The Threesome (sample)

I sat at the kitchen table with my hands holding a cup, blowing steam from my espresso. I did this every morning. Being disabled from the military, I’d had plenty of time to think. Sometimes my thoughts drifted to dark places they ought not go. But it’d all changed when a girl moved in next door. I’d lived in an old log cabin with new furniture and a large patio my Grandparents had left me last summer. A lake tucked inside a valley had men fishing. Now, the summer had blended to fall. Black cloud-shaped vapors floated from neighborhood chimnies. As I read a Bible, with a Maxim magazine tucked behind, I caught glances of Jessica pace her porch in a bikini, slamming shots of vodka and rum and coke. I only knew her name because of the mailman’s mix up. I took her the envelope, and I could hardly speak. Jessica smiled as I tripped over my tongue. I left without much conversation, and the whole way back to my house, I thought: You fucking loser. I laughed loud enough for only me to hear. Her piercing ocean blue eyes, and long brown hair that cascaded to the small of her back drew me in like a cokehead addicted after the first hit. I never saw a guy at her house. There’s this girl that lives with her, but no one else visits. Gosh. You probably think I’m some kind of stalker. But I was taken aback by her raspy voice. Jessica’s image, both her shadows and her figure, gave me an insatiable desire for her tantalizing frame.

One night she caught me with my pants unzipped, staring and licked her lips and slammed the blinds shut. She must have thought I was having intimate thoughts about her, but I was just changing clothes. I’m sure I couldn’t convince her of it, though. Other times, she’d dance by herself, knowing that I was flustered to death, reading verses in the Bible.

A dusty bottle of Chardonnay rested on her cabinet with crystal plates and spotless wine glasses neatly arranged on either side. One side hers, the other side mine, at least I’d hoped to drink wine with this woman one day. But the bottle remained untouched. I tapped my chin, wondering why the bottle collected dust. If she didn’t want it, I’d drink it to the last drop. I was too chickenshit to ask, though. Jessica had a red leather couch, and a brown leather recliner positioned adjacent from a large flat-screen TV. A neat freak, I thought.

(unedited sample)

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