Click here for Kissed Part 2.
What life is there, what delight, without golden Aphrodite?
Mimnermus of Smyrna 634-600 BC.
Love is a silly infatuation… I love nobody.
Napoleon Bonaparte 1769-1821.
Last night, I received an envelope from Royo Girl containing two computer printouts: Kelly Brook topless and Paris Hilton’s legs.
6:30am Royo Girl is visiting today, I thought. I hope she makes it. It seems too good to be true. I'm so excited. But I should prepare myself just in case she doesn't come - remember what happened with Claudia. I never imagined I’d feel so happy over hugs and kisses - and hours of female company. Calm down, it’s no big deal - or is it?
I need to plan for her arrival. I’d better check the breakfast menu to see if there’s anything likely to cause bad breath. Let’s see: hot cereal, biscuits, grilled potatoes, and three ounces of sharp cheddar cheese. Uh-oh. The cheese is out of the question. I can’t be kissing with my breath smelling like sweaty socks. I’ll give my cheese to Slingblade.
Standing in front of the mirror, I thought, I look like Edvard Munch’s The Scream. Those nose hairs will have to go. I’ need to shave my face smooth, and get rid of that hair below my Adam’s apple. I'll give my ears a good clean.
What about clothing? OK, George did a good job pressing my pants. My new boxers are good to go. And my new T-shirt. There’s my socks, my sneakers. I’m set.
10:11a.m. “Dog eleven, you’ve gotta visit!”
Wow! She’s here. It’s unreal. Get dressed – fast!
My clothes found themselves on my body so fast they didn’t know what had hit them.
Go-go-go! But what about all the paperwork on my desk? I can’t leave it like that, I might get a ticket. It’s going to take me ages to file it away. What should I do?
Behaving like one of my childhood heroes, Thing from the Fantastic Four, I growled and seized the paperwork. I raised it and threw it toward an open drawer. It travelled through the air like an origami tumbleweed, spitting pens and envelopes. I slammed the drawer shut so hard it banged the wall and made my neighbour yell, “Whatthafuck England!”
I tossed an apology into the AC vent, and launched myself out of the cell. I felt like a guided missile programmed to strike the visitation room and propel through all obstacles in its way.
Like confetti bouncing off steel, inmates' heckles couldn't slow me down..
“Should I place medical staff on standby at the visitation room in case you get too excited?” Officer Gundel yelled. His question failed to slow me down.
Standing at the front of the visitation room, smiling but also looking a little nervous, was Royo Girl. I couldn't take my eyes off her face - it had a hint of Irish mischievousness, and her black outfit enhanced it's radiance.
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood