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The Figment, a congenial hallucination

Updated on February 15, 2014
Italian woman, painting by Charles Landelle (1821-1908)
Italian woman, painting by Charles Landelle (1821-1908) | Source

One recent fine Sunday morning, as I was munching on some factory engineered breakfast at my just-around-the corner Billions Served joint, eyes lost in my senior decaf-two creams on the side-no sugar-please-for here-thank you. a voice startled me. Not any ordinary voice. Not the do you mind if I take that chair voice. Not the would you like to supersize your order voice. Not even the overly friendly voice of the person in front of you waiting in line at the grocery store, trying desperately to establish eye contact, dying to tell you a slice of their life you absolutely don't want to sink your teeth into. All right, you got me, maybe I'm a loner. So what ? What if I'm perfectly all right ingesting food that I prefer not to know what it's made of, in the exclusive and satisfying company of his highness yours truly. So, as I was saying, before you rudely interrupted me, a voice startled me. A female voice, mind you. A velvety, soaked with honey kind of voice, half Demi Moore, half I don't know who, but a voice that goes straight where it feels very good, a part of us men generally contained by Hanes, Fruit of the Loom or Ralph Lauren. So, puzzled but appearing calm, curious while artificially composed, I looked up!

- "Holy mother of Mick Jagger, who the hell are you ?"

- "Good morning, Austin, how do you do today ?" And that smile ! No wonder the Arctic area is melting.

- "Seriously, who are you, do I know you, are you trying to sell me something, do you want to poll me, do you want me to register to vote in the oncoming election, are you trying to enroll me in the new all you can pop Viagra research program ?

- "Well, Austin, you should know better, you created me, I'm a figment of your imagination !" I had to think hard for a minute !

- "Are you, really ? Where do you come from then ? Did you escape from one of my stories ?"

- "No Austin, I didn't escape from anywhere. You created me, but you haven't used me yet, I have been in storage for months now, and to be honest with you, I got tired of it, so I thought I would get some fresh air and come visit you, you know, remind you that I exist !"

- "Well. I'm really glad you did, and if I really created you as you claim, I did a pretty damn good job, I'll say"

- "I know, and I thank you for that, I get lots of compliments, whenever you allow me to go somewhere. "

- "Do you mind standing up, so I can look at you?". And she did. She was wearing a black skirt, not too short, mind you, but certainly designed to showcase, and believe you me, there was a lot to showcase. As for a top, she was wearing a white blouse, slightly translucent, but nowhere close to slutty, while leaving no room for guesswork : the woman was built !

I suddenly realized the purpose of those pills I take to control my blood pressure, the said blood pressure suddenly going way up into the red zone. She was tall, maybe 5' 6", but don't quote me on that as I am a Metric person. Her black, curly, beautifully bodied hair, cascaded all the way down to where the sun actually shone on occasion as, she confided later, she liked to sunbathe in the nude. Her face had been stolen from an angel, and her full, sexy lips gave her a slightly pouting look whenever she was not smiling. Her silhouette would have had Marilyn and a few other gals I know throw a tantrum. And those legs : breathtaking limbs climbing way up to... I don't even want to think about it, but I certainly got an eyeful as she slowly turned around. After a number of difficult, dry and painful deglutitions, I finally asked :

- "Can I get you something, are you hungry, thirsty maybe ?"

- "Austin, Sweet, you don't seem to get it ! You created me, so nothing ever happens to me unless YOU make the decision. I'm yours, you see, so you call the shots!"

- "But is there anything you want or would like to do, without me deciding for you, I mean"

- "Honey, I know you didn't sleep well last night, but you need to grasp the fact that unless you decide what you want to do with me, nothing is going to happen. Which is fine, I can just sit here with you. By the way, you're making a lot of people jealous in here".

I looked around and it seemed to me that everyone in the joint was looking in our direction. The bunch of old geezers endlessly fixing the economy situation every single morning in the loudest , most obnoxious and incompetent way, was suddenly silent. I swear : one of them, the one with the steel circled glasses, was drooling, his tongue half hanging out of his mouth. I had to do something. So I asked the figment :

- "Do you have a name ?"

- "Not unless you give me one, I don't !"

- "Okay, okay I get it, So I'll call you....hmm...Alexandra. Sounds Italian, and you certainly look Italian to me. But don't you go stuff yourself on pasta and pizza now, remember what happened to your mother ! All right, Alexandra baby, what don't you go to this table over there and talk to these guys for a few minutes. I'm sure they'll be delighted, but please don't give any of them a heart attack. There are probably enough stents in all of them combined to build an oil pipeline from Alaska. So be nice, but not too flirtatious, all right ?" And off she went, the sight of her undulating rear end suddenly making the air thicker to breathe for everybody.

Now was a good time to decide what to do, and I scratched the top of my head, that particular spot where hair used to grow. Well. you didn't need to know that. Anyway, I came up with an idea. I could go home and change, and later we could go to lunch, maybe at Fishack, the best seafood joint in town, a place built on stilts out of driftwood and overlooking the ocean. Yes, that sounded like a winner. There we could talk and Alexandra and I could decide on the best course of action. I'm not gonna lie to you guys, I was getting very excited. What had started as the average, somewhat dull Sunday was taking me into unchartered territories. Me liked that !

So, upon her return from talking to the escapees from the retirement home, some of them now on the dangerous side of apoplexy. I shared my plans with Alexandra, and guess what, she agreed. She even clapped her hands at the prospect of having fish for lunch. Damn, was she beautiful. As we were walking towards the door of the fast food place, I asked :

- "Do you have a car ?"

- "I sure do. You gave it to me, remember" By now we were walking out and could see the parking lot :

- "Don't tell me !" I said . She grinned in the most adorable way :

- "Yep". Very proud of herself, too.

- "Holy mother of Hank Marvin, this is your car ?" as I was looking at a 1962 Bentley Continental convertible, Silver with a Navy top and interior, a freshly restored car that looked like it had never left the showroom. Her body glided to the passenger side, and she threw me the keys over the top of the car :

- "You drive, Darling Austin, it's about time you take her for a spin!" Yeah, and I'd like to take you...never mind! So I temporarily abandoned my beat up SUV and we headed to my place. I worked hard regaining human appearance, and selected a pair of light grey pants, and a blue oxford shirt, you know, falsely casual but nice :

- " Boy, you clean up pretty good ! Is it me or you just trimmed your beard ?"

- "Yes I did, shall we go ?"

The lunch at Fishack was the most enchanting time ever. We got a table right by the window and as we talked, and we did talk a lot, we could enjoy the view of the ocean, humongous cruise ships sailing towards the Caribbean and all. We both selected the gigantic seared steak of tuna with a puree of mango and tropical fruit, brushing aside the efforts of the waiter to push for whatever leftover food they couldn't sell yesterday. We paired the fish with a bottle of French Sancerre, and ended the meal with a slice of Key lime pie, my favorite. It was a joy to see Alexandra lick her fingers as she was fighting the whip cream. Now, if you are not heavily salivating by now, there is something very wrong with you, and you should either urgently consult your doctor, or read another story !

As we walked back towards the car, we took the convertible top down, Alexandra asked :

- "Ever heard of a song called "Afternoon delights?" I looked at her, puzzled, not quite sure where she was heading :

- "Yes. I happen to know the song".

- "Ever thought of acting it up ?" There was no two ways to see what she was getting at :

- Well, I never thought of it, actually, but there's a first time for everything, they say !" She gave me the cutest smile ever, and blew me a kiss.

- " I declare, Austin, you have such a unique way with women". Of course, she was lying, but I was still the one who got to spend that afternoon with her. And the following night . And the following week too. After that, she left and we kind of lost track of each other. I never saw Alexandra again and I miss her. I didn't get to keep the Bentley either. Bummer!

But I did get to use her character in one of my stories, though...

Copyright 2012 by Austinhealy, his heirs and assigns


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    • austinhealy profile imageAUTHOR

      Bernard J. Toulgoat 

      6 years ago from Treasure Coast, Florida

      Thank you so much, Epigramm, for your kind and encouraging words. It sure keeps the flame alive. As you can imagine, it was a lot of fun to write this little story, so I am very happy that someone appreciates it. Best wishes to you too

    • epigramman profile image


      6 years ago

      ...hard to believe this award winner has not received any accolades or comments yet have so much wit, charm and savvy - that I really don't think they could even teach this in writing class because you are such a natural at communicating the written word - and this is just so uniquely hubawesome .......sending my good energy to you and warm wishes too from lake erie time 12:39am ontario canada


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