this is a short story written by N. Barry Carver and submitted to TCABAM for exclusiv publication
Copyright August 6, 2009 / N. Barry Carver / No portion may be used without permission.
i hope you enjoy it as much as i did:
It Must Be Love
My sweaty hands made the dust ledge just a bit easier to hold on but I’d
never have the strength to pull myself back up off this cliff… actually part of
what was keeping me from falling the eight hundred feet onto the rocky
shore was the fact that she was so firmly grinding my hand under her boot.
That’s just the kind of gal she is… always doing what’s best for me, even if I
don’t appreciate it at the time.
Seeing that I was having a rough time of it, she slipped back her boot – like
a batter cleaning his cleats against home plate – and kicked my right hand
hard enough to pull my left hand free as well. The small branch that caught
my knee lasted just long enough to fling me sideways out from the cliff-face.
The momentum sailed me out just far enough to crash through the churning
turf and land, pretty much unharmed (except for the shattered ankle) in
enough water to cushion me but just as it receded so that I didn’t have to
struggle for more than a few exciting and painful minutes to get to the shore
What a genius she is to have calculated so perfectly. Since I, being the
weak good for nothing I am, couldn’t have pulled myself up, and she, being
the dainty runway model, perfect size 18, she’d blossomed into, after her
release from unwarranted and unkind detention in that federal facility in
Kansas, couldn’t have been expected to tow my worthlessness back up the
ledge. Which I’d fallen over in my own clumsiness after her demonstration
of passion and, dare I say it, love. The bottle hit me, accidently, of course,
on my jaw just to the right of my chin. She’d been flailing with abandon and
meant, I’m sure, to toss the hooch from the car.
I must admit, the love tap she’d sent me had landed a bit hard but this time
I had the luck to have shifted slightly in my seat so that it missed my
testicles altogether and simply bruised my penis – which really didn’t hurt
half as bad as it might have had I not flinched.
Between the purpling of my “Mini Mister Munchkin” as she calls it and the
bleeding bump on my jaw… I could tell that soon we would be in an
impassioned embrace – maybe this time, if I did everything just right, I’d
get the chance to finish too. It was something I’d been looking forward to a
long time. Years actually. That’s not the kind of thing a girl like this will just
let happen every time – or on anything but the most special occasions.
There was one time, I got very close but she is very busy and had, just at
that moment, remembered an appointment with her hairdresser that would
have been impossible to cancel.
At that moment, with the shock of being unsuspectingly Jack Danieled
upside the head, I whirled back around to see, even in the speeding car,
that she was carefully sliding her delicate boot behind the small of my back.
Did she mean to have relations at sixty miles per hour?
Just as I caught a glimpse of the angry maw with the inverted graying
goatee that was the gaping chasm of all my fantasies, her bootlace, I guess,
must have caught the door handle just as, incredibly, her lithe yet stubby
fingers accidentally tripped the seatbelt’s latch.
When I stopped rolling across the dust, I was just close enough to the edge
that, when she backed up to check on me, those faulty brakes made the car
push me right over.
As I lay here, the salty water licking my wounds, no way off this little beach,
the tide quickly rising and the sun going down, I can rest in the security of
her dedication to me.
In fact, the sound of screeching tires and the kicked up dust hovering far
above my head assure me that even now she is speeding down the highway
back into town to secure my rescue.
She is truly just that wonderful for me.
And look! It seems the blood in the water has drawn some speedy fish with
dorsal fins into this violent little bay. They must be frenzied dolphins coming
to offer me aid!