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Writer's pictureRichard Lipscombe

Roger Dorset 


“Tell me about your first sexual encounter?” Wendy is fidgeting with her hair as if she means to be playful. Then she guides a delicate portion of pasta from her plate to her mouth. She smiles with a tease. He knows that smile. She is drunk. Well drunk enough to pose this strikingly irrelevant question to him. She is asking him about sex; and yet, they have not had sex in weeks.

 

“My first?” Roger says with just a hint of discomfort. “I can't remember”. 


“Come on... everyone remembers the first time they have sex.” She says as she shifts awkwardly in her seat. She is in no mood to play games with him. She wants an answer to a simple question and he is dodging it. 


“I truly can not remember”. Roger is agitated. He is brooding. 


“What is this? You show me yours and I'll show you mine?” He glares at her.

 

She continues picking at her pasta. One thing is clear; he is not about to show her anything right now. In their silent pause he tries to remember his first. He can not; he can not even remember how old he might have been when it happened. Upon reflection even he finds this strange. As she says you always remember your first time, right? And yet he does not remember it. What does this say about him? What is he to make of his memory loss about such a key milestone in his life? Perhaps, just perhaps, he lost his cherry when he left it on a park bench not when he had sex. As he mulls over his little ‘thought joke’ he suppresses a smile.

 

Roger says a brief goodnight to Wendy and begins his short walk home. It is a glorious night and yet the streets are empty. He is calm as his thoughts drift back to the first time he had sex with her. It was in the back of his car and due to a desperate lack of space it was awkward. All arms and legs and tits and stuff. The sex was good - for both of them - because it had been a long time in the making. But was it memorable? Where did they have sex the second, the third, and the fourth time? How many times have they had sex? The questions come flooding in but his memories of having sex with her are murky and vague. Roger stops and tilts his head up towards the perpendicular so he can better see the myriad of lights that grace his night sky. As he stands there, bewitched by this expansive universe, he begins to flip through his memory bank searching for his ‘moments of truth’ with the opposite sex.

 

He is thinking about the best sex he has ever had. It happened after a routine office Christmas Party and so this sexual dalliance was totally unexpected. Roger and Alison knew each other well but, only at an intellectual level, not in any sensual way. Whenever Roger was asked about Alison, before that night, he said she was a good friend, a highly competent colleague, but she was definitely not his type. So it was peculiar to see them sharing a laugh, a dance, and a drink together throughout that night. However... As the party wound-down they found themselves lurching arm-in-arm towards the front door where they were greeted most disapprovingly by their boss. He had positioned himself tightly in against the doorjamb; he stood like a centurion who was at the ready to protect her virtue? Perhaps that is not exactly how he thought of himself in that moment; however, this is the vibe Roger was picking up - from him - as these two stumbled towards him to say “goodnight”. The boss gave him the ‘evil eye’ in precisely the way one might expect from an over- protective father as he leaned-in and kissed her on the cheek. He was clearly flustered by the image of them together. Indeed their coupling seemed to be as unexpected to him as it was to both of them. Finally, he made an inane comment about driving safely before wishing them well for the approaching holidays.

 

Their immediate response was to grip each other even closer and laugh. In that instant they both let go all the sexual tension that has been building between them. Looking back on that moment - from this vantage point - Roger can see it was the beginning of the foreplay that led them to have such great sex. They had sex in the front seat of his sports car: it was a tight space but everything worked perfectly for both of them. Just before they began to undress each other he leant in, and in a hushed tone, asks her “are you sure you want to do this?” She nods gently her “yes” as she aggressively pulls him down on top of her. 


Their coupling is exhilarating: the physical act of sex is a complicated bundle of energy, passion, and urgency. After a short pause she pulls him down on top of her once again so they could repeat the whole act. Somehow the sex is even better than before. When they come up for air they look at each, shake their heads, and laugh. The fact they are together in this tryst is a mystery of nature; and yet, the sex is so good that neither of them can find words to describe just how happy they feel. They linger in the afterglow of it all for hours as neither of them is willing to risk what they had experienced by trying for a third peak. As the sun comes up they slowly make their way home. He stops outside her front-door and she gently lays her head on his shoulder. She sits there, with him, for an eternity but nothing is said because there is nothing left to say.

 

Roger is still walking home as he thinks of Alison and the extraordinary time they spent locked in their sweet embrace. Each time they meet thereafter they are both struck by the kinetic connection between them but do not act on it; three years later, Roger literally bumps into her as she is walking arm-in-arm, with her newly minted husband, along a downtown city street. She greets him warmly, introduces her husband, before she uncharacteristically lapses into a continuous stream of small talk. Roger is listening attentively to what she has to say but he is also embarrassingly aware that her husband seems very ill at ease; has she told him about their sexual romp or is he picking up on the palpable sexual tension between them? Even a man who is totally confident about his relationship with his woman can sense the presence of a sexual rival. In the end he concludes it is simply that he is running late for an important business meeting and he has no time, nor interest, in stopping to pass these empty gestures with a complete stranger. Once he leaves the two of them stand glued to the spot for a minute or so before Allison takes it upon herself to invite him to have a cup of coffee with her; she intimates that she has some matters she feels they need to discuss.

 

Even before their coffee arrives she admits that she is finding it difficult not to beg him to take her to a local hotel to ‘get a room’; she goes on to say how much she loves her husband and that she will never cheat on him. But... Her truth is that her sex life is very ordinary and she does not expect it will ever improve. She is not complaining about her lot, but rather, she is explaining - to Roger - how grateful she is that she had a strange, unexpected, and wonderful tryst with him when she did. Without their ‘moment together’ Allison would never have known what women experience for a moment, a night, a week, or a lifetime. Thus she urges Roger to never settle for any relationship that does not fully meet his sexual needs because he will never be satiated. Then Allison reaches across the table and cradles both his hands in hers as she speaks - in hushed tones - about her everlasting physical want for him; she contends that these feelings are a ‘sonic ping’ from a truly magical moment in her life - a moment that can not ever be repeated. As she gets up to leave she leans in and leaves a gentle, lingering, kiss on his cheek as if that is the best she can do; he responds with “goodbye Allison”. He never will see, or speak to, her again. 


His sexual connection with Alison is short and sweet; whereas, his sexual connection with Wendy is protracted and sour. Why is he being such a coward? Why is he still dating Wendy? His male friends all tell him that what he is experiencing with Wendy is about ‘as good as it gets’; thus, he should marry her, settle down, and have a family. Is that what he is holding out for - a chance to have a family with someone he hardly knows nor cares much about? As he thinks about that prospect he automatically makes a sharp left- turn which leads him to a short-cut through a local park: the fact that he is entering the park means he is getting close to home. As he shuffles along this well-worn gravel path each step produces a sound like sandpaper rasping on a virgin piece of wood. This sound is the only discord here where everything has a place and everything is in its rightful place. 


Roger loves the sheer orderliness of this park because it is proof to him that the combination of a good system, and structure, can prevail over chaos. The gravel path has a definitive border formed by a forrest of long-stemmed roses, beyond the roses is a hundred metres of scissor- trimmed grass, and beyond that dew-topped-carpet is a magnificent stand of old oak trees. All this is apparent to him because it is illuminated by a system of heavy-duty lights that makes midnight seem like midday. This place is the perfect simile for his ‘current state of mind’; his relationship with Wendy is as dark as today’s midnight, and yet, his memories of being with other women are as bright as tomorrow’s first light. He spots a dew-wetted park bench where he can plonk his weary bones and so he decides to sit for spell.

 

As Roger rests, and soaks-up the silence around him, he reflects upon who he has become. He is a single male in his late-thirties, he has a doctorate in the social sciences, a tenured chair at a well respected - for profit - American College, and he is very well respected by his peers and colleagues. He is an Aussie, by birth, yet he has not seen the need to visit his homeland for the past ten years. Roger is living his life as if he has become a huge tangled-web of seaweed which is being pounded, by an angry rolling sea, onto a deserted West Coast beach. He shakes his head as he tells himself to remain focussed on the subject at hand; his head- shaking is now accompanied by a clearly audible question. “Why do I choose to remain single in a world full of beautiful, and available, women who would like nothing more than to have my babies?”

 

***

 

Wanda was the classic girl next door. They were two fifteen-year olds who talked to each other through a side fence. His slightly younger sister is the match-maker in this plot. She arranges specific times for these two to meet, and talk, because each of one has a problematic father. Wanda’s father is an extremely hard- working migrant from Eastern Europe and naturally he wants nothing but the best of everything for his only daughter. But these noble aspirations for her has led him to be grossly over protective of her. On the other side of the fence, Roger’s step-father is a mean-spirited man who insists he work on meaningless and senseless tasks after school. If caught away from his tasking then he is harshly punished. So both these kids have good reasons to be ultra careful whenever they meet; however, with his sister as their constant lookout they are stealing more and more time together.

 

They stand facing each other and talk through the fence which is little more than a lattice-lace of wire which acts as no real barrier at all. And, as neither of them is particularly shy with each other there is an instant melding of two young minds as they discuss their plans for the future, current movies, wild dreams, difficult homework assignments, and strongly liked or disliked teachers. As they speak they both sense they are tumbling towards something special: something much bigger than the moment. Indeed whenever they are together it seems as if time stands still. As they become more familiar with each other it is common for her to reach out and touch him. Eventually they begin holding hands and gently stroking each other. Then one day Wanda leans so far forward that her face is almost touching his. He can smell her; he can sense her in a way he never has before; he responds to her by leaning forward too. In this unguarded moment his and her lips touch. They hold them pressed together for what seems like forever. They are only parted when his sister raises the alarm: her father is coming in the front gate on his way home. In a flash she is gone.

 

As Roger revisits his ‘love affair’ with Wanda he gleans an insight about it he has never had before. The moment Wanda disappears, after that first kiss, his boyish innocence leaves him too. Thereafter he and she make multiple plans to have sex but it never happens because the magic between them is spent. The intimacy they share - as two nubile, naive, and star-struck teenagers - is totally shattered by one long, lingering, kiss and they are never able to regain their composure as an intimate couple. What he, and Wanda, experience surely puts the sword to the myth that ‘love conquers all’. Their love did not prevail past that initial kiss and so the changes to their relationship are as swift and as French guillotine blade to the back of a peasant’s neck. With Wendy and Allison his coupling is physical but with his first true love, Wanda, it is metaphysical.

 

***

 

Janice has recently become engaged to his casual friend - Micheal - and yet the two of them are in his car way out of town over-looking a moonlit lake; and, she keeps whispering about just how romantic this whole thing is for her. Both expect they are about to have sex because their foreplay is exhausted. They kiss long, and hard, once more; then, they look fondly into each other’s eyes and smile. 


“We are in trouble”, Roger says with an audible sigh. “No. I am in deep, deep, deep trouble”, he corrects himself. She laughs and snuggles into his side. “Oh, well, let's go face the music”, he groans as he turns the key to start the engine. Jan laughs once again. Then she draws herself in closer to him and starts nibbling on his ear lobe: this is her final playful tease as he puts his car into first gear, presses the accelerator, and begins their long journey back to her parent’s place. He is driving way below the speed limit because they both wish they could spend more time together. But before they have travelled a mile at his snail-like pace she is jumping-up-and-down on the seat beside him as she urges him to turn the car around and head out of town not towards it. She wants to elope or to do whatever one does when a freshly minted fiancee decides to run away with her newest beau.

 

Roger reacts instinctively and turns his car around. She reacts instinctively too with a sustained burst of loud clapping, cheering, and hooting as he accedes to her whim. But just a few miles down the road with a glistening still lake in full view off to his right he steers his car cautiously onto the gravel fringes by the side of the bitumen. Jan literally throws herself at him and they start kissing for the umpteenth time - she is radiantly happy; however, she knows that this is their last stand. Once the kissing subsides he slowly turns his car around again and heads back towards town. The mood inside his car is intense because neither of them wants to do the ‘right thing’ tonight - they intuitively know they are both thinking the same thing within the silent recesses of their minds. The truth is they have been intimate but have not had sex.

 

However... What possible meaning can this innocuous fact have for the multitudes gathered in her parent's backyard? They are gathered there to wish Janice, and Michael, a happy and a long life together. The party has been raging for about an hour and half; meanwhile, these two still have a forty minute drive ahead of them. The situation is bleak, and yet, they both feel as if they have just conquered Mt Everest without the aide of oxygen masks: their time together has been so unexpected, so sweet, and so right.

 

How can he explain what happened, to them, to her parents or to his friend? Surely he must lie. He must come up with a truly believable story. He looks across at her curled-up like a playful kitten on the front seat right beside him: she is here because she choses to be; she is happy; she is totally his. Seeing how happy she is to be by his side convinces him that he can not lie: he knows any story he can possibly create will not hold up. Together they wear a highly visible sheen derived from their exquisite time together; but, only they will ever know that they did not have sex. They did not cross that indelible line. In their minds they remain pure despite their evil intentions and their reckless actions. But their version of events is not credible because it is not believable. They are both rather drunk when they leave the pre-party drinks many hours earlier without telling anyone where they are heading; and yet, all her girlfriends know they have gone off to be together. From the outset they have no plans to have sex and they had no desire to avoid it. But the act of sex can not be erased from this storyline even though they both know it did not happened. Everyone will naturally assume they did have sex, and yet, the truth is far worse; the truth is they shared so much more together than if they had merely had sex.

 

When they finally arrive at her house the party is in full swing. All the immediate talk is about her parent's relief that she is alive. Her father has been frantically calling every local hospital in his futile attempts to locate her. The whole scene is surreal; nothing is as he expects it to be. She is whisked-off to be with her family; he is left to face his friend. “We were drunk. We were enjoying each other's company and we forgot the time.” His friend is not buying whatever it is he is selling. Rather he seems intent on sending him to one of the hospitals that the family has been phoning all night. His friend throws a full blooded punch – it misses.

 

Roger is not sure what to do next. All he knows is that he needs to see her to assure himself that she is alright. He lingers as he waits to catch a glimpse of her; and eventually, he decides to skulk around in the shadows of her parent’s huge backyard with nothing but a beer in his hand and a prayer in his heart. He wants nothing more than to be left alone to brood; however, before too long, every unattached lady at the party is seeking him out. He is attracting them like moths to a beacon of light. At first he thinks they want the goods, the gossip, the dirt on Jan but he soon realises they are more interested in him. Sex is clearly on their minds - it is the last thing on his.

 

Roger is sitting on a wet park bench with his head between his knees. As he sits in this contemplative state he remembers the shame he felt as everyone blamed him for everything that happens to Jan thereafter. Seven days after her engagement party she returns the diamond ring to Mike; she says she did it because she must take stock of her life. Over the following months she often invites Roger out for a romantic dinner. Each time they are together they pick-up precisely where they left off on the night they went parking by that hauntingly beautiful moonlit lake. They always have fun - including some hot and heavy ‘fooling around’ - but they never have sex: intercourse is off limits because they are still both racked with guilty about that night.

 

As he thinks about Jan he tweaks himself because he has not spoken to her for the past couple of weeks; she is happily married, with three gorgeous kids, and yet she is always in touch with him. The connection Jan and he share will never be there with Wendy and so he is sure and certain that when these two do eventually split-up they will never speak to each other again. He is shaking his head as he admits to himself that he and Wendy are just two grasping souls who seek each other out to ease the pain of being alone. And yet when he and Wendy are together they might as well be alone. 


***

 

Julia is eighteen and completing high school. Roger is nineteen in paid work and studying for a degree part- time. They meet on a rather awkward ‘blind date’. It sprang from a common situation where a couple is dating and they invite their two best friends on a ride along. These things never end well so his expectations are low. Of course he is immediately awkward around her. He is a dunce; he is inarticulate; he is clumsy; and he acts like a typical nineteen year old boy in the presence of a princess. Well that is how he views the whole situation until they pile into the back seat of his friend's car; she reaches over to take his hand in hers and invites him to call her “Jules”. 


“So where are you taking us? What is on your evil minds – you two?” Jules says to the two in the front seat who are already necking. “We are off to the footy club for some drinks. Then a meal followed by a movie.” Is his best friend’s matter-of-fact reply.

 

They look at each other while still clasping hands and laugh. Both can see the funny side of their situation – they are merely tag-alongs. However each of them gets on so well with one of those two setting the pace that they settle-in for what they know will be a fun ride. As Jules orders a beer he realises that this girl fits in anywhere; and, his tacky football club is pretty much the definition of anywhere - indeed, it is often the last place he wants to be. Jules takes everything in her stride with a sense of grace and a maturity that belies her age. She is a mature young woman who is enrolled in a prestigious, and very expensive, ladies college. At school she is a day student because she lives on a farm which is just a thirty minute drive away. However his footy club is a solid ten hour drive away from both her school and the family farm. Yes... These two girls are on school holidays; they are staying with relatives and the truth is they have come to visit his friend. To the likes of Roger it is so simple, and yet, so complicated.

 

He can not, for the life of him, remember anything about the movie they see. All he remembers is they talk all the way through it while his friend kisses his way through it. So it seems fair to conclude that the movie is not really that memorable. However his date is incredibly memorable: she is open; she is funny; she is intelligent, she is inquisitive; and she is a natural tease. As her opening tease Jules asks him if he has ever had sex; and, if so, what is that experience like for him. As a follow-up she asks him if he has ever loved 

someone, or some animal, so much that it is an emotional wrench for him to ever leave him or her behind. Then she pleads with him - with an impish little smile on her face - to tell her something he has never told anyone else. He confides in her about one of his most embarrassing moments in his short life and she solemnly vows to treasure his secret as a sacred trust between them. For his part, Roger begins by asking her some rather mundane questions about her family and her life back home on the farm. Then he becomes more personal with some questions about her friend; specifically, he asks her what it is that makes her friend so special. Once he really hits his stride he asks her about her philosophy on life and who she most admires in her family. He asks her about her plans once she graduates. Then it is his turn, to tease her, so he asks her how come she smells so darn sweet. He is on a roll so he implores her to tell him her funniest joke ever.


On a more serious note, at some point during the movie, Roger asks her to name her greatest fear. Their questions, and answers, flow so easily between them that it seems there is nothing they can not share. 


Towards the end of the movie he asks her if she has ever been this intimate with anyone else on a first date. Jules says no. Then she asks him to tell her about the funniest blind date he has ever been on. Roger laughs as he vividly recalls the time he went on a blind date, to the beach, with a friend from work and two simply gorgeous sisters. “The next day we are all gathered together once again; this time we are playing Scrabble on the lounge room floor of the girls’ family home while their father sits silently in the corner reading his book, sucking on his unlit pipe, and minding his own business. The game is a complete ruse as no word on their Scrabble board might ever be found in a reputable dictionary. When his friend reads out the scores, after each round, he seems to be flashing the green-light for more tickling and teasing to begin. Clearly this game is much more about making one’s partner laugh than forming words that come from the English language. After about twenty minutes of this mayhem the girls’ father puts down his book, lays down his pipe, and stands up to his full height of six foot six inches to declare that each of the boys is dating the wrong sister.


Jules loves the story so much that she has spasmodic bursts of laughter over it for the rest of their date: she finds it so hilarious because this is something she can well imagine her own father doing and saying. His time with Jules is over in a heartbeat even though they go parking after the movie and the boys end up having to sneak the girls back into their house just before the sun comes up. He recalls waving her goodbye - she blows him a kiss - and poof she is gone. He is sure he will never see her again because the girls are heading home the next day. He is lost as he struggles to make sense of it all. Perhaps they are just two kids who went on a blind date and got on so well that they did not even feel the need to kiss. He is sure of one thing though – he really misses her.

 

Two weeks later Roger’s friend tells him to pack his bags: they are off to see the girls this coming weekend. He fondly remembers the ten hour drive because all he wants to talk about is Jules and all his friend wants to talk about is football and popular music. They take turns in guiding the discussion as they take turns at the wheel. He is driving when they eventually swing-up into her parent's drive. The homestead stands above them on a steep hill top with a built-in expanse of hypnagogic views. All around it is the rural marvel of rolling green pastures fully stocked with quality dairy cows. As he steers the car around to the back of the house he notes the neatly fenced-off garden beds and the nuisance value of some pesky sheep who wander aimlessly in front of him as if to purposefully slow his progress. This is a tranquil place: it reminds him of her. It crosses his mind that she is the embodiment of the serenity and natural beauty here.

 

Inside the house it is a hive of activity as preparations proceed for dinner that evening; it turns out, they are here to share in her parent's Twenty-fifth Wedding Anniversary Celebrations. Thus the area immediately behind the house is a wonderland of beer barrels, bottles of wine, stacked chairs, long tables, and cooking equipment. As they stroll in the backdoor - through the kitchen - and on into the lounge it seems that ‘Operation Anniversary’ is moving into hyper-drive. There is no time for proper introductions before they are put to work: he is tasked to help her father set up some fairy lights in the trees out the back. In the centre of this huge room stands her mother where she directs traffic and deals out the cards from a rather large pack of jobs that must be done. She stops what she is doing and comes hurtling towards him. She embraces him, as if he is her long-lost son, and plants a huge sloppy kiss on his left-hand cheek. “The one you want is not here right now: she has some urgent chores to attend to in town. She will be home soon”, she says in a deliberate yet hushed tone. Her father grabs his forearm and deftly leads him out into the back garden. While they hang the tangle of fairy lights he hears her father's story. He was in legal practice in town when his father died and left him the farm. That was fifteen years ago. He was more than happy practicing law; but, he simply loves farming.

 

His time with Jules is short; before he knows it he is home again. His memory of their first weekend together is a collection of stolen moments with her as everything around them is chaotic. She is truly amazing; she trusts him the same way her parent's trust her; and, she accepts him the same way her parents do her. At key moments during the weekend she lovingly refuses a shared impulse to move their relationship into the fast lane. She wants them to have some slow-lane time first; their best friends are already in the fast lane and she 

does not think that their approach is working all that well. He agrees. They decide their friends can consume all the sex, happening within their pact, for the time being. This is a pact of four. Indeed if they were living in close proximity then they would be inseparable. However it is that ten hour drive that makes their pact so intense whenever they come together.

 

Month, after month, after month, they get together on every other weekend. His memories of their times together are full of highs but he is also aware of some rather embarrassing lows. Each new low occurs as he makes a complete fool of himself and, by association, of her. There is the time they go parking and somehow he manages to get both front wheels of his vehicle suspended in mid-air over a ditch: his prospective father- in-law has to come out at 2 am on a fog-bound Sunday morning - with his tractor - to tow them out. Another time they go next door - a three mile drive - to share Sunday brunch with the neighbours and are set the simple task of gathering-up the fresh eggs from the chicken coop. Everything is going well until they realise he has not securely latched the gate and so all the chickens are free to roam the backyard. With bursts of shrill laughter, and loads of fun, they quickly return them all to their coop except for one which manages to find her way to the top of the garden shed and she is there to stay. These are just two of a cascade of missteps, mishaps, and screw-ups he causes that deeply embarrasses him. And yet... all Jules ever does in response to his clumsiness is to make him blush, by teasing him unmercifully, and to initiate a full-on tickling war.

 

The boys take turns, with their cars, to lessen the wear-and-tear on each of their vehicles: they also share the expenses for everything consumed over these full-on weekends. For both of them it is soon a ritual which they seem to handle with consummate ease. Tuesday night down at the footy club - as he has done so many times before - his friend asks him if he is ready to go be with the girls this coming weekend. His usual reply is “yes” with a superfluous “of course”. However things in his life are slightly ajar this time as he explains that his two front tires are dangerously bald. Immediately his friend offers him his car but he declines his kind offer. He acknowledges the point that they have a well established routine but surely they can delay their next trip for just a week: he has a pay packet coming and new tyres are not cheap. They agree to do just that; they will simply reschedule everything as they slide their trip back a week. The girls are fine with this new schedule although they always want their boys with them and, after all, this is party season.

 

He is woken, abruptly, by the incessant ringing of his phone. His friend is calling. The message is brutal – “Jules is dead”. The girls go off to a party together; however, Jules is not enjoying herself so she choses to get a lift home with the neighbour's daughter and her boyfriend. They are less than a mile from her home when a drunk driver – on the wrong-side of the road coming over a hill – smashes his fully-loaded truck headlong into their car. All three of them are dead on arrival at the hospital; meanwhile, the drunk walks away with little more than minor cuts and bruises. He puts down the phone as gushing tears roll down his cheeks. He can not believe she is gone. Why her dear God? Why did you take her? She was so innocent, so pure, so loved by him and by everyone else who ever truly knew her. Jules was no saint, however, she was the nearest human form of ‘saintliness’ he can imagine; she will never be replaced.

 

All he can think about is how this is all his fault. He should have been there. He should have borrowed the money for the new tyres or he should have borrowed his friend's car. He is a fool, he is pig-headed, and he - alone - is responsible for all this pain. If he had been there she would still be alive. His thoughts continually churn over a series of guilt-laden narratives as he slips into a pain-induced trance. He keeps repeating his unfettered guilt mantra in a clear sign that he is losing his mind. He is numb; he is frozen in time; his life is sterile and his once translucent future is now opaque. There is a loud banging on his door. His friend is here to be with him: hugs are shared but few words pass between them. They are sad beyond belief; they are both engulfed by a turbid swamp of misery. His friend has come to help him to ease his pain: however, they both know his pain will never go away.

 

Roger is done thinking for this night; he gingerly lifts his stiff buttocks up off the hard-wooden-planks of his accommodating park bench; his eyes are filling with tears, his heart is heavy with remorse, and he is unsure on his feet. Why is he here and Jules not? He picks up his walking pace as yet another bout of anger, rage, and uncontrollable grief wells-up within him. He can never forgive himself and he can never ever accept the notion that Jules is not here to have his babies. The truth is he is alone and he will always be alone. 






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