Confesssion

I have a confession to make. I killed someone while Black Friday shopping at Walmart. I'm not proud of it. I guess I just got, you know, caught up in the frenzy and, heck, when I saw that tower of Blu-Ray DVD players for half off I...well I snapped the old lady's neck who was standing in front of me. I gently laid her limp, cold body on the floor and dragged her into the kitchen and home department where I dismembered her body and hid the pieces in various crock pots. In all the excitement I forgot about the DVD player...but I felt truly alive for the first time in my life! Now I know who's in control! Thanks for letting me get that off of my chest, Internet.

Seven and a Half Inches of Greene

Folks, I give up. I've attempted to write screenplays for both film and television. I've created a viral video. I've written short stories and a host of tweets on Twitter. Still nothing brings about any financial success. I thought about tackling social issues with some journalistic work but from what I hear there is no worthwhile success in that field either except maybe spiritually or in some karmic way but that can't buy me lobster dinners. I considered writing a young adult novel but if that were to become a success they'd uncover my file on Megan's Law and I'd be forever shunned and shamed. So I decided to set my sights on the under-sexed 35 to 50 female demo. Bingo! Pay-dirt. Tons of inspiration there for some reason. So without further ado, here's the first three chapters of my forthcoming novel, Seven and a Half Inches of Greene. It's a rough draft so be kind but feel free to constructively criticize because it's a work in progress.

Chapter One

After graduate school I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. I tried and failed to finish a collection of short stories but I ran out of ideas and more importantly, I ran out of loan money. I needed a job. My Contemporary French Pastoral Meta-fiction professor introduced me to a magazine editor and within a week I was gainfully employed at the offices of Sustainable Times Magazine – a monthly publication dedicated to the fast growing world of Environmentalism and for the first time I didn’t feel like I was hired because of my beautiful tits. I didn’t expect much in the way of duties there but I certainly didn’t expect to find myself in charge of collecting cubicle trash bins to empty and sort for the office compost heap. And I didn’t believe I was above menial tasks but feeding a yard full of South Asian black chickens wasn’t exactly where I saw myself after receiving a PhD in Middle Eastern Literature Studies. After a few months I was given a handful of small writing assignments – reviews of vegan restaurants, top ten ways to reduce your carbon footprint lists, how-to columns on making your own cosmetics from hemp oil, kale juice and free-range quail egg whites, etc. Then my big break came. I took it upon myself to do some investigative journalism and I wrote a scathing expose piece titled “Is Your Gluten Free Product Really Gluten Free?” The piece was received well by my editor and went to print during my seventh month at Sustainable Times. The article was a huge success and even brought about a few lawsuits against Nabisco, Soyhappy Foods, and Trojan Brand Condoms. The whole office celebrated and I was treated to a twenty-three course raw-food dinner at the city’s most popular raw-food restaurants. I’m pretty sure one of the courses was bark on a bed of dirt. I got plenty drunk on some organic celery beer though and was promptly poured into a rickshaw and sent home. After vomiting up what looked like the contents of lawnmower I checked my email but not before I watched some Farm-Hand Porn and pleasured myself with an heirloom carrot. I sat in my now moistened chair and read my emails. What’s this? An email from none other than Mavis Greene, CEO of SOLODYNE, one of the world’s largest efficient energy corporations! And he wants me to do a profile piece on him?! Where’s that carrot?

Chapter Two

         

I arrived at the SOLODYNE building twenty minutes before my appointment so that I could take notes for this chapter. That line was the first note I penned. I told you I studied meta-fiction right? “Why would Mr. Greene ask for me personally?” I asked myself. “I have almost no experience” I said out loud to myself. “Maybe that’s it – he wants someone he can intimidate and manipulate!” I screamed sitting alone in the lobby. “Is everything alright?” asked the six foot tall model that was posing as a secretary. “Yes. I have allergies” I countered. “Well he’s not going to manipulate me” I whispered under my breath. “Miss, would like a sedative of some sort?” queried that skinny bitch of a secretary. “No thank you” I thought.

The secretary stood and said “Ms. Horneballe, Mr. Greene will you see you now. Follow me.” Even though I had grown to hate her I had to admire this specimen. Long, naturally beautiful black hair, even longer legs that I could only imagine were only just last night wrapped around Mr. Greene’s old, wrinkled and bald head only momentarily stopping him from talking about all of his money. The prick. “Mr. Greene, Ms. Horneballe to see you” she said. There was no door? We turned a corner and we were in his office? I was disoriented. I looked down and saw only soil. I lifted my head and a twenty four year old ski instructor with a two week beard was reaching out for me. I’m dreaming. I lost my balance and saw only swirling sky above me. What the fuck is that smell! My eyes ripped open and the ski instructor was still there holding a thimble in front of my nose. I slapped it out of his hand on impulse. “What is that? Where am I? Who are you?” I said as if it was one word. “That was Ceropia Peltata. Trumpet Tree oil I brought back from the Amazon last week. Don’t worry I can get more. You’re at SOLODYNE and I’m Mavis Greene but please just call me Mav. That’s what the orphans call me.” I was still lying on the ground. “Orphans?” I said. “Oh. Yeah I volunteer at an orphanage three days out of the week” said the man whose penis I had already pictured wrapping my oiled fingers around. He helped me up. “Is that a dirt floor?” I asked. “Yes. Yes it is. I really don’t like flooring and I’ve grown to find comfort in the soil” he said. “I’m sorry I fainted. I haven’t had anything to eat today and…and well I guess I was a little nervous too” I confessed. “Nervous? What on earth would you be nervous for?” he asked. “To meet you I guess. I thought you’d be old, intimidating, serious. I didn’t expect…” I felt myself blushing. Not only was he not what I expected he was nothing I imagined could exist. It’s as if my vagina was allowed to design a human. He was hot. He was rich. Let’s see if he’s smart too. I pulled myself together. “I didn’t expect someone so young I guess. How old are you?” I questioned. “Well I see the interview has started. I am twenty eight years old, Ms…” I interrupted him with “Please call me Jennifer.” “Jennifer, I know you must be surprised at my youth but…well I was always a precocious kid. I graduated high school at fourteen. I couldn’t go to class every day while there was so much to see and do and more importantly so many people to save. I realized quickly that I couldn’t save them all and I could only do so much for this world without any money so I went back to college to get another degree – a more practical degree.” My curiosity was piqued, “What did you study before?” “Oh I’ve always loved literature so I went ahead and got an MFA in creative writing and I minored in philosophy” he said. I fainted again.

Chapter Three

“We should get you something to eat. C’mon let’s go back to my place. We’ll have more privacy” he said as he lifted me off his dirt-floored office. His strong left hand gripped the small of my back as his even stronger right hand grabbed my arm and wrapped it around his neck. As he lifted me our bodies for an instant were mashed together and could feel the rhythm of his breathing. I could hardly breathe myself when I realized how hard my nipples had gotten. I hoped he couldn’t feel my protruding flesh arrowheads but I kind of hoped he did. As I found my balance he began helping me wipe the dirt off my clothing. I quivered with every swipe of his palm across my back. “You missed a spot” I said as I pointed to my left breast. He smiled. “I like a good sense of humor.” "Then I hope you'll find my pubic hair shaving mishap hilarious" I thought to myself. His home was a ten minute drive off the main road into the forest. I sat at the kitchen table drinking a glass of wine while he prepared a meal of his home grown vegetables and wild mushrooms he picked while we walked up to the house. While I watched him make his whole wheat pasta from scratch I asked a few more questions. “So Mav, how did SOLODYNE start?” Suddenly he stopped what he was doing. He closed his eyes and spoke.

“Karmani ave adhikars te

ma phalesu kadachana

ma karmaphal hetur bhoo

ma sangostu akramani”

He opened his eyes and continued cooking while he spoke. “It’s from the Bhagavad Gita. Roughly translated it says ‘Thou hast power only to act not over the result thereof. Act thou therefore without prospect of the result and without succcumbing to inaction’.” He’s thoughtful, well-read and vaguely spiritual?! I need more wine. “I came across that quote while I was installing water filters to wells in African villages and I thought, you know, I just need to act – to do something big” he said. “I know the feeling” I replied. “How’s that wine?” he asked. I swallowed. “It’s really good. What is it?” I asked. “I made it here. I have a vineyard a few miles east of here. It’s a hobby of mine. Would you like more?” he asked politely. “Yes please! Aren’t you going to have any?” I wondered aloud. “Oh I don’t know if that would be entirely appropriate. I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea” he said. He’s gay. I knew it.