Breakfast and the paper. Yesterday you and Carol had passport photos taken at AAA as they need renewed. Ten years older, and this time, no smiles allowed. Not so bad as the new groping at the airport.
Being groped is not so dignified. I went with the body scanner. Not to worry, I thought at the time. A whole lot of nothing to be peeked about. Do the observers care? Not on my account I can assure you. I carry no weapons. I have no problems with the scanner machinery which is built for public safety, for the greater good. Why people would rather have real rubber gloved hands touching than radiation is beyond me, especially because I don’t fly much to begin with. Professional travellers are a different story. I have no idea what to do about it.
No one asked your advice, orndorff.
I deserve that one, Amorella.
Post. – Amorella.
After noon, and a visit to the doctor for more meds for bronchitis, sinus and cough. Prescriptions being filled, Carol is taking back clothes to Carter’s while you wait and lunch is up next before the return to Kroger’s. Carol doesn’t want to go to Five Guys, Panera, Bob Evans, Chinese or Friday’s. You don’t want to go to Penn Station or City Barbeque. The nearby place you both like best is Longhorn Steak House and you were just there yesterday. You hope Dewey’s Pizza will be the place as you are getting hungry.
Lunch at Dewey’s and a return to the Kroger lot for last minute Thanksgiving items and prescriptions. Cold and crisp with an otherwise California-like cloudless sky. I’ll chose this last set of positions, let’s go with number twenty. – Amorella.
That is pretty up front of you, Amorella. I guess I no longer have to consider you are an angel in disguise.
Interesting that you aren’t as up front as I am here. You thought about deleting the “I guess” but cannot bring yourself to do it.
I most always have doubts, Amorella. It would be more than arrogant to make the statement: “I no longer have to consider you are an angel in disguise.”
Why do you go so far as to consider such a statement sacrilegious?
It was just a passing thought, Amorella. In the context of the whole of all the notes and the drafts of the Merlyn books I, deep down, consider these writing deeply personal and spiritual. It depends on how deep this goes. At times I could be on the edge of a spiritual reality the ‘human spirit’ is ‘mystically or otherwise’ connected to or running parallel to. The ‘spiritual’ in my mind, by definition, is open – a doorway is most always open. Thus, in context with my sense of ‘self’ that may survive physical death, it may be sacrilegious from that personal self. To think otherwise would be hypocritical and/or dishonest.
A hypothetical may thus be a reality. – Amorella.
Yes. An infinitesimally small possibility, but a possibility nevertheless – The soul attached to a human may be one, but a human heart may have a thousand separate proper nouns to call forth a thousand intra-connected fragments, each deemed wholeable. No one knows these things. Conjecture on my part is all this is. – rho
Under these circumstances, post. – Amorella.
After a trip to Sears Appliances on Tylersville for a refrigerator water filter one more stop at Kroger’s as Carol told Kim she would pick something up for her. Tonight you should finish the last sexual event after you both watch NCIS and NCIS-LA.
Tomorrow I can work some as Carol will be cooking pies and making veggie trays, etc. for Thursday. I may get a haircut as I have a coupon. I am happy we got those passport photos with the bushier beard and eyebrows that touch the beret. More my authentic look, a bit wild on the outside to match the mental wildness on the inside.
You almost wrote wilderness rather than wildness. A near Freudian slip?
Probably.
The two NCIS shows are over and you have finished the last raw sexual episode for this scene. Tomorrow we begin to clean this material into better copy. – Amorella.
Preliminary Scene 13 – more raw drafting
Mattress on the floor, late. Salamon with eyes shut lay flat out on his back in a rest mode. A slight noise opened his eyes to see Sophia standing naked above him. What will it be? He thought, a rest, or one more go?
Sophia said nothing but began to drop down. To coordinate with this Salamon first rose up into a sitting position with as much anticipation as he could muster. Surprised, he presently found her sitting on the focus of much of what was left of warm anticipation. With the fingers of her right hand she spread her much exercised lips and nudged him into place. Then she sat tall with her back parallel to his. Her taut breasts front and center to his neck Salamon quickly found himself bending his mouth instinctively forward to a potential taste of awaiting spiritual nourishment. Lips and tongue, a twist of pleasure mutually felt. He did not notice her more experienced eyes were above his own, observing contentedly.
I feel him within and without. Who is changed more in this parallel frontal positioning? The flesh, the thought of flesh keeps his mind busy on the essentials of fingertips as his right hand appears fresh with a single finger heading towards my bottom just far enough for me to tingle of playful entrance. Erection or finger, I don’t know which counts more in my present bottomful of private two-way joy.
Contentment is staying in this prayful position until morning. Here, Heaven rests in the one of being.
***
Again, this (above) is not what I expected. I really don’t know what I expected but this isn’t it. How can I do this, write what I do not anticipate that I myself might write? My own automaticity overrides the consciousness that allows my sense of being, of meaning, but alas, the purpose remains unknown. I still have so many words in me. Where do they all come from? Are they rising up from a deeper well in my heart, in my mind, or in my soul? This is a truthful question, Amorella.
You can never know, boy. That is the real authenticity. Post. – Amorella.
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