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500 Words :: Jo :: 0
    TAGS: 500 words, perfection

It happened one day in the full light of afternoon, on the day before Johnny’s birthday party, as she carefully adhered all the ears on all the Styrofoam mice laid out in front of her on the table, as she mused over the perfection of the day to come, and wondered if her husband would make it back from Iceland on time, given the vicissitudes of the weather as well as the pilot’s strike, when who should appear at the door dressed like a UPS man but her former lover, Juan Francisco, whom she could not help but imagine dressed much like the mice she worked on so minutely and blindingly, and savagely she took him in her arms, planting a juicy tongue-kiss on his well-turned lips, as he stood dumbfounded because truth be told his name was Pete and his twin brother Juan now lived in a West Virginia suburb thousands of miles away, and this incident only cemented his conviction that yes, he was gay, as if he didn’t know already what with the boyfriends and the furtive encounters in off hours with other like-minded drivers, and yes, he needed more than anything else to get the hell out of his current job; it was hell on so many levels, including the driving of the damn truck which was so large and unwieldy, and the shorts, the shorts, the terrible ill-fitting shorts which now comprised half his wardrobe at least, and sometimes alone in the truck he cried out, “Horrible horrible shorts, how I hate thee!” very poetically, because after all he had a Ph.D. in Classic Literature from a prestigious university in Florida; but suddenly he was aware that the kiss had not yet stopped, but rather he had forgotten about it in his reverie, so he pushed the woman away and asked her what the hell she was doing, and she said, Juan, I remember you Juan, and he said No, it’s not me at all, I mean, I’m me, but I’m Pete, and Juan is my twin brother who lives in West Virginia in the suburbs, and can I use your phone because I need to (he trailed off as he entered the house to look for the phone) and Kate yelled that the phone was in the kitchen and he was welcome to it; that’s when she went into her own reverie about her magical romance with Juan, who had been by far the best lover she’d ever had over to her small room during college; they would lie for hours in her bed and he poetically described the angle of the light playing on her body, which of course was all she needed to take up their happy lovemaking again, but wait, she was brought up short, how could she want him when her husband was on his way back from Rekyavik, and how did you spell Rekyavik anyway, and what happened to that driver, she thought quickly, and that was all.

January 25, 2007 at 4:21 AM



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