AGE IS A BITCH

Elsa hated this job.

It wasn’t too long ago that she was in the islands doing bathing suit shoots, staying in the best five star hotels, being wooed by the richest and best looking men. Now she’s in a dirtied up backlot pimping shoes for print ads and they won’t even show her face for fear of losing their younger crowd.

If someone had told her that by 30 she’d be a washed up model with no career, no savings, no friends, and no future, she would have stayed in Idaho and married Tommy Keebler and raised his babies.
Elsa’s shoulders sagged as she sighed heavily, searching her brain to find the silver lining in this stormy raincloud she called her life.

Hell, she still had great legs and after this shoot, she’d have a kickass pair of shoes, too.

WE NEVER FEARED

Way back then
We had hope
We had dreams
Me the president
You my vice
Hillary and Bill

THE YEAR THAT WASN'T

They promised to meet every year on their birthday in the spot where their birthday suits were all they wore for their first time together and every time since.

They'd met in that very spot on this beach ten years earlier, when life's currency was their innocence and when adults made the unbendable rules that they gleefully and wickedly broke.

Every summer they returned with their families then later by themselves, just the two of them.

They have no contact the rest of the year, just an annual date for a week of carnal bliss.

It was agreed they would meet no matter who was in their lives because this was separate and different, but if by chance one of them truly fell in love, they reserved the right to pull out.

This year, he didn't show up.

NO MORE BEDTIME FOR BONZO

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Starla counted to six while the vapors took effect then confidently whisked past the unconscious security dwarf.

Most people were annoyed and angered that dwarves had gotten first dibs in the government's genetic lottery that duplicated their defective DNA and turned them into superhumans, but Starla knew there was more than met the eye.

She wound through the building's labyrinth that would baffle anyone else, but Starla intuitively knew where to go, having gotten a little genetic tweaking herself.

She was obviously chosen for this job for her stealth and skill and she knew the peace of the world was dependent on her finding that one person who could once again bring about unity, that one person who could make them beat their swords into plowshears.

Then she found him, packed away in all his frozen glory amongst centuries old computers and other ancient artifacts from a time when humanity measured success by its gross excess.

Starla used her pocket knife to spill her golden blood onto the security pad, punched in the 100,000-digit code she memorized, and watched the brainwaves of Ron Reagan come to life on the screen as she prepared to ask him the favor of a lifetime.

GOD BLESS THE LAZY AMERICAN

They came out of the woodwork from every corner of the earth: the Greek, Russian, Italian, Romanian, French and British businessmen, all together for the annual summit.

They had impeccable manners, dressed beautifully, gave generously to all who served them, and were fiercely competitive with each other for the attention of the lone female bartender, drowning her with compliments but all the while maintaining respect.

They were all far superior to the slacker American who tipped poorly, tracked their entitlement to free drinks, and shamelessly hit on her as she worked her twelfth hour and endured their wrath when she politely turned them down.

The Europeans were a nice change, she thought, as her hotel bar filled for the evening with the raven haired gods, all white smiles and twinkling eyes.

But as the week wore on, the testosterone became heavy and suffocating, their competitiveness shined through as an ancient hubristic practice, and their elevated standards became a bar too high to jump.

Exhausted, she yearned for the lazy, rude, cheap American male who gave little but expected just as little from her in return.

DEAD PRESIDENT?

Jack sat on the fiercely guarded deck and looked out at the misty mountain range, mulli

ng over for the thousandth time the irony in the Russians being his savior whereas the Cubans were his downfall.

However indiscreet his affairs, this subterfuge was a hundred times more scandalous – if anyone ever found him.

The two countries’ partnership, long ago abandoned, was just a ruse meant to end here, with him in captivity at their beck and call.

Jack calculated the strength of the guard closest to him and realized he was too old to attempt another escape with a simple elbow to the guy’s nose.

Instead, he closed his eyes and called up the memory of kissing Marilyn, who was also secretly there with him until she died –truly died - three years ago of an aneurysm.

Reaching into his pocket, he fingered the presidential pin, the last reminder he had of who he used to be: the much loved, revered, elegant, powerful JFK.

PULLING AN OBAMA

Chuck closed his eyes, threw his head back and inhaled the heavenly scent that reminded him of home, back in Kentucky.

His nose and lungs filled with air laced with the earthy, mind boggling aroma that made his spine tingle and his brain synapses dance.

Scenes filled his head: horses racing on a muddy track in spring, old men with big glasses cheering on their bet, pretty Myrtle in her yellow sundress playing coy as he tried to kiss her behind the bleachers.

Smells could do that – bring you back to a time when life was good, before you knew better.

The squeaky back door opened and Chuck’s wife Linda glared at him, her eyes moving to his hand and what he was holding.

Sometimes I just slip, he told her unapologetically as he stubbed out the incriminating cigarette in her pot of marigolds, pausing only briefly before following her back inside.

CHEESEBALL CHALLENGE - A CHEESY 6S POEM

roses are red, violets are blue.

i hate "the man" and i know you do, too.

what's the real meaning of life?

It's just a series of seven year itch.

But it always comes full circle

Warning: Payback's a bitch

ST. PAT'S REVELATION

Every holiday was special, with small gifts to represent the tradition’s heritage even if it wasn’t theirs, but this year her mother gave her a claddagh ring.

It looked expensive and old.

Sarah smiled curiously as she slipped it on and looked into her mother’s brimming eyes.

Thanks but this seems like too much, she said, we’re not even Irish.

Her mother sighed heavily, unable to meet her daughter's eyes and said, we’re not but you are.

It’s time I told you, she admitted to a stunned Sarah, that you real father is Irish, so happy St. Patrick’s Day and don’t tell your dad.

BALL AND CHAIN

Jackie slipped into the silky white material that cost her two month’s salary and pressed a peony to her nose that was part of her bridal bouquet.

He’s late, they told her, but she wasn’t worried since he always ran late and hadn’t stood her up yet.

He’s probably picking up my wedding present, a wonderful set of pearls or maybe a diamond bracelet, something better than he got his first wife, she thought.

She smiled and peeked out at the small crowd waiting for their procession, mostly her family and friends since his had sided with his wife in the divorce.

It’s him, someone said as a phone was pressed to her ear and his silky voice came through.

She stared, stone cold, then looked at them and announced, he’s not coming because he never got divorced.

FAKER - A LITTLE LONGER

Geread was tired of faking it any longer.

For ten long years he’d pretended to be a gay ice dancer because, after all, it was just easier to be gay in that profession.

Unfortunately, his local community were having a hard time believing him ever since the looks he gave Seala, his partner, and the heat that passed between them had become so obvious to everyone that he was ready to "come out" and profess his love for her.

He kicked off his skates and changed out of his sequined competition outfit into something manly and rugged then headed for the glass elevator that would bring him to the celebration party.

Geread leaned against the glass and looked out.

In the room below, Seala leaned into Rob, laying her lips lightly on his and Geread realized he’d have to fake it a little longer.

AVERAGE JOE

Joe watched his brother hitting on his best girl, the one he was in love with but wouldn’t date because he just couldn’t let one woman be all things to him.

That would make him dependent and if there was anything he prized, it was his freedom and independence.

She was “just a friend” but the guys all knew what that meant and stayed away from her.

What’s wrong with him, she asked, he keeps glaring at us.

Baby brother likes his bottles full and his women empty unlike me, he said, and led her out of the bar to a waiting cab.

Joe eyed up the perky blonde bartender as he downed his whiskey, thinking one night with her might be the perfect antidote to a broken heart.

BOYS

Shadows of lonely pews dance like fanged monsters across the cathedral walls in the distorted light of a dying candle. A gray haired priest stoops at the church altar, his face wet with tears and sweat after hours of repeating his agonizing mantra.

“Father, help me . . . Father, forgive me . . .” Staring at the ghostly statue of a crucified Christ, he rubs his Rosary beads endlessly as blood stains his fingertips.

He knows what he did and he knows there is no redemption for it. No matter how long he prays or how much he begs, he knows he is going to hell.

THE HOMEFIELD ADVANTAGE

She wasn’t the prettiest girl at the party – not by a long shot – but he was drawn to her just the same. Her free flowing white dress danced in the breeze, wafting its fragrance in his direction. She smelled of sunshine, lilacs, and heavily bleached linen. She reminded him of the summers he spent at the beach as a kid. He approached and stood close behind her, inhaled her scent, and watched the trickle of sweat run down her neck and pool in her bosom. He closed his eyes and knew he'd found home.

THE FINAL CUT

Elsa sat in the expensively decorated waiting area, flipping through a catalog of noses, vainly searching for youth. Her nose had widened and thickened through the years, as it does with everyone, the bulbous tip becoming more pronounced. Her husband said that thinning it would make her look Jewish. Elsa assumed he meant Austrian, since she didn't look the least bit German, Polish, or Israeli. Austrians have the straightest noses. As she sat later in the Hollywood eatery unable to get service, she pulled out a compact and pinched the tip of her nose, imagining what it would look like and wondering if she would get waited on faster.