Recycled short stories: Ex-reflections/Amber Sometimes

since i won’t be able to post tomorrow, here’s your book post. a short story i wrote back in Japan, and a reposting of “AmberSometimes”. enjoy, or feel free to point and snicker. stay up.


i don’t have much to say at the moment as far as posting, so here’s my first short story. i wrote it back in Japan while i was still neck deep in heart-ache over Beth. contained within is all referring to actual women and scenarios (mostly about Beth). what is written here actually took place back in Novemeber 2005. i’ll only keep it up for a day or so. then it’ll be removed. so enjoy now, or don’t. i’d actually laugh at hearing it trashed. lol. note: it hasn’t been edited in 3-4 years. i’d prefer to leave it raw as to compare to if/how my writing has developed.

“Ex Reflections”

Morning. It had to be morning. Still asleep, but the haze of returning consciousness and dull orange canvas against his closed eyes told him it was morning. He thought to himself, “Do I get up?”. Thank God there wasn’t the blaring alarm pounding out to disrupt the sating cocoon of sleep. Arms flailing blindly for the pulsating contraption that works too well. “Do I even bother to look at the clock?” “Jesus, what time is it?” He pondered the first of many decisions to be made that morning, that day, that evening. He was warm. He was comfortable, and for a few minutes he dismissed the idea of leaving the elegant sanctuary he was bound to at 9:42 a.m.

The blanket was thrown open quickly and his feet hit the floor in a series of actions that were well rehearsed, automatic, pure instinct. It was slightly cooler without the Ralph Lauren comforter covering him. The synthetic down pillow catching saliva and his dreams. No turning back, he had committed himself to begin a new day. Very rare for him to dismiss sleep when it was still his for the taking. When he had a woman, he’d leave her to wake by her own devices. But most women wake when the man wakes. They sense when you are moving and nestle to you. Arm draped lazily over you like a spindly tripwire. One move and she knows you’ve gone. He’d move slowly out of bed and watch her lunge forward, bear-hugging his pillow and inhaling deeply. Even on the rare occasion a female friend would sleepover, and he didn’t have the heart to let her sleep on the sofa and they’d sleep beside him, they’d do this. But he was alone and none of this was an issue. So he jumped from bed quickly to get the day going.

He stood up, looked at the empty bed, “Oh mother, I can feel, the soil falling over my head….”.

He wasn’t sure why this song popped into his head, but it did. He walked into the living room and opened the door to the kitchen. It was noticeably cooler and his skin broke into goose-flesh. He thought for a second about his ex-girlfriend and how she’d know he was about to shower, and how she’d lazily join him. She’d walk into the bathroom with her head hanging, taking tiny steady steps to him. Her sleepy hair draping over her petit breasts. She’d step into the shower in front of him, taking in the fresh water. She’d slowly wake up and press into him, her naked body being covered by the hot water. Her hair would get matted down and her body looked stunning when drenched. He’d bathe her, pressing his thumbs into her shoulder-blades (which she loved), kissing her back softly, and massage the conditioner into her scalp. She’d go down on him. Not all the time, but often if she’d had enough sleep. And if he were up to it, he’d take her: then bathe her again.

Once in the bathroom he ran the hot and cold water to his liking. The silence in the house was deafening. He trudged over to the television, and turned it on to kill the quiet of the house. Then he walked to the refrigerator and when it opened the cold air sent a chill into him. His teeth chattered for a second as he grabbed the pitcher from the refrigerator. He took a long and deep draw of the water, trying to wash the disturbing taste of sleep and beer and nicotine from his mouth. As he returned to bathroom, the air was thick with warm steam; he undressed and stepped into the shower. He cracked the window to let a tiny bit of the cold autumn air into the shower and drain the steamy mist. The cold was a beautiful contrast to the hot water. He was comfortable and for a brief moment no other thoughts plagued him. He bathed slower than usual, sat down, and enjoyed the warm water. He wanted to savor the moment because few things brought him moments of calm like a long shower. There was nothing running through his sorted thoughts while showering. Life was on pause, autopilot, limbo. His friends and girlfriends always bugged him about the length of his showers. Once you find that thing that sates you; be it drugs, sex, God, you cling to it with your last breath. A long hot shower was his heroin. Said shower with a woman was next to heaven. He sat, and reveled in the nothing and the sound of the water falling to the linoleum.

There wasn’t much for him to do that day and it bothered him. He imagined She was there and she’d want to get lunch somewhere ridiculously out of the way at some place she’d read about in He’d just succumb to her choice from hunger and an odd sense of adventure from eating at a spot he’d never been. She knew he was territorial and she longed to break him of his predictability. She’d have a sense of victory knowing she’d introduced him to a new eatery. This never bothered him as much as she thought. Eating out was a religion to him, and a new restaurant was always a welcome distraction; reading the write up, the search, and finally the dining experience. But today: Vietnamese, Thai, and Chinese. There are few choices outside of the magic trinity. Japan wasn’t known for dining past the realm of Asian cuisine (at least not to him). McDonalds, and a few places in Tokyo offered American foods that he’d kill for. But it was too over-priced and not worth the train ride. $30-$50 round trip and $30-$40 per meal wasn’t his idea of casual dining unless, of course, he was going get laid. And that wasn’t happening in the near future. Not here.

Today, today, what to do with today? He hadn’t thought past lunch. Crawl before you walk. He was done showering and looked lazily with dread over the unkempt house. There were numerous messes that needed attention. But just as many times before, he simply looked at the mess. Knew if there were a girl she’d attempt to clean a bit.  His girlfriends always cursed his messy home. They’d make gestures at straightening it up, but he’d always stop them. Stop them meaning only to talk them out of it. He knew where all his things were. If he needed matches, they were under the Dali book on the coffee table, keeping company with some faint traces of dust and other books. If he needed nail clippers, they were on the kitchen table, where it was impossible to have a meal without a major undertaking of moving items. So he’d redirect their attention, there were more pressing matters to get into. They would shrug it off. Call him impossible and let themselves be carted away to something more worthwhile.

The train station was a good fifteen minute walk. He wasn’t trying to stay cooped up in his house today. But what else was there to really do without spending money he didn’t want to spend. He checked his phone. No messages. Checked his e-mail; spams and 2 letters from far away friends sending correspondences of courtesy. Simone said nothing more than hello and that she and her husband were getting through money issues, but they’d be fine. Andras gave him the details of his case with the Louisiana State Board of Nursing concerning his DUI. He’d make it through. Wife split and he was free. Nothing else was of real concern after that. He knew Andras would weather well, he was too aware of the feeling of not being tied down and smiled at his friends newly found freedom. Andras was industrious, clever, and had too much charm to be held back. He knew his friend would recover without a scratch. So he responded to his letter with supportive words and prayers of fortune. Then it was time to get dressed.

Comfortable, worn, light blue jeans. A shirt purchased from a web-site he was a fan of. He sat back at the computer, flipping through channels on the television and scrolling porn sites. Delaying the inevitable leaving the house. He was going to jerk-off when the phone rang. He stood up and walked to the phones charger. It was Alex. Her partner in crime was out of country. Her best man friend and her weren’t talking. He was her next best option.

“What’s up girl?”. He spoke like he knew what she was going to say because he did know exactly what she was going to say.

“Nothing babe, Whatcha doing?”  she replied in her girlish voice.

“Trying to whack me bag, thanks for keeping me from it.”

She giggled knowing his sense of base humor, “Sorry hon, you doing anything else?”

“Nope.” he said. “Was about to head out.”   He said. “Hungry.”

“Perfect,” she said. “Where we eating?”

He thought for a moment. Do we meet up? Do I play the “I want to be alone shtick?” Shit, why not.

“What you feel like sweetie?”  he asked.

She made the humming sound that meant she was thinking. “I want Yakiniku, or sushi.” There was a drawn out accent on the “I want”.

“I’m open for anything sweetie, where’s your hubby?”

“ASSHOLE!!!” , she said this quickly, like she was waiting for that type of comment.

He just laughed and said, “Where we off to?”  He knew her mentality; he’d play into her game more so because she was so capable giving the type of feminine attention that warmed him. But after a certain amount of time being around her, he’d have to distance himself away from her for a few days. She was usually too caught up in her own world to be as good a friend as she claimed to be.

“Ok, meet me at the main gate.”

“Nope,” he said, “tell me where we’re eating and I’ll meet you there”. He had no intention of walking out of his way to find her; too time consuming. Besides, he wanted time alone to walk, think, and listen to some music.

They agreed to meet at the designated location. He’d be there first of course, knowing she’d bump into a few guys trying to buy some of her time. Inquiring about the new girl that worked with them and whether or not this new vixen would be willing to be lulled into their company. This wouldn’t happen of course and he snickered at the thought of it. More likely, her boyfriend would e-mail her every few minutes, since he was at work. Obsessively keeping track of her where-about’s and company. Quite an annoying thing to be eating with someone who has to check their phone every three minutes. Most of the conversation would end up being directed back at her relationship and by the end of the meal he would be ready to head out alone.

He knew it was cool out and he was looking for a jacket. He didn’t want to rush because he knew how slow she was at getting ready. He looked forward to seeing her since she was so receptive to his touchiness. She was touchy, and she seemed to gel with his mannerisms. It’s amazing how far touch can get you sometimes.

He walked about the house in anticipation. He knew he had somewhere to be. He didn’t really know what he wanted to do, but he was committed. His mind wandered to a girl he was crushing on and what she was doing. She had an amazing smile and eyes that held his attention for the moment. She had amazing lips that she glossed often. He ordinarily disliked shiny lips on women. Matted color, not shiny. The thought of the lipstick residue on his mouth made him not want to kiss, and he loved kissing. But for some reason he didn’t mind her overly glossed lips. When you ache for someone little details like that are often overlooked. But there was an issue, there was always an issue with the women he adored.  She seemed to like him, but she was seeing someone. She gave all the signs of attraction to him. But she was “with” someone. He was confused by the fact that she’d played into his world; knowing he was interested, but seeing a possessive man not attune to her persona. He remembered the time they talked for close to an hour, sitting close. They were telling stories about growing up and family idiosyncrasies, and difference between the New York and New Orleans.  He made her laugh and she’d touch his arm lightly, and beam an amazing smile. She’d agreed to see him, gave her number……………said yes. Possibly, he as just a safety net in the wings in case her current beau didn’t pan out. He thought about that knowing he had to meet his pseudo-date. All the while wondering what Miss not-to-be was doing. He replaced the thought of showering with his ex with her. Waking up lazily next to her, kissing her on his sofa as they watched movies. All this made him pause in the living room thinking of scenarios with her. Best not to dwell on it. It was time to move on and get something to eat.

He climbed downstairs into the room he never used. Grabbed his coat and opened the door to start his day.

He was greeted by soft rain falling into the Japanese alley. He was stunned, frozen, perplexed.

Japanese rain is like morphine chased with Nyquil. He stared blankly at the outside world.




“Oh mother, I can feel, the soil falling over my head……..”

He turned around and threw his coat on the downstairs couch, adding to the rooms clutter.

this is the alley-way to my pad in Yokosuka

He walked upstairs and turned on the television that buzzed with static electricity making the hair on his arms stand up. Thought of his crush. Thought of his lunch date. He sat down on the worn leather of the Japanese floor couch. He was going to call his date, but figured, “why bother?” He flipped through the channels and thought about what to cook. No point calling her. She’d figure it out. Besides, it wasn’t as if they were fucking or anything.

for the record…….this was what chased me out of new orleans and forced me to take to sea for 3 years in Japan.


reposting “Amber sometimes”

it’s late. i’m bored and i have 7.5 hours left on my shift, might as well write about something. since the posts most people (according to my stat boards) seem to read the most are the posts about “game” and my various hook-up with ladies, i’ll keep you reader’s happy. last halloween i went to new orleans on leave. i usually ALWAYS go back home for halloween. well, i met a girl (amber) via a mutual friend, angie. amber was easily: 8 looks, 7 body, 7 personality. when i met her i talked about about her incessantly to our mutual friend angie. now, i see beautiful women all the time, but i rarely feel the urge to talk to them much less pursue them. i made up my mind that i was going to get amber. PERIOD. sat, october 30 was the big party night in the quarter (saints game sunday). i was dressed as a box of wine. i went to the bar angie managed on bourbon to find out if amber was working (she was).  i honestly can’t remember what i said to amber when i first met her, i know i made her laugh though. i went to amber’s bar, she saw me, smiled, jumped on the bar on her knees and leaned in to kiss me. i didn’t go for her cheek, i kissed her (lightly) on the lips. i think i held the kiss for 2 seconds and put very delicate pressure to her mouth. she jumped down, and she said she was making me a shot,  i told her i didn’t like shots and she said she’d make me an easy one.

angie warned me when i told her i was going to bed her down, “she’s wild danny. but i’m sure you could handle her.” she looked me dead in the eyes when she said this. angie doesn’t dick around with you.  i’ve known her since high school and she’s always been direct.

ok, back to amber. she made 2 lemondrops and downed hers. i sat there. “aren’t you going to finish that?” i shook my head no and told her i wanted to do a body shot. she laughed and motioned for me to go to the end of the bar where she could come out. i placed the shot between her boobs and i dived in. i got the glass in the mouth then pressed my face into her breasts, she gave her chest a little shake. then i thought “what the hell” and squeezed her ass. when i was done with the shot i thanked her, and pulled her in for a hug. after i hugged her we kissed (just on the lips…..she’s a work) again, i got her number and she told me to come back at one when she got off. dinner was about to be served. it was 8:30-9pm’ish.

i ended up meeting some friends at the R bar in the marigny (just outside the quarter….no tourists). there were a bunch of ladies (and gay men) asking to take a picture with me b/c of my costume. the spigot for the wine was where my mule is located (ain’t i clever) and i had drawn the franzia logo on the front. this one girl, maria, was dressed as ariel from “the little mermaid” and asked if she could get a pic with me. i told her only if she sang “part of your world” and she immediately went into the song. i let her sing for 20-30 seconds and told her to please stop. she took a pic with me and we started chatting (most locals are VERY friendly people so this wasn’t unusual). once she finally got it out of me that i was in the navy (i don’t use being in the military as a crutch to pick up girls like most guys seem to do) she went, “OOOOH, A NAVY BOOOOOY.” i knew this was gonna be cake. i ended up having to meet my friend candi to bring her over to the place where were hanging at (which was a great excuse to leave maria, and make her miss me). “ok, well, we’re probably going to molly’s later if you come back and i’m gone i wanna fuck .” she said. i just winked at her. molly’s is another place popular with locals. i met up with candi and we went to a gay club to see her boyfriend (he’s a dancer there) and i got a text from adam (my boy since i was 5) “at molly’s. packed.” candi couldn’t get in, time to go.

maria and her epic rack
jen, and the photo-wrecker. she was the mad hatter from “alice in wonderland”

we got to molly’s and i introduced candi to adam and jen (adam’s gf….very sweet girl).  then went to get me and candi’s drink. while waiting at the bar i was scanning molly’s for maria (it’s not a big place) but didn’t see her. ah well. went outside and was talking with adam, jen, and candi for about 10-15 minutes, then i got happy. “hola sailor” i heard in a sweet voice behind me. i turned around and she bit her lower lip, tilted her chin downward,  and smiled at me. i looked down and dick was winking and giving me a thumbs up. we talked for a little bit and at around 1:30 (i didn’t forget about amber….gimme a sec. patience grasshopper) she mentioned her feet being sore and she was thinking of heading in. i told her i was going to kick back with my friends and maybe i could call her later on. then she casually says, “well, you know, it is late. might be a good idea if i had someone walk with me back home. you know, keep a girl safe.”

now…..this was definitely a line, BUT it was also VERY true. a marine was stabbed and died that very night in the quarter. now, i had all the IOI’s i needed to know maria was into me. but i REALLY wanted to fuck amber. when maria escalated, i err’d on the side of a sure thing over not knowing what was going on with amber. and i already got a feeling amber was down. i walked her home, we made out at her door. soon we were inside her apartment. soon after, i was inside her. WIN-SAUCE!!!

here’s the spin. the next morning i was leaving, i had to meet my family for lunch, i asked for her number so we could meet up again. she told me no. she wouldn’t give me her number. i felt SO USED *giggle, rolls eyes*. she told me that i knew a few of the places she hangs out at, if we run into each other again, we’ll see what happens. i found out later amber had gotten completely wasted the night before. i didn’t see amber again after that. i called her one day and she was in mississippi and wasn’t going to come back until after i had left. C’est la vie. in hindsight, i’m glad i didn’t sleep with her. the next time i went to NO (this past may), i found out angie didn’t talk to her anymore and that it wouldn’t be a good idea to sleep with her. i didn’t ask angie to explain. i took her word for it. sad, she’s fucking gorgeous (see below).

the night before i left new orleans, i stopped at one of the locals by my mom’s place to see if this bartender girl i had hooked up with was working, she was, and she let me know she wasn’t down. ah well. as i sat nursing my beer, the off-going bartender motioned my way and said something. long story short, she’s lyssia’s (my ex gf) friend. lyssia texted me one morning b/c she was in the ER with a friend (this same girl) and i diagnosed what was wrong with her. as we talked i tried to figure out the angle to take to get her to let me see her nakie. finally it hit me, “so….what did lyssia say about me.” i KNOW girls talk about how their man is in bed with their friends. this girls name was amber (i swear) and she replied that lyssia was quite happy with me. “no amber,” i said, “what did lyssia say about sleeping with me.” amber grinned and was clearly embarrassed and told me that lyssia ”had no complaints.” we talked for a about 15 minutes and she went over to talk with some friends. i finished my beer and texted her (i got her number right away) that i was about to leave and she looked over at me, held up her hand and mouthed “5 minutes”. i waited a minute or so, walked over to her and told her i was going. i hugged her and told her to meet me at the door in 2 minutes. i walked outside and amber showed up shortly after, i told her i was leaving the city the next morning and asked her if she wanted to go for a ride. “where?” she asked. i looked at her for a second, grinned, and said, “i  dunno, how about the boat-launch?” amber grinned and looked upward and shook her head while responding, “, danny….seriously.” i should point out that EVERY girl in kenner has made out with a dude at the boat launch at some point in their lives. i grabbed her by the front of her jeans, pulled her into me slowly while looking right into her eyes, and kissed her. we kissed for about a minute, i took her hand and said, “c’mon let’s go.” she walked to my car with me and put up some, but not much resistance, and she was smiling. we kissed more at my car, i opened the door, and she got in. about an hour later i dropped her off at her car. haven’t seen or talked to her since. this is more or less how it happened, i have the exact details fresh from my memory in the short story i wrote about the trip. but i can’t access the story until i get home. as yohami posted in response to my having the whole short story as one of my early posts, “it’s amazing how easy it is to get a girl into bed when you’ve slept with one of her friends.” yuppers. that’s EXACTLY why i escalated and went in for the kill.
my leave for october has been approved.
for the sake of maintaining my integrity i need to point out that these details are to the best of my recollection. when i can accesss the short stort story when i get home, i’ll make the necassary corrections. but the above details are more or less how it went down. i took the story down because it’s 13 pages long, and i go into the details about the sex. it’s VERY sexually graphic when i describe what i had done with maria and amber.
i need to try and come up with more stories to write.

2 Comments on “Recycled short stories: Ex-reflections/Amber Sometimes”

  1. Bill says:

    Great story on Yokosuka, Danny. You have some real talent as a storyteller.

    Interesting segue into Halloween in NOLA.

    How’s your visit home going?

    • dannyfrom504 says:

      It’s going. Paw-paw is on the mend.

      Thank you. I need to come up with more stories. The visit has been all about looking after the paw-paw. But….I’ve been eating some great food.

      Sent from my iPhone

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