|
|
Award winning works ________________
| Three Lives of Larry Siegel Ever know anyone who went through a rugged divorce, that person being the "dumpee" not the "dumper?" Losing the single anchor rope they relied on to maintain their position in life, they're lost in a sea that separates parts of their daily existence into different boats. The Three Lives of Larry Seigel relates the protagonist's tennis ball tale as he bounces from one facet of his life to another, searching for a new compass and "true north." Three Lives is 22 chapters of laughs and two that elicit tears, because life seldom allows us to come to rips with its purpose without experiencing both. Larry Seigel's work, loves, and apartment home compete and conflict for control of his rudder as he sails through life. He's happy with his job as marketing manager of a commode manufacturer, but his life is complicated by its eccentric owner and some of its employees. His 3 love interests and his interfering ex-wife confuse him as he subconsciously asks, "can I find the right one without repeating my first mistake?" Larry's spare time provides no relief as he's buffeted by zany neighbors, mischievous pets and responsibility for an aging uncle. Larry's story is told through the unique POV of his eye glasses. Who better to tell his tale than this constant companion? The following excerpt is from Chapter 1 of this hilarious novel. We join Larry in the conference room waiting for his boss, Henry Muckenfuss, to unveil one of his "revolutionary ideas!" ~~~ All settled in and waited for "Mucky" to make his entrance for they knew their leader’s penchant for the dramatic and the unveiling of his latest creation certainly provided an opportunity. They didn’t have long to wait. Henry arrived with flourish, saying, "Gooood Morning, M & M Commodes!" in his best effort to emulate Robin Williams in Good Morning Vietnam. He strode into the room like a German general preparing to address his troops, a maneuver losing much of its punch given that Henry Muckenfuss’s boyish face and physique was more Michael J. Fox than Rommel. He looked twenty-five at forty-two, a fact he secretly lamented and tried to obscure. The scraggly mustache he wore looked like a Halloween disguise, not a permanent fixture on his face. The fact Miss Holland, his personal assistant, followed close behind and towered at least four inches over his five-foot six, didn’t enhance the desired impact on the assemblage. Amy Holland. Now there’s a young lady of unquestioned virtue and values. Henry hired her right out of business-college, shy, pure, and innocent as a new field of green wheat. She remained that at thirty. An attractive angelic face with soft doe eyes that matched her personality rested on a large body, but not heavy, all parts being proportioned properly over her five-foot eleven-inch altitude. Faithful and protective, she idolized Mucky. Larry considered dating her but an invisible sign pronounced her virgin as clearly as if it were in neon and while Larry’s not into instant gratification, having something to look forward to is part of his plan. In keeping with her persona everyone called her "Miss Holland" rather than Amy. Dressed in a tweed below the knee skirt—she never wore pants—and a matching jacket covering a yellow blouse filled with a set of "D’s" she did her best to hide, she wore glasses that made her look like the stereotype of her profession portrayed by a fifties movie. She positioned herself next to the platform and its shrouded mystery in an obviously rehearsed process. Mucky stood at the head of the conference table commanding attention with his silence, the broad smile on his face stretching the mustache on his upper lip, making it look like a tortured fuzzy caterpillar. Miss Holland, the platform, and the sheet covered product of his focused mental energies were behind him positioned to one side so all seated at the table would have an unobstructed view. He picked up a long pointer resting on the table, cleared his throat, and prepared for his speech and grand announcement. "What’s wrong with the bathroom?" Henry demanded, a question strictly rhetorical. "It’s an uncomfortable utilitarian place. Often its unfriendly, a place you go because you have to." He began pacing and gesturing as he answered his own question. I saw the thought reflected on Larry’s face, "Uh-Oh, Mucky’s been in his film library again—he thinks he’s Patton." Henry loves movies. He stopped, placed both hands on the table, his jaw jutted forward, his eyes interrogating his minions who were trying their utmost to keep straight faces. Henry’s voice rose as he warmed to his subject. "What do cold, hard, uncomfortable surroundings breed in a human being? Tension! And what does tension lead to? Stress! Ladies and gentlemen, stress is an unhealthy condition, the very bane of modern America. It’s making our people sick, physically—It’s making them crazy!" His emotional zeal was as high as the missionary Fischer addressing the Masai for the first time. "Will we standby in the face of calamity?" Walter Snively sniveled, "No!" The rest of the audience choked back their sentiments the best they could as several heads turned away. Henry waxed eloquent punctuating his words with hand movements, "Ladies and gentlemen of M & M, I say…we…will… not…allow…this…to happen. Behold the Solace!" With practiced grace he stood as straight and tall as his stature allowed smoothly sweeping the pointer at the salvation of mankind perched on the platform behind him. Miss Holland busily untied the string allowing it to fall to earth, then grasp the sheet and swept it away like a damsel removing a negligee to reveal her charms. Larry instantly recognized the porcelain outline of one the company’s standard models. But perched regally on the bowl area and attached to the tank at its rear was a golden work of art. The seat, lid, and a backrest attached to the tank were all a minimum of two inches thick. The soft looking material had gray swirls through bright gold and looked as though it should have covered a settee in a cheap French whorehouse. Slowly, deliberately, proudly, Henry turned to face the platform, short only peacock feathers as he strutted back to the monstrosity. Luke purposely dropped a pen on the floor to get his head beneath table level to relieve his heaving body absorbing his guffaws. Spinning on his heels Henry turned to face what he believed were his ardent adoring disciples. Placing the tip of the pointer on the seat he exulted the features and benefits of the marvel resting in front of them. "This will revolutionize the bathroom as we know it today. The Solace makes a visit there a relaxing, pleasurable experience rather than a hurried necessity. Look at this beauty. The seat, the lid, and the special backrest attached to the tank provide a soft, comfortable place to sit. A non-toxic liquid jell is inside each of the three components. When someone sits on the seat or lid and leans back against the tank this material fits the person’s form caressing the user. Why is that important?" Henry smiled at Miss Holland and, as pre-established, she stepped forward. He extended his hand and assisted her as she stepped up on the platform. She ascended the stage and seated herself on the lid like a queen on her throne. Amy sat, prim and proper, her knees tightly pressed together, pulling her skirt over them as low as it would stretch. A low buzzing sound started to fill the room. "Comfortable?" Henry asked. "Very," Miss Holland answered. She sat erect, her posture perfect, with her hands folded in her lap. Henry turned and faced his colleagues, who tried to hide smiles and swallow chuckles in respect for their leader. Mucky put his hand to his ear and briefly looked upward as though concentrating on listening. "Hear it? That humming sound you hear is the secret to the Solace. Every square inch of every surface of lid, seat, and backrest begins to vibrate automatically the second a person seats themselves on it, massaging them, relaxing them, erasing tension and stress. The soft material inside allows the vibrators mounted on the surface to contact every millimeter of the users legs, rear and back providing this revolutionary experience." Henry continued endlessly, extolling the virtues of his latest device, sure that the looks of increasing interest in the group assembled around the conference table whom gazed intently at his work of art, were that of admiration for his genius. Thus encouraged he restated, embellished, and droned on, basking in the perceived approval of his peers. If he had looked back at the focus of his audience’s stares he would have felt differently for the object of their interest had become Miss Holland. A subtle series of changes overcame the lady as Henry rambled on. On her face a strange look of curiosity and questioning started the blooming process. Slowly, very slowly this was replaced by growing alarm and panic. Her long sooty eyelashes began to flutter. It looked as though she would like to flee, but her loyalty kept her seated as previously unknown feelings swept over her. Poor wording, swept under her. Gradually a gentle warmness spread through her, her eyes closing and her lips parting slightly. Her posture, so proper as she first sat down, gravitated. First her back arched forward, her shoulders pushing backward. Then her knees parted a few inches, her head tilting back simultaneously. Time, surroundings, the crisis in the Middle East all lost importance as the throes of her first adventure with the erotic flooded over her. Her hands unfolded and slowly found the edge of the seat her fingers grasping it lovingly and pulling down gently. Her head twitched a little then started slowly moving from side to side. ~~~ Want to know what happened to Miss Holland? Pick up a copy of The Three Lives of Larry Seigel when it is published. Keep checking with this site - we will let you know who will publish it, when it is available, and how you can get it. |
"Open
Minds, Open Books"
