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Archive for April, 2014

April 29, 2014 Leave a comment

Embezzeler

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Categories: life

April 26, 2014 Leave a comment
Just a doodle

Just a doodle

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A NOTE OF THANKS TO YOU, MY BELOVED READER

April 22, 2014 Leave a comment

Knowing you’re out there, reading my writing, and sometimes even telling me that you like it, and sometimes choosing to follow me, mean infinitely more to me than you can know. I began blogging to write anything I want to write, for myself, for the fun it is for me. And then you came along. It makes me feel wonderful.

Now, I write for you, not for me. Still, I can write whatever I want, and that makes me happy. It just occurs to me that I’d like to write something specifically for you. If you have a story line that you’d like to read, send it to me and I’ll see what I can do.

Now I come to the hard part; I ask you to stay with me for a while. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I need to back off a bit in “Oldmine”. I hope you will stay with me, because there is a lot of exciting evolutions and devolutions in Sylvia’s big city life.

Meanwhile, I hope you will visit with my mind-spill at “I was thinking…” and “Katzenyammer” blogs. I’ll do all I can to keep you close, because you’ve given me new life.

Starbound – (thirteen)

April 10, 2014 Leave a comment

“My father is very ambitious and has strong, innate intelligence. He worked hard, and made very shrewd business moves, one by one. He stayed in Whitewood because he was doing well there. He owns the supermarket, the best restaurant, the building supply company, the movie theater, a ladies’ fashion shop and a men’s fashion shop, both in a small shopping center that he also owns. I don’t know what all else.

“So I start high school. I’m a Jewess, and let’s face it, better looking and better built than most, and also top of the class in my studies. The hatred all around me is piling up. Daughter of that little Jew bastard that makes money off of all of us, owning everywhere we need to get stuff.

“The icing on the mess is my mother. She’s a real pig. Fat, ugly, wears a ton of jewellery no matter where she goes. Fur coats, fancy boots, flashy clothes, and drives around in a yellow Mercedes convertible. She’s loud and illiterate, abuses salespeople, abuses waitresses, parks wherever she wants – just everything you can imagine that is offensive and low.”

“Just proves again that quality has nothing to do with money,” Allen said. “Still, it must have been a difficult decision to leave a financially secure situation to traipse of into the unknown.”

“Not really. I never was asked out on a date, and I was the target of disgusting attacks by the girls. It seems the boys talked about what they’d like to do to me, and how they wished their girls were as sexy as I looked.

“There was a really big school dance coming up, and I was sorry I wouldn’t be going, as usual. To my surprise, I was asked to be the date of Herb Touret. He was no gem, but he was a jock and fairly nice so I was glad to go with him. I bought a gorgeous peach-coloured formal dress and was ready to go when Herb picked me up.

“We went to the dance, and I had a pretty good time. Most of the guys who played on the football team with Herb asked me to dance, and Herb danced with me a lot. He was a pretty good dancer. I was surprised.

“When the band went for their break, Herb walked me out into the cool night. A bright moon illuminated the walking path through the stand of hardwood forest along the side of the campus. There’s a picnic area in the midst of the trees, and we sat on the bench seat of a picnic table, just talking. Suddenly the guys from the football team came out of the trees. Herb held me until four of them grabbed me and spread me out on the table. One by one, they raped me for about half an hour, then just left me on the table and went back into the dance. My dress was torn and dirty. My makeup was smeared all over my face like a drunken clown. I called a taxi and went home.

“Couldn’t you scream for help?” Marnie said.

“They had an S&M headgear that held a ball in my mouth. Three of the guys had a second go at me, this time in my ass. They laughed and said my pussy was too sloppy after all that cum.

“Did your go after the bastards, legally I mean?” Allen said, incredulous.

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Starbound – (twelve)

April 4, 2014 Leave a comment

Half an hour later the threesome, Allen, Marnie and Sylvia were sitting at a booth in a quiet neighbourhood restaurant near Marnie’s apartment. After supper and desert, they lingered over coffee to talk.

“Are you from right here in the city?” Allen asked Sylvia.

“No, I came here from a disgusting little town out in the sticks,” she said.

“Another story of a girl who is too pretty for the little home town,” Allen said.

“Something like that,” Sylvia muttered into her coffee cup.

“What do you mean, ‘something like that’…what exactly,” Marnie demanded.

“Does it matter?” Sylvia retorted.

“I guess not,” Allen said.

“But I’d like to know,” Marnie put in. “C’mon kid, you’re among friends.”

Sylvia stirred her coffee idly while she thought about it. Finally, she agreed to tell her story if she had a good reason to do so.

“Oh, there’s a good reason, alright,” Allen smirked. “Your looks are gorgeous and the way you interpret the music with your movements is fabulous. You vocals however, leave a lot to be desired. You’re going to be one of The Bitches, and you’re going to be criticized and analysed by every record company executive, every concert venue manager, and every fucking fan. It’s going to be on my shoulders to make sure you bring to the performance what the performance needs from you.”

“I told you, Syl, that they would give you the voice they want,” Marnie said. Sylvia sighed, and began her tale.

“I was born in Whitewood, a village in Saskatchewan.

“Where the Hell is that?” Marnie laughed.

“It’s a bit west of the Manitoba border and a bit north of the North Dakota border. You might say it’s actually nowhere.”

“So you ran off to the big city, I guess, to make your fortune,” Allen said.

“Actually, I would have had a fortune if I’d stayed in Whitewood.”

“Doing what?” Marnie asked.

“Doing nothing,” Sylvie looked away.

“How so?” Allen asked.

“My father owns most of the town.”

“How is that a burden?” Allen said.

“My father is an Eastern European immigrant, with a strong accent and an illiterate level of English. In a redneck town, that doesn’t go down well. And we’re Jewish, which made us targets for every bigot in town, which was every citizen in town. In high school, I was shunned everywhere. I know it was partly because I’m a Jewess, which I was often called, and worse. So the tale gets more and more depressing.

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Starbound – (eleven)

April 1, 2014 Leave a comment

“Move down to the stage now. They’ll call for you any minute.” Marnie said.

“I’m gonna pee my pants, Marnie. I’m scared.” Sylvia whispered. The tall guy in front of the stage looked up at the engineer.

“Are we done at last, Allen?” he said.

“Last one, Bernie,” Allen replied.

“God, I hope she’s better than what we’ve seen so far,” Bernie grumbled and sat down to face the stage. “Okay, bring her on, and hurry. I can’t take much more of this.”

Marnie physically pulled Sylvia up out of her seat and hustled her down the aisle.

“Here comes the girl you’re looking for, Bernie,” Marnie brazenly called out.

“Marnie, what are you doing?” Sylvia said.

“I’m promoting you, Sweetie,” Marnie said. “Now get up there and do your thing.”

Sylvia mounted the stage nervously and walked to the center. Allen, the engineer was stricken by Sylvia’s remarkable beauty. Even her gently swaying walk exuded sensuality. Allen put a red spotlight on her and dimmed the auditorium lights.

“Allen,” Bernie complained, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I have a feeling about this one, Bernie.” He started Sylvia’s music, which was chosen by Marnie from The Bitches own library of songs.

Sylvia strode across the stage, her perfectly formed, long legs carried her smoothly, with a gait that alone created excitement. She began to sing.

“We don’t have to fear tomorrow
Or hide our deepest feeling
Life is only ours to borrow
And love times ours for stealing.”

Allen’s face was illuminated by the glow of his control panel as he made adjustments to Sylvia’s voice. As she continued, he was able to enhance and amplify her singing that was just adequate, until the sound was right for anyone who wanted to join The Bitches.

“The time will come for each of us
To choose to love or die
Life can be an endless fuss
Or we can let it lie.”

Sylvia’s vocalizing was punctuated by her graceful movements, and the sensuality that poured from the stage. Allen was beginning to want to know this girl that appeared to be different from most. As her performance went along, Sylvia became more and more bold and confident. She forgot about the audience of experts, and simply enjoyed herself as she always did when she was performing. She was carried away by the music, and used every inch of the stage for her movements that seemed to be created by the music, rather than for the music. When it ended, Sylvia was winded and walked to the steps down from the stage.

“You’re right again, Allen,” Bernie said to the engineer.” Then he turned to an older woman that was seated near him, in the second row. “Donna,” he said. “Get this girl’s coordinates. She has potential.” With that, he slung a tan leather coat around his shoulders and walked out the door. Sylvia hurried to Marnie.

“What’s going on?” Sylvia said, breathlessly. Before the black girl could answer, they were approached by Allen.

“Nice job, miss,” he said. “I think you got the job.”

“You’re kidding!” Sylvia said.

“He’s not kidding, Sylvia,” Marnie said.

“Wait here for a few minutes while I shut down, then we’ll go out to talk.” Allen said. “Have you ladies eaten yet?”

“We’d love to,” Marnie put in.

“I couldn’t eat a thing,” Sylvia said. “I’m shaking inside.”

“Ignore her, Allen. She’ll be fine,” Marnie said. The two other people who had been in the front rows were leaving. The older woman, Donna, stopped and turned to Sylvia.

“Nice job, Honey. You’re gonna be just fine,” she said, and left.

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