Lipstick Fiction

I thought you might enjoy some light fiction--sometimes it is fun to escape the daily grind and submerge yourself in a refreshing fictitious fantasy life....if you enjoy it there's more at: http://lipstickfiction.blogspot.com/




Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep. Scott Adams

Chapter 11: COWBOY HEAVEN
Noa realized her core was no different at fifty-seven than it was at seventeen. Some things remain constant. In this she took comfort. At times, the rest of her world seemed to be spinning out of control. War, financial messes, wrecked relationships and work related woes could be overwhelming. It helped to stand back and observe, instead of trying to force her will upon the world as she once did. Sometimes life requires a person to be a spectator instead of a participant. It was a challenging task for Noa, but one she was learning to accept most of the time and actually enjoy at other times.

At various times in her life Noa fell victim to at least five of the seven deadly sins. Sloth and Gluttony were the two she had successfully avoided thus far. To Noa, sins were like burns. There were varying degrees of seriousness. Most of hers fell into the first and second-degree categories. Madders was third degree all the way.

He stepped off the bus carrying a saddle. Think Brad Pitt, a little taller, more chiseled, in a sweat stained cowboy hat, with a two-day stubble and wearing chaps. Noa and Elizabeth were window-shopping in Jackson Hole years earlier on the last vacation they took as a family before the divorce. The rest of the family, exhausted from the drive, opted to watch an in-room movie. Noa and her daughter went for ice cream, a walk around the town square, and a little night air.

The bus pulled to the curb, and both Elizabeth and Noa turned toward it, most likely from the noise and odor it emitted. Their eyes locked on the same object. Then, after a quick glance at one another, back to “the cowboy.”

“I’ll take that one.” Elizabeth’s teenage lust was in full bloom at sixteen.”

“You have excellent taste, my dear.” Noa continued to gaze as the cowboy lighted a cigarette while he waited for his baggage to be unloaded curbside. Better than the Marlboro Man. “Hmm, we’d better go.”

“Not yet, Mom, let’s watch a little longer.” Elizabeth pleaded as Noa began to saunter toward the next gallery window.

Noa felt a need to distance herself from the exquisiteness of his form; those sleek long lines and perfect proportions, but she turned back and reveled in the moment. “He is a vision. Remember this one, it’s a once in a lifetime treat.” Noa licked the melting chocolate from the side of the cone, and admonished her daughter. “It’s rude to stare, mind your manners.” But Noa, like her daughter, could not resist. The temptation took on a power of its own.

The cowboy threw his cigarette butt on the sidewalk, ground it out with his boot heel, threw the saddle on his right shoulder, picked up his lone bag and began to walk away.

“Let’s follow him Mom.”

“Elizabeth---we shouldn’t.” But Noa had never wanted to pursue anyone more in her entire life. Primal urges surfaced beyond her control, and Noa was flooded with unbridled desire for the complete stranger, the cowboy. Good Lord, what am I thinking? He’s twenty-eight, thirty at most, maybe no older than twenty-five. And I have children, a husband and responsibilities. What am I doing?

“We have to, he’s a walking piece of art.” At sixteen Elizabeth’s passions were boys, art and horses, the latter was the longest-lived.

And so they did.

The cowboy left the town square and headed in the direction of Noa’s hotel. It was a warm August night and the sidewalks were filled with urban people playing cowboy for a week, but Noa sensed he was aware they were following him. He turned once, paused for only a second, and then continued walking.

Noa touched Elizabeth’s arm. “Honey, we have to stop this. Let’s go back to our hotel.” As she spoke the cowboy looked back at them again, a little longer this time. Noa took her daughter’s hand and stopped in the street. “Let’s go, we’ve had our fun.”

They watched as the cowboy cut across the street, and disappeared into the night. Noa felt a sense of loss as the vision disappeared. That will never come again. She closed her eyes and made sure he was imprinted in her memory forever. She recognized and appreciated God given beauty, and she was sure she would forever treasure the cowboy as a beautiful memory and cherished moment in her life. His essence moved her in a way she had seldom, if ever, been moved before. She doubted Elizabeth would ever forget this night too. It was an unlikely mother daughter bonding experience.

They walked in silence until Elizabeth spoke. “Mom, we met the universal man tonight.” Elizabeth’s mood was giddy.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I thought he was absolutely hunky, and I could tell you liked him too.”

“Oh, really? And our unanimous approval makes him the universal man?”

“Yep, sure does.”

A New Tilt to the World As We Know It

Last week was a wild ride in the US financial markets, and don't take your seatbelt off yet. My guess is there will be many more ups and downs before we hit smooth water again.

I had clients call and ask if they should take their money out of Washington Mutual. I had buyers put their offer on hold until the lending situation improves--heaven only knows when I will make that sale.

What's a real estate agent to do? This one rolled out of bed and pulled out the yoga mat. Yes, it's time to take a few deep breaths, inhale, exhale and hold on. Next, I went for a walk and by the time I returned home I actually was smiling.

$700 billion is a lot of bad loans and don't you wonder why it wasn't stopped at say 100 billion? I'm all for capping salaries and bonuses for the Wall Street movers and shakers, and the big boys at the banks we're bailing out. I'm seeing the little guys who took out those junk loans lose their houses; I think it's only fair the institutions who made the loans and sold them off lose something of value too.

Let's play fair for a change.

High Heels in the White House

The long, tall shadow hovering over the other three candidates in the presidential, yes, I said presidential race, has an unfamiliar shape to it; it is distinctly feminine.

That's highly unusual in the land of cowboy and Indians (male figures come first to mind), the land of the free (but women have had the right to vote for less than 100 years) and the home of the brave (women make up 54% of the voting public and hold a disgracefully low percentage of political power positions). But change is in the air.

Maybe Sarah will be on the winning ticket and maybe she will not. It doesn't really matter. Hillary made a historic run for president, and Sarah continues the fight to break through the gender blockade to the White House.

It may take a woman like Sarah to be the first woman Vice President of the United States. She's smart, tough and gets the job done, yet she also reveres motherhood, family and life. Not to mention she's a babe with a beauty queen past. Consequently, men (and conservative women) find her less threatening than a woman who advocate the right to choose and other more liberal viewpoints. White males are more comfortable with conservative women. Conservative women are more comfortable with a woman who shares their point of view. The silent majority ( and that would be the 54% of eligible voters) is tired of being represented by an overwhelmingly male voice. Her time of arrival is spot on.

She is one of us. She's juggled a family and a career. She is a small town American girl, and there are lots of women who share her story and are ready to see her make history. I don't agree with all her views, and I certainly don't agree with all of the views of the man who selected her as his running mate.

I do applaud him for his very brave choice.

In 2008 it's a shame a woman (or a black) on the ticket is so very newsworthy.