PaulPallazola
March, 1984 Fall River, Massachusetts.
“You give all your power to me. I don’t understand why you do that!” Kathe said between kisses after we had put little Jacob to bed. Yeah, I guess she was right Six years, thirteen states, dozens of letters and long distance calls it might be said I worshipped the ground she walked on. The fact that she had spent almost a year with the coke dealer I had almost fought in a Boulder bar hadn’t changed that. The fact that he was little Jacob’s father hadn’t changed that, and the fact I had slept with several women in the days between hadn’t changed that either. I would do anything for her, would take a bullet or fall on a sword for her without hesitation. We had gone to sleep and had the same dream, and i was certain our waking life would ultimately catch up.
We had opened a new chapter of hope the same sad night we said good bye to Bodeke, and I was determined to be as faithful as that sweet Black Labrador who loved us unconditionally. In the ensuing days doubt and fear would batter us like a Northeast Winter Storm. Like Don Quixote madly rushing to the windmill I shook off every negative thought because for one brief moment it felt like I could sing like Richard Kiley, and we had reached “the unreachable star”.
What an emotional bomb in such a small container. 🙂 I love your writing. 🙂
Very emotional post …. thanks for sharing
But I thought you were the Man from Manchester, not La Mancha…
Ha Ha Manchester is the next town over from Gloucester…a little pricier than my neighborhood…
My bad, I knew you were from Gloucester but got confused. Man from Manchester sounds better in this context though…
Wow, a lot of emotion packed into a short space. Keep writing.
Thank you for you comment Ann 🙂
Very interesting and thank you
Great post, thank you for sharing.