Skywriting -- Mar 31, 1998
Continued from Mar 30, 1998
It was the most fantastic night of John life. All those years he had bottled up his feelings for Linda, but now they exploded to the surface, binding the two of them together in a throbbing moutain of pleasure. Linda was just as good as John had ever imagined, if not better, and braught him to his limit time after time. Finaly, John was exausted. He put up his had "Sorry Lin - you've worn me out babe". "That's OK John", Linda replied, "we can just....."
"Wake up, John!" Said Cyn, shaking him. "It's just a bad dream." "Uh...Wha? Oh, yeah. I'm awake. God what a horrible dream." John said, getting up.
"And you were there....I think...." He tried to cover up his unconscious betrayal. John awoke screaming. Harry pushed him off the couch. "Find your own place...let me alone...try the armchair. Harry pulled the afghan up over his head.
"Now go over and tell Linda that Paul's dissappeared," Harry said with a glance over at Paul sitting at his kitchen table eating some cereal. John began to protest, saying it wasn't a good idea (if his dream had meant anything, than he was afraid of what his feelings for Linda might lead to...) but harry was having none of it, and got John on his way heading for Cavendish Avenue on this bright summer morning...
He rang the bell. Linda came to the door. He was relieved to see she was fully clothed. "Linda- I have some awful news..." She pulled him in. "Don't let the kids hear you...What is it?" "It's Paul....he's gone...just up and vanished..." Linda's face fell. John ignored his better judgement and put a hand on her arm. "What can I do?" She shook her head... "I don't know...we fought...I threw him out..."
Then Spike Lee came in. "please baby please baby please!" Linda and John swung around, and their was spike the ever so cool dude, in his nike gear. the whole trip. "I got my B.A. from Morehouse, my M.B.A. from Harvard, I own my own new BMW 3l8i, I make fifty-three thou a year after teaxes, and i want YOU to want ME." "You so fine I'd drink a tub of yout bath water!" John sudddenly cut in. "Spike, why are you here?!" "Oh. I'm here just to remind you that the story isn't going well. Too much focus on Paul and Linda. MORE focus on you John my man!" John thought, and he knew that Spike was right. "YEAH!" "Ok that's great. now, i'm going now to make another nike commercial with mike!"
A siren sounded outside. Two officers walked in. "'Scuse me, Mr. Lee? Mark Milligan, Bad Plot Line Police. We're going to administer a sobriety test." It turned out that Spike was so drunk he had no idea what he was saying. Now on with the story!
John also hadn't passed the breathalizer test. A pity, because nothing is less interesting than the hero sitting in handcuffs in the back of a Paddy Wagon. "Couldn't you have handcuffed them in front? It hurts when I sit." He recieved an icy stare. "At least let me call Harry....tell him where I am"
"Aren't you dead, dude?" one of the younger officers asked. "Uhhh..." said John. "Holy Poo!" cried another. John looked suspiciously at the cops and noticed that all of them were rather short and roundish, especially the one that said "holy poo." And why were they all dressed in coats and tobagens? It was summer, for heaven sakes!
"Do I look dead?" He caught side of himself in the rear view mirror past the grate. He was pale and terrible. He looked dead. "Scratch that....do I sound dead?"
"Oh shit..." John said, because he DID sound dead. His voice was weak and odd, as if it were coming from somewhere else... He screamed and fainted from the shock.
Continued on Apr 01, 1998
Click to automatically return to this page the next time you visit Skywriting
Home | Web Chat | Web Boards | Discography | Library | Quiz | Art & Poetry | Links | Store
Produced by Sam Choukri
Frequently Asked Questions