Samantha's story

SAMANTHA THE AGGRESSOR

A Fictional Biography of Sam, the Little Whirlwind

By Izzy Ess of Craziness

Samantha was a little whirlwind in a compact little female body.  At three she cornered John and tied him to a tree and pulled down his pants to see his wee-wee.  Satisfied it was a little thing, she didn’t feel as threatened as she had when she had seen her dad’s huge thing.  Her mother’s bush was bad enough.  Her father’s tuft of hair and long and thick appendage looked like trouble to her tiny mind, and of course her tiny body.  John’s hairless little thing and little sac was just her size, she figured.  She won’t have to deal with older men until she, herself, got older.  Relieved, Sam seemed to need assurance that she wasn’t wrong.  John was happy to be with his little friend and liked when she would tie him to a tree or post and pull his pants down.  Lately, she’d been feeling him and that felt really good.  It felt a little good for Sam, as well.

Samantha’s reputation spread around the neighbourhood.  At ten, she attracted every ten year old in town and gathered them inside someone’s backyard and lined them up, as if she were a sergeant drilling new recruits.  She got undressed herself and then paraded up and down the ranks of undressed little boys and girls, inspecting all their bodies with a stern approach that frightened some, but mostly thrilled the bunch of them because she checked them out with fingers and her tongue to check the taste.  She recognized that certain parts would get a little firm when stroked and some would get a little bigger if she tongued them.  The parents who observed her were alarmed at first and some of them attended morning or the evening drilling and inspections.  They discussed amongst themselves the innocent clean fun that younger children got from showing off their private parts.  They were satisfied there was no danger to them.  If anything, the larger crowds of youngsters was assuring to most parents that no harm would come of it.  They recognized that Sam was born to lead and boss all others mercifully, tenderly and thoroughly.

As Sam got older and approached her menarche, her troops would still line up for her, remove their clothes while she removed her own.  Sam’s inspections probed more deeply into everything, including tiny openings and ever bigger private parts.  Samantha seemed to be concerned with fitting, sizing and accommodating.  She way lay a bigger boy down on the ground supine an pull his wee-wee ‘til it stood up straight and then climb on it with her private parts to see if his raised mast would fit inside her.  She did experience deposits of some semen, sometimes.  She often paired her subjects and arranged to see if they would fit together, properly.  The parents really were alarmed and asked their progeny to cease their drilling by Samantha.  Sam was disappointed in her loss of leadership.  She carried on her observations, then, in private, in a bedroom, or behind someone’s garage.  When some parents learned of these quite private lessons, they objected strongly and complained to Sam’s own parents who were not concerned about their daughter’s explorations.  They claimed that all suburban children did this, more or less, a part of, “Let’s play doctor-nurse,” or “if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”  Most parents passed it off in memory of their own innocence.  Some banned their kids from seeing our Samantha, or letting her proceed with her explorations of their private parts.  Some parents moved to other neighbourhoods to get away from Sam.

All such activity was ceased when Sam discovered she was pregnant at the tender age of fifteen and a half.  All the parents had laid down the law: “There will be no more contact with the evil Sam!”  A spontaneous abortion ended Sam’s confinement.  Her parents did admonish her, and that was that.  There were no further explorations.  Sam was grounded with authority and closely watched by her own parents and the others in her neighbourhood.

At school, the teachers watched her too, especially when one young male new teacher started spending time with her.  This young man was dismissed summarily and Sam was guarded everywhere she went.  Sam had, in fact, become familiar with this middle twenty teacher and had successfully contrived to see if his large thingy could, indeed, be fitted into her maturing, and much larger, inner chamber.  Sam was saved from being ousted by persistent help from her own parents and the teachers that were liberal enough to see that Sam was more aggressive than the average teen and just needed stricter boundaries.  At college, Sam fit in with everyone’s idea of how young students do behave.  She wasn’t watched too closely when she turned eighteen and seemed to do what all the other eighteen year old students do.  She had become a beauty, attracting many students to her side.  Successfully, she ran for student council.  In her last year at the Staunton College, she was Student Council President and an A+ student as well as captain of the winning co-ed hockey team.  She gave three speeches at the graduating ceremonies, one as Valedictorian, one as Captain of the most winning team, ever seen at Staunton and one as Student Council President.  Everyone agreed the future held some grandiose excitement for their Sam who made them proud to be a parent in the neighbourhood.

Sam’s academic record was outstanding and it qualified her easily to enter Schools of Medicine everywhere she did apply.  She chose the Faculty of Medicine of the University of Toronto, in Canada.  She said she wanted a fresh start, as far from the old neighbourhood in Cleveland, as she could get, in quite another country.  Sam excelled in Physiology, Anatomy, Histology and Embryology, Pathology, Internal Medicine and Surgery, Obstetrics, Gynecology and Paediatrics.  She did not excel in any class or patient clinic which involved Psychology or Psychiatry.  She either got the lowest marks or failed despite her huge successes in the other fields.  Sam became depressed.  The student clinic gave her counselling on a weekly basis.  Suicidal ideation was alarming to her parents and her doctors.  Referred for psychiatric consultation, it was decided to admit Samantha to the prestigious Psych Ward of Sinai General, a part of the hospital complexes of the Faculty of Medicine at the University of Toronto.  The suicide precautions were so very strict and Sam became discouraged by the isolation in a padded room.  She went into a catatonic state, sitting in the corner of her padded room, staring at the light that came from overhead.  Sam’s parents used the huge Macdonald to stay to visit daily their own precious daughter.  The psychiatrists were not too optimistic as they tried to give her anti-psychotic medications and electroconvulsive therapy.  It took three months for Sam to start awakening and acting somewhat normally.  The diagnosis was a kind of personality disorder which they dubbed as Schizophrenia, now known as being genetically determined.  The consultants insisted that it had not so much to do with her childhood and teenage behaviours, but was part and parcel of the wider diagnosis, Schizophrenia with Catatonia.  She was discharged under supervision of her parents and with strong referrals to the Cleveland Clinic Psychiatric Hospital for continuing care and diagnosis.  The newest forms of medications were prescribed which needed detailed monitoring for their side-effects and overall effectiveness.  Returning to her medical school was deemed impossible.

Samantha at age 25 was most attractive, seductive and manipulative.  Often she would stop her medications without consulting with her doctors or her parents.  Her parents tried some further consultations with the experts at the famous Menninger and Mayo Clinics.  The advice consistently forbade Samantha from altering her medication regiments and consistently did recommend that she see consultants frequently for regulations of her medications and some intensive cognitive and behavioural modification therapy techniques.  Response was generally quite favourable.  By thirty, Samantha could be gainfully employed in the Medical Records Department of the Cleveland Clinic, coding, filing and retrieving records, successfully and expertly.  She was advanced to be Assistant Head of the Department, at age 35.

Samantha could have been a movie star.  She had a part-time job at Ristorante Genoa, where she acted in the murder mysteries presented nightly for the patrons.  Her beauty and good acting drew a crowd and higher bonuses and tips for her and larger incomes for the Ristorante.  The owner featured her in their advertisements.  Her photographs were sold as souvenirs for patrons of the restaurant.  She reduced her time in medical recording and she concentrated more on her career as star of Ristorante Genoa’s evening’s entertainment show.  A wealthy visitor from old Chicago fell in love with her and asked her for a date.  She dated Chester Highland for some twenty weeks and married him.  He’d learned about her psychiatric history and didn’t seem to be affected by it.  Samantha’s parents met Sir Chester and approved of marriage for her to this wealthy, gentleman.  Samantha moved with Chester to his million dollar condominium in downtown Chicagoland.  A consultation was arranged with experts at the Psychiatric and Psychosomatic Institute of Chicago’s famous teaching hospital, The Michael Reese, on Lakeshore Drive, in South Chicago.  Sam hooked up with Dr. Samuel Ben Isaacstein.  The two Sams got along really famously.  Monthly visits were the rule with regulation of Sam’s medications which were lower in their dosage than before.  Samuel was pleased and thought Sam might benefit from Adlerian approaches to her illness, and she did.  She became adept at self-analysis and accurate evaluations of her state of mind.  Sam looked forward to the day when medications were no longer needed.

Chester was a marvel with her.  He would have liked some children but this was strongly objected to by all Sam’s doctors because of medications and the probable genetic psychiatric problems that a child might have.  Samantha and Sir Chester had started adoption procedures.  They chose two twin boys from Chicago’s south side of Afro-American descent and the adoption was approved.  The happy family was happier by far than Sam had ever dreamed.  The boys, named Samuel and Chester, were delightful and intelligent, creative and so playful.  In Chicago, as in old New York, the schooling choices were important.  A magnet school was found which offered drama and scholastic subjects.  Sam and Chet auditioned and were accepted in the old schoolhouse on Highland Avenue.  Their parents attended every performance of the twins who quickly let all school mates in both the acting and the academics.

Chester died of coronary blockage when the boys were twelve and Sam was sixty.  She was still a beauty.  Dr. Sam was careful to jump right in.  He asked Samantha to be his wife, if she still desired him after one full year.  Our Doctor Samuel referred her to another psychoanalyst to avoid any claims of ethical misbehaviour.  Samantha agreed to wait.  Dr. Sam took Sam to be his lawful wedded wife.  The twins were glad that mommy was again quite happy.  Chester’s money legacy was quite extensive.  There would be no money problems, especially with the marriage to the psychoanalyst.  They moved to the penthouse condominium atop a glassed-in dome on Lakeshore Drive when Dr. Sam retired.

What else is there to say?  Sam and Sam lived happily atop their glassed-in condo ‘til they died, at ages 96 and 94.  The boys went on to Second City and Saturday Night Live.  Their careers as comics were successful as a twin career.  Sam would die of a drug overdose at age 35.  Chet was hit, and killed, by a drunken taxi driver on Wabash Avenue, just before a scheduled Jazz and Comic show at the Palmer House at age 37.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

August 28, 2013

milady janet

MILADY JANET WINDERMERE

AND THE YOUNGER DUKE PIERRE

An Ancient Royal Tale of Tail

By Izzy Ess of Sneakiness

Milady Janet Windermere was seventeen when she first dated Johann Christian Windermere.  She was a virgin still and wanted to remain so for the wooing, so that she could say with confidence that she was still a virgin on her wedding night.  Sir Windermere was thrice her age but she agreed to marry him when her own father recommended that a fortune could be made if she was wedded to this older man, in that, his royalty would merge with Henry Huntington’s successful business making rubber products which included condoms.  Ms. Janet Huntington was practical and much inclined to give her father credit for the business proposition which allowed her father to be blessed with royalty behind his rubber products.  The deal was struck, so with the marriage, Henry could emboss his letterhead with something heady like, “THE CONDOM MAKER FOR THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND.”  The queen, Queen Jezebel the Slut, expressed her pleasure with the Huntington’s ideas and their money and their products.  Janet would become a Duchess, married to the Duke of Bumble Dee, a district north of Nottingham.  The publicly announced virginity would add to the Mystique Fantastique, eh? The second Duke of Bumble Dee, a young man who had much experience with single and some married women, fell in love with Janet and expressed himself in no uncertain terms.  He asked if he could surreptitiously remove the stigma of virginity for Janet in return for his undying loyalty to her and his own father.  Some naïveté played a big role as Janet said, “OK!” to tall and handsome younger Duke, Pierre of Bumble Dee.

The night was moonless, dark and quite foreboding when the younger Duke, Pierre, met Janet secretly behind the barn in Bumble Dee.  He helped her show her derriere to him and he proceeded to give all he had to her.  Her cherry popped quite easily, without a drop of blood.  She put her palms down on the grass behind the barn while Sir Pierre stood upright just behind her derrière.  She liked it very much and kept her derriere quite steady, while the Duke was vigourously pumping her completely full of semen.  Grunts and screams were muffled by the duke who had a lot of stamina.  Ms. Janet matched his durability and they continued ‘til the break of dawn.  The flora and the fauna just enjoyed the show.  Ms. Janet covered up her derriere while the younger Duke of Bumble Bee retracted his big sword.  They kissed and hugged quite tenderly and then snuck back to their own homes.  They met again each night for two whole months while all the while the families were planning for the bigger show, the marriage of Ms. Janet to the older Duke.  The younger man contrived to get his prize into the barn where they could do their dance while naked.  Both enjoyed the nakedness and tried so many ways to make real certain that her publicized virginity was gone.  Their secret was so safely done; they just relaxed and had a ball.

The gala wedding was to be enjoyed by everyone in Bumble Dee and London and the other Earthly Royalty that came from far and wide.  The queen, Queen Jezebel demanded to receive the first rights of her royal station by enjoying wedding night virginity demolishing, herself, before the older Duke could do his thing.  And so, Queen Jezebel, The Slut, got down and dirty with Ms. Janet who’d been well instructed on behaviour aimed at showing that some blood was on the sheets to show the guests who came from far and wide to witness everything.  A tiny sac of lamb’s fresh menstrual blood was used to stain the bed sheets.  Neither Queen nor older Duke, nor Henry Huntington could see the ruse which had so cleverly been set up by the younger Duke.  No one observed that Janet was a little pregnant.  Slut was satisfied when she was tonging Janet that she broke a cherry.  Jezebel was overweight and looked a lot more pregnant than the bride.  Our Janet understood her role: she tongued the Queen to get her mind all disentangled.  The Queen and Janet rubbed their breasts together while Ms. Janet fingered Jezebel, The Slut.  The sheets were shown to all of Earthly Royalty and garnered loud applause.

As time went by, the Duchess entertained the younger Duke each afternoon and played around with the old Duke at night, no more than once a week, on Fridays, after candle lighting and the evening’s prayers.  The child who had been blessed was dubbed the Princess of the Bumble Dee, and named Persephone Penelope.  She had the privilege of watching all the great activities with younger Duke Pierre.  Penelope would suckle while the Duke was at his lover’s derriere, ever pumping her with warm and fuzzy goodies.  Duchess Janet liked to gobble honey chocolate cookies while she was enjoying the attention of Penelope and young Pierre.  Her second pregnancy was heralded throughout the land.  It was a bouncing baby boy, the Prince of Bumble Dee who got the other breast while the young handsome Duke Pierre still liked the derriere of the young Duchess.  Another round of heralding throughout the land was featured by a band of trumpeters who played some madrigals for everyone.

In 1191, while Berne in Switzerland was built, Queen Jezebel, The Slut, expired of apoplexy.  The older Duke of Bumble Dee was next in line to reign in England.  The younger Duke poured hemlock in his ear while he was sleeping with such great results.  At his grand funeral, the older King of England’s will announced that all his wealth and power would be passed to Duke Pierre, who now became the King.  The Queen of England, Janet, The Real Virgin, married King Pierre in ceremonies which were lavish more than ever with a golden coach and four huge Clydesdales, way before Anheuser Busch created beer and built St. Louis, Cardinals and all.  Our King Pierre, The Durable, drew up the plans for Bumble Hive, the Royal Castle, to replace the one in Bumble Dee, which was then used for summer fun and much frivolity.  The Church of Bumble Dee became officially the Church of England which was governed by the Roman Catholics with an iron fist.  The fun that Janet and Pierre were having had to be clandestine as the Roman Catholics did decree that sex was only done for pro-creation, ignored by Janet and Pierre.  They continued having fun in bed, unless the priest had come to live with them to re-enforce the Ten Commandments plus the Rules and Regulations that were part of Hebrew Scrolls from Genesis to Deuteronomy.  Our King and Queen, Pierre and Janet were so certain that the Pope would be kicked out of England and replaced by Canterbury’s Bishop who would allow some gluttony and greed to spice up lives in Anglo-Saxony.  Pierre admitted that he liked the Right of Kings, allowing him to pop an hundred cherries every month.  So secretly, the newly wed young virgins lauded King Pierre for his enthusiasm and his wide experience which made them happy brides with happy pregnancies.

In all those early days, the Dragons were alive.  Unfortunately, King Pierre, Queen Janet and their thirteen children were devoured in 1211, just before the Magna Carta disallowed devouring by the Dragons of the Realm, in 1215.  In Sherwood Forest, and the other Forests, Robin Hoods were forced to cease their coveting and bearing of false witness.  Sloth and Envy then ensued.

Eventually, William Shakespeare left his wife in Stratford and began his playful Chronicles of Kings and Queens and Tempests.  King Pierre, Queen Janet and their thirteen children and the hundreds of the other children were forgotten, save in this briefly told histoire.

I researched early English History and found a Madrigal which had been sung in 1214 describing all the details of Pierre’s and Janet’s lives.  Presenting them right here in Canada in 2013 has been delightful, eh?  I hope you have enjoyed the reading of it, just as much as I enjoyed recording it, for you, my darling readers of this blog on Google’s Blogger.

The End

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

August 24, 2013

i dream of izzy

I DREAMT LAST NIGHT OF ISOBEL

An Ode to Darling Izzy

En Pentametre Iambique

By Izzy Ess of Inverted-Ness

I dreamt last night of Isobel.  We used

To be an item: Dear Izzy and Darling

Izzy.  In my dream, I flew to old

New York and took the Subway south to Yuppie

Town.  I met her in our old café,

The Thirsty Caffeine Addict, eh?  We kissed

Each other on the lips and pressed our bodies

Very tightly to each other.  Then,

We held our hands and walked toward her old

Apartment house on Chaucer Street.  We passed

Some vendors on the street and bought some baubles,

Like the way we used to do when we

Had lived together.  She had grasped my hand

So tightly, it was getting numb.  I thought

It might be difficult to tell her that

No longer was I able to perform

What we had done a zillion times.  It always

Was completely different and much more

Exciting than the time before, until

The day she had evicted me because

She felt that I was ogling other women

Much too much.  Exchanging some perfunctories,

Initially, we stopped communicating

And accepted our decision

To turn upside down to handle our

Sad break-up.  Realizing I was dreaming,

I relaxed because no union would

Be felt this night.  I ran out to the street

To try to find the transportation back

To my reality, to no avail.

I woke up sadly with a dose of realism,

Shivering and stiff.  My breakfast

Was the usual left-overs of

A turkey stew with curry, garlic and

Some freshly cut tomatoes, carrots and

Asparagus.  My state of upside-down

Was still persisting as I let my missing

Of my Darling Izzy settle in.

Perhaps I’ll dream of her again tonight

And have the capability of doing

What we used to do a zillion times!

A wish by any other name is still

The same as kangaroo, kiosk or krill.

The End

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

August 24, 2013

limericks canadiana

SOME CANADIAN SHENANIGANS

A Lengthy Set of Limericks

By Izzy Ess of Inverness

There was a young woman from Hamilton

Who wanted to move out to Edmonton;

She chartered a bus

And started to cuss

Because she was fat and she weighed a tonne.

A handsome and intelligent young man

Proposed a good plan for the Taliban;

He sought out a train,

A boat and a plane

And followed the trail of the Klu Klux Klan.

Miranda, the fattest one on the bus

Outfitted the president with a truss;

She sat on his lap

And started to clap

For Hoover and all of us full of lust.

Jehovah made deals with a platypus

To take a quick ride on the omnibus;

Suffice it to say,

In old Hudson’s Bay,

Samantha ate her lunch without the crust.

Pierre was sitting on his derriere,

With Princess who was extraordinaire;

They danced through the night –

It was such a sight

While eating a darker chocolate éclair.

The terminal end of this long limerick

Will get a chocolate ice-cream cone and lick;

Before it is done

There’s good and clean fun –

Ezekiel will profit with a flick.

An architectural phenomenon

Suggested we dance and just get it on;

It’s never too late

To tempt all your fate

Creating a fuss on the Rubicon.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md., Welland, Canada, August 24, 2013

Ms. Juliana

Ms. Juliana, We Love You!

A Tale of Tail in Iambs

By Izzy Ess of Sexlessness

Ms.  Juliana Farthington remained behind to catch the eye of Simon Cinchovitz whom she thought handsome and intelligent.  She’d met him in the old Hotel De Ville, on Saturday when she was dancing with her husband, Carlos, and Herr Cinchovitz was playing second violin in Manuel Ben Muscovite’s Jazz Orchestra and Marching Band.  Her Carlos did excuse himself to go outside to smoke a chocolate cigarette, thus leaving her to talk to Simon, when he took a break.  It only took a moment for her to completely vibrate with delightful Simon’s charms and silly jokes.  She re-commenced her dancing with her Carlos, when the band re-played the “Walk of Elephants,” a less offensive melody than “Woks of Sycophants.”  She tried to glance at Simon and to flash her naked thighs at him, but he was busy bowing on his violin, a Stradivarius, that he had owned for many years.

The very next day, Juliana went to meet her older friends.  She’d met them weekly since the end of 1991, when Maude and Mabel, Penny and Persephone, had asked her help for Loneliness of Widowhood, which they experienced when all their husbands died of fatal injuries in the same auto accident on Hallelujah Hill.  Ms. Juliana was impressed by their sincerity and serendipity.  Manuel Ben Muscovite’s Jazz Orchestra and Marching Band was entertaining all the diners in the gourmet restaurant.  Ms. Juliana spotted Simon and was surreptitiously thrilled.  The jabbering four ladies faded out as she stared right at Simon who had winked at her, flirtatiously.  The ladies were oblivious to Juliana’s odd behaviour, and they left to go about their business, leaving Juliana to her chocolate sundae and her cappuccino demitasse.  She made a move to get a little closer to the orchestra and managed to retrieve a seat right underneath the stage.  She flashed her cleavage at poor Simon who couldn’t see the consequences of his lust for Juliana.  On her part, Juliana seemed to throw all caution to the winds, as openly she signalled to this Simon that she was available.  She knew she was a little older than him but she was so confident that he would fall for her.

Ms. Juliana and her target, Simon, left the restaurant together when the Orchestra stopped playing with a final flourish, “Oklahoma!”  Simon took her hand and fondled it while Juliana fondled back.  Without a word, the couple went directly to the old Hotel Desire and leased a room for one whole hour.  Once in the room, they locked the door and ripped each other’s clothes as they got naked.  They jumped upon the bed and joined their bodies in a horizontal waltz.  They waltzed for one whole hour and left by separate exits to the street but not before they planned another meeting in the afternoon on Tuesday.  Thereafter, for a year, the couple met each Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and each Saturday, in the afternoons, for one whole hour of very tight communion and some horizontal dancing.

Carlos was suspicious of his wife who said she had a standing date to meet her lady friends, Maude, Mabel, Penny and Persephone for afternoon discussions and some gourmet snacks.  Herr Carlos was reminded of the time just after they were married that she had a wild affair with old Pierre, the owner of The Gallery for Modern Art.  She ended up as his nude model and she was found out when old Pierre displayed her frontal nudity in his own Boutique window.  Carlos spotted his own wife displaying all her frontal charms for all to see and told her to get out.  Ms. Juliana calmed him down with fondling and some sweet talk and did promise him that her affair would terminate as soon as her Pierre completed his full-sized Italian marble statue of the likeness of her body.  Carlos asked if he could see them work together.  Pierre accepted Carlos and convinced him he should pose with Juliana, naked and entwined and possibly enjoined.  Our Carlos was enthralled by this idea and he stripped down to total nudity, right there and then.  Pierre positioned them to simulate love making which did mean that Carlos would engage his wife in sexual activity while old Pierre chiselled marble blocks.  Pierre was sneaky and he convinced poor Carlos that he had a beauty of a butt.  He said he had a bright idea for his next art project.  He positioned Juliana on the floor and had her Carlos lay on top of her with his big derrière in the air.  Surprised he was that old Pierre took off his trousers and his underwear and mounted Carlos ere he could resist.  The pile of bodies, with Pierre on top of Carlos who was laying over Juliana.  The three of them were thus connected like a jigsaw puzzle.  The statuette produced eventually was sensational and sold expensively to old Jane Fonda who was making it a gift for old Ted Turner.

Pierre tailed Juliana to the old Hotel and found her quite engaged with Simon who was pumping her so vigorously, almost every afternoon.  He forced his way into the room and shot Herr Simon in the butt.  He forced his wife to tie and gag poor Simon who was in screaming pain by virtue of his having had a bullet shot into his butt.  Ms. Juliana did her job extremely well, managing to stoke her Simon, surreptitiously.  Herr Carlos pointed his big Lueger at his wife and forced her to lie down in bed on both her knees an stick her butt up in the air.  He mounted her with force and vigour and he pumped her full of angry semen.  In fact, she liked her husband’s actions and responded with élan.  She promised quite sincerely that she would give up her Simon, if her Carlos would assist her in the task of getting him some help.  Herr Carlos did agree and helped his wife get help for Simon.

The second honeymoon twixt Carlos and his Juliana, was exciting.  They took a tour of Caribbean Islands and made love on all the wondrous sandy beaches, quite oblivious to any onlookers and peeping Toms.  Ms. Juliana reconsidered every tempting man that she had seen and seemed to be quite faithful all throughout the second honeymoon.  In her mind, however, she was certain that she’d sin again.

About a year went by quite uneventfully.  It was Carlos that was getting bored and he seduced his pretty secretary and the sister of his long time boss.  The next year he was hot to trot with Isobel, the mail clerk, Adele, the perky little waitress at the Bloodless Diner and Sid, The Kid, the sexy drummer at the Beau Café de Montpelier.  This time it was Juliana who suspected Carlos and she found him Sunday morning in their basement with a naked Mary Martha Madrigal, the third grade teacher that resided in the house next door with her own faithful husband,  thirteen children, two hot dogs, ten snakes and twenty-seven horny hamsters, eh?  She hit Carlos across the head with a tire iron and she knocked him out.  M. M. M. ran screaming to her house next door and called police.  Two cruisers and an ambulance arrived soon after and arrested Juliana while they ministered to Carlos who was still unconscious.  There was a nasty cut above his eyebrows which was profusely bleeding and creating such a bloody mess.  The EMTs controlled the bleeding and did transfer him to Beaning’s Private Hospital ER where interns sutured Carlos up to stop the bleeding from his forehead  laceration.  He was still unconscious and Neurologists were called in to see him.  They decided they could not exclude the possibility of some hemorrhaging in the brain.  Cat scans showed a clear and serious big shift off centre which indicated some internal lesion occupying space and pushing the brain centres to one side.  Herr Carlos was prepared for surgery and transferred to the suite for surgeons where his skull was drilled to let the Devil’s out.  A huge blood clot was found and drained but something else appeared, a tumour deep inside the brain.  Biopsies were done.  Preliminary microscopic slides revealed that is was highly malignant.  No further surgery was warranted as damage to the brain was a certain possibility.  The police were contacted to arrange for Juliana to be brought to Beaning’s Hospital in order to inform her of the diagnosis, glioblastoma, which had no one year cures and usually caused death in about six months.  Carlos never did regain his consciousness.  He died in five.

Ms. Juliana felt so guilty she was crying all the time, just blaming everything on her behaviour.  She felt responsible, entirely, for her husband’s death.  The doctor had consoled her by reminding her the blow on the head just served to accidentally discover that he had a high grade cancer that would kill him in five months.  The doctor was so comforting, Ms. Juliana fell into his arms and just about undressed herself to be quite properly consoled.  The doctor, one of the bright neurosurgeons that had operated on her Carlos, was so tempted to take advantage of a grieving widow.  He was not strong enough to just resist her lovely body, still, as Juliana was approaching 50 years of age and in fine shape for her, or any, age.

And so it went.  Ms. Juliana lived to be an octogenarian and still remained her sexy self, seducing men of any age to comfort her and make her feel more sexy.  Her security was re-assured by terms of Carlos’ Last Will and Testament.  In her expensive nursing home, there were an hundred older women.  She alone was one that satisfied the men from night to night while all the other women were completely comatose or only spoke extensively about their bowels.

God Bless you, Juliana.  May your spirit be an inspiration to us all!

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

August 24, 2013

chester chesterfield

The Four Star General Chronicles

An Allegoric Tale of Just Rewards --

And Unjust Retribution

With NOT a Whit or Bit of Tail

By Izzy Ess of Monkey Business

Uncertain of his grounds, Lieutenant Jimmy “Chester” Chesterfield backed down from arguing with Sergeant Johnny Simpson IIII, regarding his huge tendency to belch and fart at dinnertime, no matter what the menu was.  The sergeant would have been OK, if all he did was belch and fart along with everyone, whenever pork and beans was served, or Reuben sandwiches, or brats and sauerkraut.  With everybody doing it, our Sergeant Simpson would hardly have been noticed.  A lot of people were offended by John Simpson’s very loud and smelly farts.  The belching sounded like a lion’s roar at times.  Lieutenant James found John resistant to suggestions that he desist from breaking wind and belching.  Johnny argued that his actions were but normal body functions, that loudness of the farts did not exactly correlate with smelliness, and that his belching did relieve the chest pain he would get at dinnertime.  He quoted his father who said a little axiom: “It’s better to belch and bear the shame, than not to belch and bear the pain.”  The lieutenant just stopped arguing and smiled. 

The sergeant’s noises seemed to increase in their volume and their frequency.  The smelly farts went far and wide and could be smelt as far as barracks on the northern side of town.  Lieutenant Chesterfield consulted with his own superiors and own inferiors about his problem with the sergeant’s body noises and aromas.  A Private First Class, Thomas Mandolin, had a brave idea.  He felt that a reaction could convince the sergeant that he must resolve his issues with his associates.  The PFC suggested ether capsules which would cause a rectal wind propulsion and an eructation of a gas that would be dangerous to him if anyone lit up a cigarette.  Lieutenant Chester liked the plan and asked an anaesthesiologist for help.  The gas delivering cool medic was agreeable to giving up a capsule of an ancient gas that was an obsolescence.  He cautioned that the reason ether wasn’t used these days had all to do with dangers of explosions in the operating rooms.  Lieutenant Chester Chesterfield was given literature to peruse.  He satisfied himself that this was such a great plan to get rid of Johnny Simpson’s emanations and his body noises.

September 25, 2020, Sergeant Johnny Simpson, IIII, accepted with a smile the tiny capsule of the ether that Lieutenant Jimmy Chester Chesterfield had offered him.  John was instructed that if he ingested this "cool” capsule, he must be aware that lighting up a cigarette might cause a small explosion.  John was sure that he was being kidded and he purposefully belched and farted ether gas immediately, and then he went for his old stogy and he struck a match to get it lit.  A mushroom cloud was visible for miles as the entire army base was vapourized, including all the personnel, supplies and ammunition.  Neighbour farmer heard the loud explosion and then saw the slowly rising mushroom cloud and felt a blast of heat.  There was no harm to livestock or the crops that grew in close proximity to Four Star General Maloney Baloney’s Army Base in Kansas City, Oklahoma.  Fire trucks and reporters started coming to find out what happened and to quell the fires on the levelled base.  All bodies were recovered and identified.  The tiny bits of body parts of Sergeant John were gathered and identified with special DNA testing.  There was no tell-tale smell of ether to alert investigators, inasmuch as ether burns completely when it does explode.  That accelerants were likely to be present, the case remained a mystery for twenty years.  Lieutenant Jimmy Chester Chesterfield’s burnt diary was thoroughly investigated and some clever puzzle solvers put together all the pages and got wind of Chester’s plot to get his Sergeant to desist from breaking wind and belching.  It was too bizarre to be believed and nothing was submitted by the puzzle solvers.  One of them, a sexy friend of mine, was pillow talking and revealed the crazy story to me.  I’ve waited ‘til I moved to Switzerland with my friend, Sexy Suzy, ere I wrote this story and submitted it to my old blog.  I’ve disguised the truth a bit by changing names and places, cleverly.  Enjoy!  Or, do delete this before you go to bed so that you will remain true blue.

I have done research on the pioneering anaesthetic, ETHER, first used for anaesthesia by dentists advertising painless dentistry.  IT IS DANGEROUS!  In addition to its explosive nature, it almost always causes nausea and vomiting, which can be deadly in Recovery Rooms of the Operating Rooms or in your hospital bed in the day or two following major or minor surgery.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

August 25, 2013

nikita dear

DEAR NIKITA

A Prayer for Thee and Thine

[In lyrical form appropriate for music]

By Izzy Ess of Surrogated-ness

[in C or F flat minor

By a good rock band,

Like Pink Floyd

Or a good blues band

Like Muddy Waters]

Sensational was what I said about Nikita who was now spectacularly beautiful.  She showed me pictures on her cell phone that were eyefuls of such pulchritude that I was overwhelmed as if I’d witnessed someone putting arms right back on Venus, Milo’s statue of a white and eyeless spirit, but now she had those blazing grey and hazel eyes which like chameleons would change to green or blue or black depending on her attitude and state of mind and her arms that could be used to hug me and to hold me close enough to be in Heaven, eh?  Suffice to say, she was too young for me and though I’d make her happy she would always think of me as fatherly and not romantic for her.  So be it.  I do accept the spiritual role of father of this angel who emerged from her depression and suppression by a soul who didn’t understand the value of his girlfriend and by a mother who was jealous of her and a father who was not around to be impressed by his own flesh and blood.  She did have a slightly younger brother whom she loved and who loved her.  She turned me down.  I know she needs the leadership and good protection of a father’s spirit, which I have, and I surely need a surrogate daughter to replace my own who will not talk to me and hasn’t since age fourteen, even though she’s married now and might have my grandchildren abounding in her home.  God bless you dear Nikita.  I will always love you and be around to talk to you when things go south or sour or a foot of someone clumsy and un-inspirited doth step on thee.

AMEN AND HALLELUJAH!

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

August 22, 2013

also sprach zed

Izzy Sommers said...

Assuming we are really we and not a figment of someone's imagination, then, the albatross is not extinct but re-emerges in the game of golf, the phoenix rises in the state of arizona and the pterodactyl has been born again as air force one. Of course, the horse was once a tree-free creature with 10 toes and hairy clothes and started in the west and immigrated cross the bering sea as yaks came this way and were slaughtered by the white invading herds of the destroyers of the land and gross polluters of the air and water, eh? Suffice to say that Hudson's bay is being siphoned off by Russians while the Erie lake is being stolen by Americans... oh, soon it will be necessary to be bottling all the fresh air and fresh cool water to be sold in markets by the marketeers and not phoenicians who were friendly and glad-handed as they opened up the Sea of Galilee to everyone who would so peacefully reside in warring countries like Judea, Rome and Persia which had once a queen of jewish origin, esther qua scheherezade. Suffice to say, the whales were rulers of the firmament and only gave up power recently, but how they sang the music of the lord since GENESIS, page one, before the life force was breathed into adam and his clone, the matriarch of everyone!

Amen and Hallelujah!

22 August 2013 16:46

(C) izzy sommers, md, welland, canada

BOBBY

ROBERTA RUBENSTEIN

A Fictional Story of One

Woman’s Interesting Life

By Izzy Sommers, MD, [retired]

Mrs. Bobby Rubenstein was in her kitchen when she spotted, out the back, the young and muscular young man that had come to clean the pool, at 2201 Westminster Drive, in Brookline, Massachusetts.

Just one year ago, Sir Arthur Rubenstein had died a tragic death.  He was attempting to repair the chimney on the roof and slipped and fell.  He rolled right down the gabled roof.  He couldn’t save his life by grabbing on to anything and down he went.  He landed forehead first and broke his neck.  A cardiac arrest ensued and CPR was not effective by the EMT’s called in by Bobby.  Just before the EMT’s arrived, our Bobby tried some mouth-to-mouth, to no avail.  Artie Rubenstein was gone forever.  Lots of kith and kin and neighbours and associates attended the memorial where many stood and lauded Artie’s friendliness and helpfulness.  After sitting Shiva for a week, the family abandoned Bobby and left her all alone to mourn the death of her beloved Artie.  Bobby stayed at home, content to cook and clean the roomy house.  The kids were living, mostly married, far away.  Visits by them were infrequent.  Bobby was discouraging to friends who partied and frequented bars.  Sometimes, they offered escorts for her, but she chose to stay at home and be reminded of her loss.  Roberta was just turning fifty, soon, and longed to have her quite attentive husband back.

Sylvester Salvatori was surprised when Bobby beckoned him to come inside the house.  Surprising was the fact that Bobby had undressed.  She greeted Sylky with a full-mouthed Frenchy kiss, and grabbed him by the groin.  He had no choice.  He ripped off all his clothes and carried Bobby to her bed and laid her on the silken, Paisley bed sheets.  He just pumped her full of semen and she screamed, delighted to be nailed so forcefully.  The thoughts of Artie flew away.  Sylky came again, each day, to clean the pool and satisfy our Bobby who would scream and giggle and hang on to him with vigour and élan.  Sylky was delighted by this older woman, who had bobbing quite large breasts and such a very tight and so well lubricated, wonderful vagina.  Bobby asked him to move in with her, while she would clean the house and pool and feed the hungry boy.  They lived together for a year.  He left her for a younger woman, Suzy Kew, a neighbour’s daughter.  Bobby was again alone but not as lonely as she felt before, as one by one she sampled all the neighbour’s husbands and delivering young men, from drug and grocery stores.  This kept her very happy for a full two years.

Sir Artie’s generosity had made her quite secure, financially.  She made a bold decision.  Selling her big home, our Bobby bought a condominium in Florida’s Fort Lauderdale.  The Brookline neighbour women were so glad to see her go.  Ms. Bobby took some sailing lessons and she learned to SCUBA dive.  She sailed alone, in her own yacht, to Islands in the Caribbean and she SCUBA dived in some exotic waters, taking pictures with an underwater camera.  She talked about her trips with many neighbours and she was invited to some exclusive country clubs and fancy old folk’s homes to show her colour slides of most exotic underwater life.  Paid handsome fees by country clubs, she was invited often to their parties.  The old folks loved her talks and often asked her to just stick around for dinner and an evening’s entertainment.  Meeting wealthy men was easy and she dated two retired physicians who had lavished her with jewelry and expensive knick-knacks.  Doctors, James O’Hare and Percy Wittenberg, were great in bed and she enjoyed them, separately and together.  This most active threesome started living all together and were happy and contented with each other’s company and sexual performances.

In February, three companions sailed due east to old Bermuda.  Bobby, as the captain of the trio, found a tiny island south of Nassau and remained there, sleeping in the nude, on isolated beaches for a month.  They’d brought enough supplies to last a month and started back to old Fort Lauderdale in March.  A storm beset them and the yacht was damaged and immobilized.  Rescued by the Coast Guard, with a crew of younger men, the doctors, Jim and Percy, gave up Bobby to fulfill her wishes to lay all the crewmen personally and with vigour and great gratitude.  Back home in old Fort Lauderdale, the happy trio, re-united once again, resumed their happy times in bed, or otherwise.

Her family was reconciled with her life style and many visits by her children and her siblings and their families became a frequent thing for Bobby, Percy and her James.  Her grandchildren were quite delighted by the trio of their grandparents and often spent some extra time with them on school vacations and on holidays.  This allowed her children to take a break and go off somewhere by themselves while their children had a happy place to stay.  One of Bobby’s daughters got divorced and came to her quite sadly for a month.  Our Doctor Percy was enchanted by his Bobby’s daughter, Isobel, and spent a lot of quiet time with her, just walking on the beach.  He reached out for her soul and was rewarded by a quite sensational and highly charged affair and sexual adventure.  Similarly, Bobby’s other daughter, separated from her husband, separated Doctor Jimmy from his Bobby.  In the end, our Bobby was alone again and had to start another life.

Ms. Bobby didn’t take a lot of time to find Herr Josef Blumenauer and take off with him for Switzerland for a long vacation.  Joe was formerly a physiology professor in the Physiology Laboratory of the University of Berne.  He took our Bobby to the restaurants that he had haunted during all those years in Switzerland.  His favourite was one beside the tiny waterfall and hydro generator near Berne, Die Schwellemetali.  He ordered trout for both of them and showed her how to watch while waiters went outside and fished for a fresh trout and sautéed it right at their table.  Bobby loved it, as she loved the restaurant in Simmental, a valley near the Simi Mountain, at the eastern end of the Swiss Alps.  In that great restaurant, one entered a back pen chock full of clucking, lively, plump white-feathered chickens and one picked a plump one for one’s dinner entrée.  It was killed and plucked in front of Bobby and her new companion and barbequed beside their table.  The Béarnaise sauce was uebersaftig when ‘twas spread upon the chicken halves and served with local wine, a Cabernet Sauvignon blanc.  Bobby loved the Watch and Music Box Museum up in Neuchatel, the cruises on the Geneva’s Lake, and the Jazz extravaganza en la Chateau de Monteux.

Our Bobby lived alone again and seemed content with sailing and her SCUBA diving with her underwater Leica camera.  Adele de Ville, a wealthy woman from Dundee in Scotland, fell in love with Bobby and confessed her love to her.  Our Bobby thought, “Oh, what the Hell?” and thus invited this adorable Adele to live with her.  She was surprised how easily it was to love another woman.  Bobby found it tenderly exciting.  Ms. Adele enjoyed some games in bed, including S & M, they each rotating being Masoch and de Sade.  She liked the playful masquerade and playful punishment because of mock behaviours suited to the S & M play acting.  Both the women were quite educated and quite knowledgeable with regard to sexual activities.  Ms. Bobby’s kith and kin were quite accepting of her relationship with adorable Adele.

Adele and Bobby liked to travel to the Southwest of America.  They stayed awhile at a dude ranch in Wickenburg, in Arizona, and they spent some time in San Francisco, in the homosexual communities.  They travelled slowly up the coast to Oregon and Washington and crossed the border to explore Vancouver, Banff and Edmonton, as well as Winnipeg and Thunder Bay, Toronto and Quebec, Moncton, Halifax, Vermont, Schenectady and New York City, Atlanta and New Orleans, before returning to Fort Lauderdale.  They enjoyed the many lesbians they met and enjoyed the sexual adventures with them.  In old Fort Lauderdale, Adele decided to return, alone, to Dundee and her family.  The parting of the partners was a tearful one.  Ms. Bobby was alone again.  She missed her friend, Adele de Ville, tremendously.

Adele had always said to Bobby, “You should try your hand at writing and at painting.  You have a way with words that is quite wonderful.  You might enjoy expressing some emotions and some thoughts on paper and on canvas.  Water colours are an inexpensive medium to try.  You have a lap top for your emails.  I’m sure it has a writing programme and a way of taking diary entries, like a blog.  I think that you would get some local and world-wide audiences to have an interest in some expressions of your turmoil and your joys.  You might really like to do it and publishing these days on internet, both words and images, is easily accomplished, I have heard.”  So, Bobby, cautiously, at first, started blogging and some water colour paintings on some water colour paper.  She liked it very much.  An example of her poetry is recorded here:

An Easter Island

Head looks to the East and does

Await the Yellow

I want to buy an elephant, I do…

I have the effing flu and kangaroo;

Perchance I’ll drool for Harry’s tool and stool –

I think I’ll go out riding on my mule.

Ms. Tinkerbelle can tell a bell to go

To hell in hand baskets designed to show

A beau that lo, the bell doth toll for Crowe,

The Russell Aussie, who doth really know.

All hale and hearty safety pins

Can prick a farmer in his shins;

While he is doubled up in pain,

A train could kill him dead, in bed.

Anon, the moonlight shone its light

Upon the likes of Mistress Knight

And make a sight to see in bright

Sun light for all to fly a kite.

Forsooth and molar tooth, a booth

Is like a sailing vessel loosed

Upon the Truth of Shirley Couth

Who yearned to take on Baby Ruth.

A tree in Brookline asks for me to see

The bumblebee who feels a little free

To sting an elephant or aardvark in

The knee at Ben Kafuffles’ lovely Inn.

Methinks the man doth hanker for a piece

Of every woman who appears at Peace

And Harmony.  He wants to feel he is

A potent force for all showboating biz.

A whiz at mathematics, Izzy, aced

All geometric problems that he faced.

He introduced the algebraic notes

That simplified just all of Macy’s floats.

Suffice to say, in Hudson’s Bay, the way

Of Guggenheim is rhymed in liquid clay.

Ms. Bobby found she saw herself as authoress.  She gathered all her poems in a book and published it on Google’s Blogger.  Her audience became enlarged to every corner of the Earth including Mandalay and Bay of Pigs.  A publisher approached her on the internet and made an offer for her copyrighted odes and poems and fiction prose.  She was already rich so this meant extra money to be spent on luxuries and silly items like a cappuccino maker.  Knopf, the Publisher advanced her thirty thousand and a promise to reward her with extensive royalties.  Ms. Bobby went ahead and did accept the generous kind offer for some compensation.  She did negotiate and got an offer for some fifty thousand US dollars plus a hefty ten percent of sales and profits.  Her lawyer took a hefty fee to check the contract over and he said it passed all legal terms for her to sign.

“A POEM A DAY & THE BLUES AWAY,” sold right away.  The first run sold out in a week.  The second run of fifty thousand copies took a month to sell.  The bookstores offered her some cash to come around and sign some books for customers and she complied.  Her biggest selling crowds came to Chicago and New York, Toronto and Vancouver, Atlanta and New Orleans.  She liked the signing of her books and met a lot of people, face-to-face who had a lot of compliments about her poetry.  She liked the ego-building criticisms that were in her favour, and also liked the ones that weren’t.  She learned the most from readers who were critical of poems that were so silly.  Bobby’s total time was spent in these excursions to the book stores to enhance her sales.  The Publisher was pleased and asked her for another effort.

Bobby started writing novelettes.  She liked to build her characters with adverse personalities in order to create the tension that a reader liked to read.  She tried to write some mysteries but didn’t like them.  She also didn’t like non-fiction ‘cause the facts must be quite accurate and much research was needed to accomplish this.  She stuck to writing longer shortened stories about complicated personalities and found it fascinating to create two characters and let them go upon her pages to create some tension, climax and denouement.  Some of these short stories had a way of getting longer and more complicated, and more satisfying.  She found some characters would last beyond her story and she able to make a series with a central character, who was the vehicle for action in her novelettes.  One such character was quite a lot like the personality she thought of as her own.  Her stories often went through episodes exactly as she lived them.  She liked to have her heroine attract much younger men.  She liked to tell of sexual adventures that were similar to her own memories of what she’d done.  Sylvester Slinky came to be her favourite protagonist.  Her heroine, a Lorelei Macdonald, was mainly like a Bobby with some more attractive attributes.  She learned to make disguises for the real main characters that she endured or loved.  She learned to weave a story line with expertise and flowery enhancement.  Finally she learned to use Shakespearean big flaws which led to quick demises or a great love story.

Bobby’s reputation spread.  Translations of her books in many languages enhanced her sales and profits.  She learned that sometimes a direct translation was erroneous.  An example is fantastic which is not exactly, “Fantastique.”  The Berlioz, La Symphonie Fantastique, means a symphony concerned with fantasies, and not a symphony that’s really great.  She learned to swear in other languages, and found some special meanings for some touchy subjects.  An example is the slang for Homosexual in Paris is, “Un Lapin Chaud,” while in Berlin, a gay man is, “Ein Warmer Mann”.  She also learned that Beethoven wrote instructions for his symphonies, sometimes, in dialects of German found in old Vienna.  For example, when he wanted something played quite slow and draggy, he would write, “spiel episs schlependlich,” a Yiddish sounding phrase that means the same in music as it means for individuals.  A response to common phrases, like, “Wie geht es ihnen?” or just simply, “wie gehts?” meaning “How goes it, (with you?”) could sometimes  get a quick reply, “Oi episs schlependlich,” in Yiddish.

Bobby was a very wealthy widow.  Novels like, “THE PHOENIX INTO WICKENBURG,” and “THE STRUMPET IN THE DELL,” were great best-sellers for a year and made the lists of Oprah and her fans.  Her publisher was quite relentless seeking profits and demanding more and more, she write the books that pleased the readers of the world.  Her signing tours now reached some countries she had never visited before, like Russia and Japan.

In Japan she met a Jewish man who had already managed to peruse her every word.  He owned a bookstore right downtown in Tokyo, where Bobby had a signing stop on her world tour.  Her books were prominently on display, in English and in Japanese.  The owner, Benjamin Pierre de Wasserman, was enchanted by her.  She was strongly interested in his name and history.  They broke for sake, sweet roll and an herbal tea, in a next door, gourmet coffee shop.  They started talking and it was obvious they liked each other very much.  This Benjamin was born in West Berlin in Germany and reared in Paris, France.  His parents were Israelis that had travelled for their own amusement and the strong promotion of their import-export business that they’d started in Afghanistan.  He’d been thrice married and divorced three times in France and Germany and Switzerland.  He had eight children born in different countries, who would often visit him, in Tokyo.

Roberta found him just like Arthur in his personality and even in appearance.  They went to dinner and enjoyed some gourmet food in Nippon's famous buffet restaurant, the Mandarin.  They talked and started holding hands and touching knees.  At the end of their big meal, Pierre invited Bobby to return with him to his small paper house high up on foothills, overlooking downtown Tokyo.  Pierre had silken robes.  They changed without a hesitation in revealing private parts.  In several moments they disrobed completely to enjoy the bath within his house.  Two tiny Japanese young women served them sake while they soaked.  The servants wore kimonos with two chopsticks in their heaped up hairdos.  They had tiny feet and hands.  After bathing, the diminutive women laid them prone upon two pads and walked along their spines, a most relaxing old technique.  The Japanese young women tidied up and left he happy couple to relax in a big bed bedecked with silken sheets.  Benjamin was sweet and loving.  He proceeded slowly at the onset of their making love but felt Roberta’s urgency to be handled fiercely, almost forcefully.  She screamed and thanked him graciously.  She put back on her daytime clothes and had Ben call a taxi.  She left him with a tender kiss and hug and made a date to have another evening together in two days.  They both had time to think things over ere they met again, next day, at Benjamin’s old bookstore.  All their feelings for each other were so strongly positive, they made a date directly for that evening, not to skip a day of abject pleasure.

Roberta finished off her tour in Seoul, in South Korea.  She returned to Tokyo to spend a week with Benjamin before returning to her condominium in old Fort Lauderdale.  She sold her furniture and many other old possessions.  She sublet her large, luxuriously appointed condo and she called her children to inform them of her plans to move to Tokyo and take up residence with Benjamin who had suggested this.  Roberta was real happy to be loved, again.  She was quite happy, also, in finding she was so in love, again.  Her career in writing could be carried out from Tokyo with internet.  Benjamin was thrilled to keep his store and his star author closely, for himself.  They happy couple experienced a love which deepened gradually.  By the time they could retire to co-habitat the paper house in Tokyo, they’d take marriage vows.  Their advancing ages deepened even more their love.  They died so peacefully at ages 91 and 92.  Their ashes were divided in small portions, by the myriads of children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, who came to see memorials of them, at readings of last wills and testaments, of Bobby and her Benjamin Pierre.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

August 22, 2013