He’s In Love With The Girl In The World
My roommate threw me out. He tapped out some morse code nonsense on our latest find. A shard of rosewood. The former top of a grand piano. It amplified the steps of his fury as he told me exactly what he thought of me.
It’s not the first time people haven’t taken me just as I am. It’s a lonely world I inhabit. I never know who I can trust with my true self.
I wonder….on that score, do we ever know?
I can’t stay here any longer. My resources are extinguished. I came to the Big City to avoid my fate. To lose myself in something bigger. To force open a different portal.
Instead, I’ve stared at my Very Last Closed Door.
My father, he wants me to sell cars. He’ll give me the whole shebang some day. A dealership that bears my name.
If only I can stand to live in East Tennessee.
A man like me? In 1952?
How can I sell a luxury automobile when I sold out my dreams? Will anyone buy my slick one-liners? Believe the marketing schlock I spew?
Two nickels in my pocket. It’s a hard place, the crossroads between selling a body or prostituting a soul.
A fiction series. Long overdue. Because, you must be well-and-truly-sick of reading about my life by now. So, what happened to that door? A series of possibilities. I’ll explore one or several. If it was even a door I passed at an intersection on the way to an appointment. Read the first installment here, the second installment here and the third installment here.