Jack knocked on the door and waited. A moment later, the door opened and there stood Veronica, dressed sharply in her evening gown, fastening a dangling earring onto her lobe. "Come in," she said with a smile.
Jack couldn't help keep his eyes off her shapely figure as he followed her in. He wanted to spin her around and plant a huge kiss on her. Awkwardly, he heard himself say, "Looks like you've been working out."
"Uh huh," she said. "Three days a week."
In Jack's mind, they were working out right now, with her straddling him on the sofa, her dress hiked above her hips, her body writhing against him.
She picked up an envelope from the kitchen counter and unceremoniously handed it to him. "Here you go."
The divorce papers.
She needed his signature. He needed her to need him like she did when they were first married, six years ago.
She turned to look at him and Jack spread his arms wide, cocking his head to one side. He gave her the best charismatic grin he could muster, the one that never fails. "One last fling, for old times sake?"
She looked at him blankly, blinked her eyes once or twice and then smiled and nodded. "Sure."
As he sailed through the kitchen screen door and tumbled head-over-heels into the back yard - right through the blooming azaleas he'd planted six months ago - one thought consumed him: I knew those damn judo lessons were a mistake!
My name is Richard Garrison and I write about writing, screenplays, and converting screenplays to novels. Proudly repped by Jackson Starr, of STARRPOWER TALENT AGENCY. I also write about existence and the nature of the Universe. Check out my script listing on Script Revolution. Please visit The Last Of Us Novel to read in its entirety.
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Sunday, June 10, 2012
Head Over Heels
I grew up in Plano, Texas. Entered the US Army when I was seventeen, right out of high school. I worked in a factory for six years building communication shelters for the military. Did a brief stint as a flight attendant for TWA. Worked for a bank a few years.
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