In came the Stranger. He looked more disheveled. His face looked like he’d seen a thousand lifetimes. And then he spoke the words: “I am child’s daddy.” Dallas could only look the other way, smelling of his gin-soaked alcoholic’s perfume. Something started to stir…in his cup. It was him, he was stirring it.
Chapter Two: Daynights and Nightmoons
Finding yourself is never easy. Especially for Dallas Panhands, born in Reno, he had a habit of hating himself, sometimes physically. Other times, hypothetically. Then came one of the visions. It hit with the hot heat of a thousand summers, squared. His brain hurt, but no more than usual. Like a wrinkle in time, he found himself wanting to disappear. ‘Kill me,’ he said to no one in particular. As always, the absence of God’s cruel hand left him alive, yet empty. ‘Just one more day,’ he thought to himself, ‘and I’ll do it. God give me strength!’ Dallas kissed his wife good morning. His hand groped, grovelled at her chest. The once firm bosom of yesteryear had gone soft, limp, like putty. Deep in her eyes, she thought he knew, he needed the affair.
Chapter 3: The Affair….
The room was dark, and dank, but the mood was alive; tense. INtense. Hot. She was twenty years his elder. What she lacked in youth, she made up for in age. ‘Fondle me with your manhood, Panhands,’ she panted, ‘Slap these old bones! Make me feel young again!” Within your womb I plant this seed. Then I will be done with you. Do not contact me.
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