A.G.E's Joint

It was raining in Pretentious Acres. Yeah, I know. You aren't supposed to start a story with a weather report. So sue me. It could be worse. I could be this is where the murder's began. But they don't. It's just a run of the mill adultery investigation. I’m an ex-cop and current private eye sitting in an oak tree across the street from my target, playing Peeping Tom with the woman in the window . Maybe I won't get washed away in the process. My scene is a standard five-four-and-a door with a brick colonial at the end of a cul-de-sac. You know, the Great American Dream planted like so much seed crop. A single tree in the front matches with a privacy fence in the back. Even the black Audi pulling into the driveway fits. According to my client, it also comes Maria the wife and two teen aged daughters, both of whom are both Counselors at a summer camp upstate. My client thinks his Maria is having fun. So, how do you solve a problem like Maria? you hire me

She sits at the mirror Primping. Hoping the date goes well. He sits in the car Sweating. Wondering how he got here. An odd situation it was Today. Melting wax sealing ruby slippers in the rain. The reward is now. A date. And he doesn’t even know her name. Stepping up to the doorbell It rings A bouquet of flowers answers. Matching the red and yellow ones In hand. It sounds cheesy to me. But smiles form simultaneously From each As they step into their futures. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic- Jay Sole Pic- Barbara Kausteklis Pic Guesses: Primping (in blog), Ruby slippers (in blog), bouquet (in blog), big date, makeup (Blog title), Mirror on the wall.

My name is Cain. My mother thought it was cute. Names have fates and mine doomed me to be a fugitive for all my days. Trouble always finds me . I have no delusions of grandeur . I am a slave to this demon, Trouble. Like every other good slave, I bow to its dominance. The demon has commanded me here, to a restaurant overlooking the harbor. A wall of dark clouds sit on the horizon. A weathered dock sits lies next to it. A sailboat drifts toward port and home, rainbow sail contrasting with the gray. She sat across the table, smiling. Blonde and bland, the face would be at home on a cereal box or insurance commercial. The figure and dress were unremarkable. It smells like fresh gardenia in the rain. Soft and soothing, To anyone looking from the outside, it was a Doris Day movie. The dashing young man meeting the attractive young woman on the sly. It was a charade , of course, all of it. She was a client with a problem,her husband. A name and face I knew a long time ago. I was h

The late afternoon storm clouds his vision. Or is it the tears? Rainbow letters scatter in the fun-house mirror. June is for summer and fun, not gloom and mourning. A suitcase of memories overwhelm him as he turns into the parking lot. Tagging along with Mom and Dad on shopping trips. For some reason, the memory of going next door and adopting the cats floats up. Dad later ran over the one he picked out, but the other one lived he was old. He’s never forgotten that. But in the end, it doesn’t matter. Waiting for the store to open, it occurs to him. These are the last days of childhood. Whether he wants to or not, it’s time to grow up. Liquidation signs are a wiggle jig to a bass , drawing him closer and closer to the hook, to his doom. A couple of shrink-wrapped games for future trades, he told himself, to turn for a profit. It is a lie, of course. He only buys, never sells. The collection fills two rooms upstairs and is growing. He might have to get a storage bin before too l