now can you?

Moving video by Green Day. Simple...almost like a tiny film.

The core idea is a good one. How do we get past September? How do we move on?

Beauty

I swam off into sleep and awoke inside a large room. The ceiling was at least 50 feet high and sepia-toned clouds on old wallpaper were high above me.

The expanse of the room was impressive and I knew it was a dream so I got up and marveled at what the human mind can conjure as it sleeps.

Yes, I was awake inside the dream, yet still somewhat it's captive (it is rare to be able to make things happen once inside...but I have done that).

I walked around and it changed. The high ceilings became a dark industrial charcoal which came down about ten feet. The last forty feet became a warm reddish color interspersed with large windows revealing a dark cool blue moonlight. Then I saw the most dazzling array of candles around the room in clustered bunches of 3 or 5 or 7. Stunning really.

I wanted to capture it's beauty and maybe interview a few people along the way. There were others, but they had their own agendas. My agenda was purely aesthetic and simple.

I was dressed in a dark black suit, a white Oxford button-down and good shoes. I walked down the room and turned right past a few other rooms. Each had the same ambiance. There were also some dark black bamboo dividers which were just perfect. The same candles burned in those other rooms with a rich orange glow.

I found a pad of art paper in the kitchen and asked for a few pencils. When I got back to the room I tried to draw it. It was futile.

I am just not that good.

So all I have are my words (this is often the mix in my art). The room is 140 feet long and 60 feet deep. The floors are richly-aged hardwood and there are thick padded sofas and the same bamboo divider for two major areas. I am a bit in awe and try and draw.

No go.

She walks in. I call her "The Betrayer". She is not a looker, she is a seducer. I am leaning back on an ottoman of some sort, trying to draw when she flops down next to me. I have not seen her in 3 years. The candles are burning and the room smells wonderful. It is the most beautiful room I have ever seen.

But it is not my room. I start to believe it is hers. I do not trust her. I do not hate her, I just do not trust her.

She makes a play and I disregard. "I have to draw" but then my drawing sucks. She leaves.

I do not miss her.

I stand up. "You know you are dreaming" I say to myself. "Yes, I know. It's still a good dream. Look at this room. Imagine having candles like that in a regular house," I say to myself.

Recently someone accused me of possessing a split personality. That is ignorant or silly. We all have different streams of consciousness. We all have a song humming away in our head while we work out a line of thought. We also pick our thumbs at the same time. This is not rocket science, it is just the human brain that dreamed up rocket science, the Jupiter Symphony and dreams deep into the night about beautiful rooms that do not exist in time and space.

The human brain is often a gift and a curse. I know mine is. But I had the most beautiful dream last night, and then a funny one after it that made me laugh when I woke up. Then I remembered that I said some pretty stupid stuff last night to my former girlfriend.

Then I wanted to go back to that expansive room and just lay back and take it in, then sleep for a long while as I walked around inside that room and enjoyed all its eloquence and taste.

But it does not work that way.

The room is a momentary gift, a vision of what might be. I place of great beauty, expanse and warmth where we have some real sense of what we want and what we do not want.

Then we wake and have to live.

Next?

A Short Romance

Dylan entered the large room and settled in front of a large movie screen, his back against a pillow and a small split of wine in his bag and some bagette with small pats of butter in a small plastic container. The students filed in and he thought about his opening remarks, but thought it better to simply start the film on time and handle it all on the far end. The lights dimmed and just as the film started to flicker up and spill around the room Regina walked in. He had not seen her since she was, well a girl too young for him to take interest in. But her long black hair and tall thin frame were unique. Large green eyes and smooth cheeks that were Asian, though not really. She saw him and smiled, though it had been at least four years. He had heard she might choose Exeter. She had. She came right over and sat down next to him and said nothing. She just grinned ahead. The movie, a black and white classic, droned on. He leaned over a bit and smelled her neck. She looked at him and he could see her dart in and out as the movie went light then dark. "Can I have some?" she said looking down and up. He gulped, and passed his cup to her and she drank. "And now some bread?" He broked off the bread and fed it to her and the world seem to move away from them. There was no film, no other students, no bread, no wine, just the two of them. He reached up and pushed back her dark hair and smiled. They were in love. They had always been in love and all became quiet like the bottom of a Zen pool and he smelled her again and reached up and drew her into himself and kissed her and she tasted like the sweetest tangerines and smelled of light ginger. He was finally in love and it was a perfect moment that deepened. Then he heard a sound from a distant place that started to grow in intensity. It started low and rumbly and grew more shrill and more loud until it filled the entire hall in an irreversible howl that thundered all around him. The other students fled and Regina left crying. He blinked his eyes. Then again, wide open and saw her, his wife standing over him with a naked child of about 7 months dangling directly over him and the bed and screaching full force. "I want YOU to take care of YOUR child!" she screamed at him, face flushed with fury. "NOW Dylan!" she said. Suddenly the boy quieted down, cooed and started to pee.

Fish & Chips Part 1

Jesus chip.
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He rolled over and looked at the digital read-out. 6:58.

It was getting dimmer outside and he felt hungry, dehydrated and a bit lost.

He groaned and slumped over the side. He felt alone. He was alone and had been so for six weeks. Since that time he had done his best Bill Murray imitation and lived in a sardonic mist of alcohol, old DVDs and the worst food he could find.

The night before it was a 5 pound bag of onion rings dipped in various decaying sauces from the fridge which was last cleaned during the Eisenhower administration. He didn't bother to bake them. He just nuked them until they were like a pile of brown seaweed. He had just slogged them in while watching The Kings of Comedy for the 40th time.

But that was yesterday and today had new challenges food wise. He knew he was getting fat and he thought it amusing. He had never been fat before. All his growing up he was the skinny kid. Had he been the fat kid, given how tall he became, he would have been a great offensive lineman...a walking wall.

But he was always skinny. Till now. He thought it very funny.

"I need chips," he said to the cat. The cat ignored him, then got up and hacked up a furball.

"I'm leaving," he said to the cat.

The cat paid him no mind once it was clear he would not step on her.

______________________________

The walk...

Fish & Chips Part 2

Walking.
____________________

He swung out the door and heard the cat scamper out behind him.

Couldn't hack-off five minutes later outside right?

The sky was clouding up a bit and some nice new air was moving in as he walked downtown. He passed a smoky bar where there was much laughter and the Giants game. Another beauty shop was closing up and the woman inside was very hot.

Shit.

"She'd never go for me" he thought aloud, looking down. But he didn't care that much. HeI stopped at the Asian market and bought a pack of cigarettes.

He did not smoke.

On the way out he grabbed some matches.

He broke open the pack and smelled the fresh tobbaco. He loved that smell..like the newness of a woman and her pheremones all around him. Then the first hit off the lighted match. Perfect.

Then everything turns to shit. Darkness in your lungs, cancer cells activated, bad breath and, well, poison, pure and simple.

It seemed a fitting metaphor, though he could clearly identify the times he had been the cancer cell, the substance, and the match.

he kept walking and kept smoking.

____________________

Dead Man Walking...

Fish & Chips Part 3

Walking 2.
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He threw down and stubbed it out. He liked the black bitter taste in the back of his mouth.

The air was cooling down further which pleased him. He urged towards the Safeway ahead, smelling the fresh cooking from a Chinese restaurant nearby.

But he just wanted chips...chips and onion dip.

When he was a child he was often alone on weekends. No idea where his parents were, but they were not there. So he ate what he ate, all 6 feet and 110 pounds of what he was. So he ate fun stuff. He really liked to eat chips...big Scudder ribbed ones with onion dip all afternoon long and watch movies.

Now he was suddenly 42 and had been alone for a lot of weekends and I guess he just wanted those same chips and dip.

He entered the Safeway and was greeted by a short Chinese man. "Hellow!" he hailed. "Can I gelp you find anything?"

"Er, no." he said. Whatever they pay these folks it is not enough, he thought silently.

He grabbed a bag of chips off the end aisle, then another as they were two for one.

In the cooled aisle he found onion dip on sale.

He thought about some special catfood for the kitty...then thought about the line.

Fuck the cat.

As usual he cruised the vegetable section as if he might someday buy something.

Then he saw her.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck...
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Next...

Fish & Chips Part 4

He falls.
______________________________

He dropped the bag of two for one lettuce salad mix he had been examining.

Dark skinned, small, too small really, with short black bangs, she just looked up at him and smiled with dark brown eyes and he dropped the lettuce.

He felt a shiver reverb through his body like a small earthquake.

He smiled back, then turned away and blushed.

Fuck.

Outside he clutched his bag of chips, dip, a pack of hot dogs, and three bottles of brown ale.

She was walking and he walked behind her, a block back feeling ugly and wrong for doing so.

The argument went on in his head ...on and on...but it was never resolved. He felt clean and dirty at the very same time.

So he followed.

She turned down the darkness that is 2nd avenue and he could see the lighted bar signs reflect off the top of her hair.

Lust.

This was what this was. Not love...it was lust.

He was a natural lover, but this was lust and he wanted her.

Thoughts of kissing her and entering her and making her moan and cry out. That was what he wanted. It cried out from the center of a soul that was utterly empty.

Yes, he was empty. He was a shell clutching a bag of chips, some dip and three beers.

And he was following a woman of substance. He knew it. He felt like a vampire. He felt ridiculous. He felt like a fool. He kept following. He could not stop.
_________________________________

God spelled backwards is Dog...

Fish & Chips Part 5

He was thinking about Bill Murray and Stripes as he went around the back.

He had seen her go up the stairs and, it just came into his head "Razzle-dazzle...black guys help the white guys" Then all hell broke loose.

He slammed the gate and heard the deep growl from behind.

There was a gate between him and freedom. He had entered it and the dog...some black snarkling beast who was about to lunge at his throat was not close enough..if he moved NOW.

He bolted and he, or she, or it...it's hard to be PC when your flesh is on fire..was biting hard into his left ankle and tearing at it.

"Oh God help me!" he prayed in his agnostic head.

He tore way and opened the gate and gave a mighty swing and fuck! The goddamn dog went flying out like a frisbee..end over end.

Slam!

He hunkered down and grabbed the bag and slogged the package of hot dogs over the fence and all was quiet.

Shit.

His relationship with the dog was not over. The dog was outside and he was out of hot dogs.
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Oh who knows...

Fish & Chips Part 6

Yikes!
________________________

He slumped back and breathed hard for awhile. The adrenalin was pumping and he felt sore and lost.

He saw the catwalk above.

The dog howled outside the fence. God was silent.

He thought about her hair and her smile. So sweet, so lovely. He mustered up and climbed up the first walk. He past a dubious window where he thought he saw crack pipes and some grinding about that might have interested him on another night.

But not now.

Level two was a woman, an old woman motionless in front of a televangelist on an old tube. With his smoky white hair he was railing and she seemed quite content.

Level three brought him up short.

A man looked out the very window he was looking in.

The stared at each other for a moment. His face was dark olive and mexican. He grinned finally.

"You look scared" he said.

"I am"

"Wanna beer?"

"Yeah" he answered.

____________________

Beers....

Fish & Chips Part 7

"you gotta name?" the Mexican asked.

"Dicky" he said.

"Nice," as he popped a Moosehead beer and handed it over to him.

"You?"

"Felix," he said calmly.

"Thanks...er, thanks for not shooting me."

"It happens all the time," he said.

"Really," he asked "because of above?"

"Yeah," he said shaking his head, "It's always about above."

Hey!!" Felix sparked up, "How did you get past the dog!?"

"Lucky...and hot dogs".

"Hehe.." he laughed. "Good. Now I don't have to feed him manana. Hehe."

"You do not wanna go up there," Felix said flatly.

Dicky sighed hard.

"I have to," he said finally.

"I know," Felix said. "hey you go to the gym in Marin?"

"Used to."

"Hey, meet me there on Monday at 7 okay?"

"Okay," he said uncommiting.

He knew. They both knew.

But Felix liked him and gave him a smile as he climbed up further into the night.

He just shook his head as he walked away. One less beer, but maybe a new friend.

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Fish & Chips Part 8

She was waiting. Like she knew all along. Short, compact in her chair with a glass of wine in her hand.

The dark blue light was behind her in the window and a small lamp lighted up her body as she sipped calmly.

"You shouldn't be here" she said.

"I know," he said ducking under and through the window frame.

"I saw you in the store," she said.

"Yes," he said. "Me too."

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I wanted chips and dip," he said. "Now I am not sure."

"You are older than I thought and not healthy," she said.

"You speak the truth and you are younger than I thought," he said.

"Do you want me?" she asked.

"I thought I did," he said, "but now I am not sure."

She sighed and looked away. He noted the line of her jaw and it excited him.

Then her eyes. Always the eyes.

His life was, and had been, ruled by the eyes.

So he made his way back out the window in a rush. Too much a rush...and that cost him everything...
_____________________
More in the morning....8 parts in one dau is quite enough...thanks Mitz!

Fish & Chips Part 9

It wasn't as bad as this.
_______________________________________

As he went out the window his shirt caught on an iron part of the fencing and it tore hard as he tumbled off and fell. He hit the next landing hard which knocked most of the wind out of him.

He groaned repeatedly and did an inventory in his head to see if anything was broken. It wasn't.

Felix peaked his head out the window and said "Man, I told you Dude. You okay?"

"Ughhh, er...oh fuck...yeah yeah...I do this all the time...ughuffff."

Dicky could feel that blood was oozing from a gash near his left rib cage.

"Ugh...Felix?"

"Yeah Dicky?"

"I just need a few moments alone," he said. "I'll be okay. I'll see you at the Gym on Monday."

"Really?" grinning.

"Yeah..." groaning. "What time?"

"Around seven."

"Okay...seven," he said quietly. "Now I really just need a moment."

"Okay Bro," said Felix. Then he closed the window and put down the shade.

He laid there for a few minutes until he heard soft bare footsteps from above. He felt certain she was going to hit him in the head with something very large and heavy.

Instead she sat lightly on top of him and in the moonlight peeled back his shirt.

It was still bleeding some. Then he felt her warm tongue on the wound.

Later he would think about that moment over and over again and never quite be able to wrap his mind around it. What was she thinking?

Of course at the moment he was immobilized, bleeding from his side and ankle, a dog was waiting for him just outside the gate and there was a bag of chips, onion dip and brown ale down on the ground.

She opened up his shirt all the way with her hair hitting his chest. She went further down and undid his jeans. He moaned.

"Touch me," she ordered. he moved his hands around her waist, then under her small skirt. Nothing. He was surprised. She licked at his wound again, tasting his salty sweat and blood. She moved on him a few times gently as he pulled her, then he did as he was told and cupped his hand underneath, searching and then finding.

She shuddered and moved more forcefully as he touched her gently.

Felix peered momentarily out of the blinds.

"Stupid cracker," he said shaking his head, then walked away and turned on the television.

Her hand reached down to pull clothing back further and to touch the two most sensitive places again and again. Dangerously close, dangerously warm and very wet.

Then she simple sank down onto him in a moment with a small cry.

He was shocked. The dog laid down by the gate and went to sleep as she worked him quietly, kissing his wound and gently biting his ear as he came inside of her. Then she sighed as she lay down on top of him and they fell asleep.
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The story continues...

Fish & Chips Part 10

He woke up maybe 90 minutes later with her on top of him. The first thing he felt was a pain in his ankle and then his side.

He brushed her hair back and whispered in her ear. "Hey, let's go up."

She moaned and sturred for a moment, then rolled off and stood. She took his hand and they walked up.

He walked into the bathroom and examined his ankle. It wasn't at all good.

There were no bandaids of any kind so he simply washed out his wounds and put his sock back on.

He walked out and she was smoking a cigarette.

He came at sat down at the little red table.

"What is your name?"

"Zara," she said looking off.

The sat silently for awhile until she finished. He thought it curious that she did not ask his name. He shrugged it off.

She stubbed out her cigarette and looked at him directly. "Do you want me again?"

"Yes," he said quietly. " But I don't think it's wise to not have protection."

"Oh you are safe," she said. Then she stood up and unbuttoned her shirt. He gulped. He had not noticed her shape before, just those eyes. "Kiss me like you love me," she said and he did. The rest was a blurring of lines, smashing into bedstands, little bites to nipples, mouthing, tonguing, the dull ache of his side and him finding her. She seemed so small but she gathered him in and arched her back again and again witha hunger which wanted to devour him and his seed.

But this time she was loud. She grabbed his ass and pulled hard and screamed out loud, so much so Felix was awakened in his chair, the TV still blaring on about some new Ronco product.

"Stupid cracker," he said as he walked to the door, left it open and slunked down the stairs to the street to get the dog. "C'mere Rufus," he said and gave him a few good pats. He opened the gate and let Rufus back in then saw the bag.

As he reached it and looked in he heard the deep final groan of a man spent.

"Hell to pay," he said under his breath. "Hell to pay," as he walked back and locked the dog in the yard. and headed up to sleep.
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I have no idea where this is going...