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End of the Day

God, what a day. I shove the door shut behind me. For a moment I stand
there in a fog, then I remove my glasses, placing them on the shelf inside
the door. My purse starts to slide off my shoulder as I lean back against
the door, eyes shut. My arms hang straight down, purse in one hand, two
programmer’s reference books in the other. Gravity pulls my hands open,
dropping the bag and books on the floor. Sigh.

Somehow I sense that someone’s looking at me. No. A friend is looking at
me. No, not even that. Dave is looking at me.

My eyes open to see him smiling at me over a book from my favorite chair –
large, sturdy enough to plop on and comfy enough to make plopping worth

“You ok?”

“Grrr. Tired.” Can’t frown at him. I start a smile. [ ...continue reading "End of the Day" ]

The Dance

The night air was pleasant, cool and slightly moist against your
skin, but it brought you no peace. As you leaned out over the
balcony, surveying the reflecting pools and gardens of the
estate stretching out into the moonlight, you tried to relax,
enjoy the panorama, and ignore the sound of the music, laughter,
and dancing in the ballroom down the hall from the study whose
window you had flung open. Flung open at the end of a mad
flight from the ball, trying to escape that which you most
desired and, yet, by which you were most terrified.

The party had begun pleasantly enough. You had come unescorted,
determined you have a good time regardless of who had or had not
come with you. There were enough unattached men, or just
outrageous flirts, to more than fill a casual night. Perhaps
you would meet someone interesting, or particularly attractive,
you had thought, but put the subject from your [ ...continue reading "The Dance" ]

Cry of the Gull

She carries the taste of him, the thought…white noise in her head. The lost time staring through windows at waving trees. The excitement of electronic encounter. Memories from a velvet box…reaching in ASCII to keep them real.

Eight thousand miles is a not unimaginable distance, it is less than that between failed lovers. It is hours on a jet, funds from the bank…logistics. It is less than her sick certainty that he favours distance, less than her awareness that she failed to be real but carries him in her breath and touch. That is real.

Real as three days in Queens Hotel, by the sea. A deep sill and smug, small window. A sill from which she viewed him sleep. She could taste him…breathe in synchrony. A time when the touch and smell of him was implanted. It never left her, even after [ ...continue reading "Cry of the Gull" ]


I was just out cruising around, and decided to follow this truck in front of me that appeared to be doing the same thing. As soon as I pulled up next to the truck this blonde haired girl leaned out and said hi.

She was a knockout. Full head of blonde hair, blue eyes, and full lips. The way she was leaning out the passenger side window made her breasts strain against her silky white top. This was definitely going to be interesting!

I rolled down the window and said hello back. We made some idle chatter while waiting for the light to change, and then she asked me if I wanted to go dancing. I told her yes, and followed her and her friend to one of the local bars.

We pulled into the parking lot and found places to park, albeit not very close [ ...continue reading "Cruising" ]

Hot Days, Cool Baths

It is 5:30 and through binoculars I see her toiling up the long grade through the sage brush, the sweat like a sheen on her shoulders and legs, forming wet patches on her cotton overshirt. Her cycling pants are black, so it is impossible to see the damp that surely plasters them to her straining thighs and hips. She pulls up to the house across the way, and I slip on my headphones. Modern electronics is wonderful. So many ways to keep in touch.

+ + +

They are talking inconsequential things. Well, he’s talking and she’s eating pasta salad and sipping a long cool drink. After she’s taken the edge off her hunger and thirst, there’s a bath waiting…..

The bathroom is dark, the water cool but not too cold, and perfumed with a heady bath oil to keep skin soft. In the sunny hallway, [ ...continue reading "Hot Days, Cool Baths" ]

Coding Love

It seemed he was always standing over her, watching her do her programming. A brilliant computer scientist she wasn’t, but at least she seemed to like computers. The biggest problem with hanging out with her was that she was always coming to him for help, even from the beginning, when she was studying Karel the Robot. And that stuff was so easy. At least they had a common frame of reference. And he got to spend time with her, which, in the long run, made it all worth it.. He loved to spend time with her.

He’d never gone too far with her, for fear of damaging their friendship, but some of the most passionate kisses, and the most intense responses he’d ever received had come from this woman. Tonight was destined to be a wild time. He could just feel it. It [ ...continue reading "Coding Love" ]

The Clit Ring

Her hand rested gently on my thigh, fingernails lightly tracing a random line leading ever closer, ever upward. My arm firmly encircled her waist offering encouragement to her as she was treading cautiously on new ground. Out over the river a full moon was rising and silver points of light on the water flickered a dance of love. “It’s beautiful here,” she murmured then buried her sweet face in my neck. Her warm lips parted slightly and moist breath on my skin began to have a noticeable effect elsewhere. I moved my hand just below her breast and traced the underside with my thumb. She tensed and then replied with a gentle squeeze on my thigh, higher now than ever before. “You know it makes me wonder how you can be so single-minded and aggressive at work and then at times like this, I’m having to make all the first [ ...continue reading "The Clit Ring" ]

Christmas Present

– Around 4 AM —

Movement on the bed woke me up. Beneath the covers, I dreamily turned over and automatically reached out for soft warmth. My hand landed on the bed. Startled, I opened my eyes, and in the dim light cast by the alarm clock, I could see Teri silently walking away from the bed and over to the closet. She quietly took something from it, and headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Ooooh, I think she’s up to something! My whole body tingled, and with pleasant thoughts of her in my mind, I fell back to sleep.

— 7:42 AM —

I know it was 7:42 when I woke up, because the alarm clock’s one- inch-high digits blazed that fact right into my eyeballs. I rolled over and my arm slid outward as I seeked to snuggle against her, and found that I [ ...continue reading "Christmas Present" ]

Casting my Die

Ten years ago, I sat under the hot sun of Regis College to receive a piece of paper (entirely in Latin) that said I satisfactorily graduated from school. Now, as I stand in the sea of ex-football players, social butterflies, and other people, I wish I had spent my $75 on something a little more useful.

One of my friends from Roslindale, Laura Forcucci, was the first persons I met. She once was the cutest person around, but four years of UMass Lowell’s nursing program hardened her naivete well beyond bursting. But to me she was alawys nice, and over a couple of Guinesses we had a nice bitch session about graduate school, among other things. Laura’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when I mentioned that I had just received my doctorate from BU. “You get to shuffle around papers while I shuffle around [ ...continue reading "Casting my Die" ]


A soft, firm knock on the door breaks your concentration as you bend over your work. With a sigh of resignation at yet another interruption to your busy day, you stand up, stretch (from the position you’ve held for far too long this afternoon), and walk to the door. As you pass through the room, your eye flicks with disapproval over the queue of waiting projects: this one needs you today, this tomorrow … a flood of small, medium, and large tasks clamoring for your attention.

Dodging assorted bric–brac, you reach the door and pull it open to a jingle of bells. You’re surprised at who your visitor proves to be. Of the people you expected to find calling at this moment (the landlord, a neighboring friend, a salesman perhaps), he is not one of them. Murmuring greetings and apologies for the frantic activity you must return [ ...continue reading "Busy" ]