A Nothing Gone to Nothing in No Time at All (A Guest Post)

 Markwildyr.com,Post #240

 

Image Courtesy of Dreamstime:

 

One of my Okie buddiesasked if he could put up two of his stories. Therefore, for the next two weeks,we���re having some of Donald T. Morgan���s works. The first one is a short storywith a long title: A Nothing Gone to Nothing in No Time at All. I asked himwhat that meant. He said to read the story. So here goes.

 

* * * *

A NOTHING GONE TO NOTHING IN NOTIME AT ALL

By Donald T. Morgan

 

He sprawled on a cheaptowel spread over warm sand. Cool sea breezes, lightly perfumed with the scentof hydrangeas, fought the heat of the sun to a standstill, making theatmosphere just about right. The wind dried the light sheen of sweat on hisbrow as soon as it popped out. But he stared out over the calm expanse of blue-greenwater, listened to the lap of wavelets against the shore, and felt ��� nothing.Despite the clean, clear air, he found it hard to breathe, gulping oxygenthrough his mouth like a beached bass.

Thirty-five and washedup. A piece of flotsam deposited on the beach by an errant wave. Driftwoodabraded bone-white and brittle by sea brine, stripped of blood and nerves.

Great job. Gone in aflash. ���Sorry, Cal, we���re having to cut back. This depression���s hit us hard.You���re young and a great programmer. I���m sure you���ll find something fast.���

Yeah, right.

���Sorry, Cal, you���reover-qualified for this little job we���ve got. But your resume���s solid. I���m sureyou���ll latch onto something more appropriate pretty soon.���

Translation: You���re tooold. Won���t fit into our corporate culture.

Fantastic marriage swampedby a sea of debt. ���I can���t take it anymore, Cal. A friend of mine in Iowa hasoffered me a job. It���s not much, but at least I can pay my bills.���

Yeah. Her bills. Whatabout the ones she���d run up when times were good? And that friend was arecently divorced old boyfriend. Howcould she? They���d been so involved, so wrapped up in one another ��� until hisjob disappeared.

At least she���d left him atwenty-five hundred square-foot brick with pool and exercise room. In ninemonths, that was gone, too. Sold to cover a delinquent mortgage. Car hadn���tlasted much longer than the house. And the banker had been a golfing buddy too.

His entire world inruins, he���d cashed in what few assets Marilee, the bank, and the mortgage househad left him and headed south. South to Florida, but that wasn���t south enough.So he caught a berth on a trawler probably engaged in smuggling drugs into���andwhatever was in short supply���out of the US. Somehow, he���d found himselfdeposited on a small, thinly populated island somewhere short of South Americabilled as a ���tropical paradise.���

He shook his head. Wherethe hell was he? Nowhere. With nothing but a few dollars in his pocket. Maybeif he sat in the sun long enough, he���d shrivel and die, a withered, forgottenmummy. A nothing gone to nowhere in no time at all.

He was about to close hiseyes and sink farther inside himself to maybe commence the dying process whenhe caught something at the edge of his vision. Someone walking. Someone with aninadequate bra and a sarong-like scrap tucked around her waist. Someone with along, graceful stride.

She subtly altered hersteps so she���d pass a little nearer. He took inventory as she approached. Darkskin. Mexican? Certainly Latin. Narrow waist. Broad hips. Barefoot. Long darkhair falling below her shoulders and bouncing as she walked. Big gold hoops intiny earlobes. Green eyes. He couldn���t see them yet, but he was willing to beton it.

Then she was close enoughto discern features. Broad nose, wide mouth, smooth brow. She glanced his way.And smiled.

Cal sat up straighter,hesitating only a moment before scrambling to his feet and starting after her.He���d do that mummification thing later.

 

*.*.*.*.

What can I say.Life does tend to go on despite our intentions.

 

By the way, Idon���t think I���ll do any ���simultaneous��� postings again. While Don Travis���sreadership held up during my Yip, Yap, and Yup three parter, mine dropped tozilch. Must mean we have mutual readers. And since I post twice a month whilehe posts weekly��� well, you know.

 

My contactinformation is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:

Website and blog: markwildyr.com

Email:markwildyr@aol.com

Facebook:www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr

Twitter: @markwildyr

Now mymantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing.You have something to say, so say it!

See you later.

 

 

Mark

 

New posts the first and third Thursday of the month at6:00 a.m., US Mountain time.