The Thunderbolt — “Comfort Of Despair” Excerpt

A friend of mine knows I recently lost my job and am urgently looking for work. Dave offers me a position with his small video production company. It doesn’t pay very much, only gas plus commission, but it is an opportunity to be trained by the best salesperson on the island.

I don’t want to be late and arrive almost a full hour early. The building is dark, but the Florida sun is already warm and bright. I busy myself with the Key West Citizen’s crossword puzzle. I have had too much time lately, and it is now a daily distraction. I have gotten pretty good and soon, in ink, correctly answer the last clue. I turn to the front page — screeching tires jolts me upright, commanding my attention.

 A white Grand Am speeds into the parking lot. The body sways back and forth as stressed brake pads bring it to a sudden stop. The scent of asbestos rides the salt laden air to my nostrils. I’m pretty sure it isn’t Dave. I peer out the window, expecting to see Evel Knievel.

 

After a few minutes of fussing, it is not the famed daredevil who emerges.

 

Curly hair, lightened by exposure, frames a beautiful, tanned face. Without effort, her lips seem to pout. A light-colored business suit, well fitted, accentuates perfectly symmetrical curves. The skirt barely reaches the middle of her thighs, showing off smooth and toned legs. Legs which encourage you to look higher, even while knowing, but not caring, that there is nothing more to see. My eyes follow as she walks to the entrance. I am mesmerized and hypnotized by the sashay of her gait.

As the Sicilian’s say,I am hit by the thunderbolt.’

I wait in the car until my friend arrives and enter the building with him. He introduces us. “Meet Sofia Portonova. The best salesperson in all The Keys.”

perfection1

Jesus Christ, she has such an exotic and elegant name, and mine can’t possibly be any more bland.

She extends her hand. Her touch sends a shiver throughout my body.

“Pleased to meet you.” I’m pretty sure she purred.

I shake her hand.
Talk stupid.
Say something.

 

FOR CHRIST’S SAKE AT LEAST GRUNT!

 


Purchase your copy of “The Comfort Of Despair” by clicking on the photo..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “The Thunderbolt — “Comfort Of Despair” Excerpt

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