Here's a story that I wrote while I was out on the road this last time. I hope you all enjoy it; and as usual, it is pure and total fiction. God bless you, each and every one... and please don't forget to vote.
MoogPlayer
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"Long is the way and hard, that out of hell leads up to the light..."
taken from "Paradise Lost"
by Milton
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"Dammit," the young woman hatefully spat, "Why don't you watch where the hell you're going?"
"Oh, my gosh, I'm terribly sorry," I apologetically replied, trying to help her recover the armful of papers that she'd been carrying before I accidentally ran into her, "It was an accident, I swear."
"Why don't you try getting a fucking haircut, asshole?" she venomously hissed, pushing me away from her, refusing my help in recovering her paperwork, "Maybe then you can see what's in front of you."
"Look, I said I was sorry," I suddenly, yet defensively growled, "Why don't you try being a little nicer, you might even get a date? God knows you sure as hell need one."
"Kiss my ass," she quietly hissed, "You long haired son of a bitch."
"Then why don't you mark off a chunk?" I sharply replied, "Because from what I can see, you're all ass."
As opposed to saying anything further, she very hatefully glared at me, and after gathering all of her papers from the floor, she stood up, and then turned and stomped away. I watched as she walked away from me. Granted, she was very beautiful and very nicely built, no doubt about it; but her actions made her as ugly as they come, at least in my eyes anyway...
"Jeez," I said, to no one, "What a bitch."
After gathering my own paper work, as well as retrieving my briefcase, I stood up and made my way toward the elevator so as not to be late for my appointment.
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Chapter One
Hi, my name is Mark Powers; I'm originally from Key West, Florida, but I attended college on an athletic scholarship at the University of Houston, in Houston, Texas; but I now live and work in Nashville, Tennessee. I'm six feet, four inches tall, and I weigh a solid two hundred and fifty pounds, with long shoulder length, dark brown hair, and pale blue eyes. I'm fifty-two years old, but what your about to read took place when I was twenty-five. I'd gone to college and gotten my Master's Degree in Architectural Engineering & Design, and because of my aptitude for it, I ended up graduating at the top of my class.
Before I begin the story though, I think a little of my personal background might be in order first. I came, not so much from a broken home, but I grew up without a father, as he was killed when his fighter-jet exploded after taking a surface-to-air missile in the skies over Hanoi during the Vietnam War. I was only six years old, and because I was an only child, I had no siblings either. I remember telling Mom when I was a teenager that she needed to get out and meet someone new, and maybe even re-marry.
However, Mom would always smile and tell me that I was the only man in her life, and I guess when it came right down to it, I don't think she ever really got over the death of my Dad, because she lived long enough to see me graduate from high school, but she passed away in her sleep one night during the summer after I turned eighteen.
I was lost for a little while after that, but because I inherited my father's strength of will, I finally got myself together and went to college. Still though, I had not only my Uncle John, Mom's younger brother, and his wife, Aunt Lisa, but I two girl cousins, Karen, and especially Tabitha, (whom I'll talk about later) their daughters, as well as my maternal grandmother (Grandpa was killed during the Korean War); all of whom were always there for me, which made my turbulent teen aged years a lot easier to deal with.
They were very wonderful people whom I felt blessed to have in my life back in those days, and it's because of not only their teachings, but also because of their influence that I became the man I did, a responsible adult who believes in doing the right thing at all costs, regardless of the consequences to myself. I also believe that principles don't mean a thing unless you're willing to stick by them even when they're inconvenient for you. Now, back to the story...
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Once I graduated college, I was recruited by a headhunter for an Engineering firm in Nashville, Tennessee. The name of the firm was Linder & Dodge, and they started me off at $68, 200.00 per year. I thought that wasn't too bad for someone just coming out of college; plus, they paid for my moving expenses and found me a very nice house to lease in a very nice neighborhood as well. The only thing I had to do was drive my car from Houston, Texas to Nashville, Tennessee. It took me roughly fourteen hours, because I chose to be safe and take my time; driving it over a period of two days as opposed to trying to do it all in one.
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After I got settled into what I thought would be my home for the next few years, I was given about two weeks before I had to report to work. That gave me enough time to basically learn my way around town; well, from my house to work, and of course to places like the area stores...as well as all of the places I would have to go in order to pay my utility bills, that sort of thing. And once I was finished moving in and getting settled into my new home, one of my bosses, a man named Michael "Mike" Dodge, came over to see me the Friday before I was to report to work on the following Monday.
"Hello, Mark," he jovially replied, shaking my hand when I answered the front door, "I'm Mike Dodge and I thought I might come by so that you and I could talk before you came to work on Monday. Is this a good time for you?"
"Yes sir," I smiled, happily shaking his hand, "Please, come on in and make yourself at home. May I offer you something to drink? I've got soft drinks, tea and coffee. I don't really drink a lot, but if you'd like, I can go to the store and get you a beer or something."
"No, not at all," he widely grinned, "I think a cup of coffee would hit the spot right about now, if that's alright."
"Yes sir," I smiled, "One large cup of coffee, coming right up."
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I'd just brewed a fresh pot of coffee only moments before he arrived, and while I was pouring him a cup, I took a moment to get a good look at him. Michael Dodge was a man in his early to mid fifties, with a full head of dark hair which was the same color as mine, only his had a touch of gray at the temples, but he had dark eyes. He stood roughly the same height as me and probably weighed maybe ten pounds more than I did, but my gut instinct told me that while he was a different sort of man, I would at least enjoy working for him.
"I wanted to be the first to welcome you to Nashville, Mark," he smiled, "And I think you're going to fit in well with the rest of the team at Linder and Dodge."
"I'm glad you think so, Mister Dodge," I respectfully replied, "And I wanted to thank you for giving me this opportunity, sir."
"Please, call me Mike," he grinned, "Mister Dodge is my father, and I want you to call my partner, David Linder, by his first name as well."
"Thank you, Mike," I smiled, "It's just that I was always taught to address the people above me by, Mister, Miss, or Missus."
"And that's good, too," he happily replied, "Because we definitely address our clients that way."