Late night muse attack

Well I got up in the middle of the night to pee and this hit me. I thought I should write it down. I don’t know if it will go anywhere. The annoying thing is I can’t use it for NaNo. 🙁

 

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We were in the Student Union finishing up breakfast when Allen handed me the school paper. “Hey isn’t Professor Walsh your adviser?”

I swallowed my bit of muffin and took the paper. “Yes he is. Why?”

Allen pointed to a photo of a very attractive middle aged woman. “He got some of that. Can you believe it? That old prig.”

I was confused. “What?”

He gave me that look again. The look that said, “How can someone that is literally a rocket scientists be so stupid?”

He pointed at the paper again. “The article about Cindy Stalls and her time on campus when she was a grad-student.”

“Who?”

Allen put his hand on his forehead and feigned a faint. He did this a lot. Allen was dramatic. I always attributed this to him being a graduate assistant in the Drama department. Some of my colleges in the Engineering Department sad he was very gay or too gay. I knew Allen had sex with men. Actually he seemed to have a lot of sex with a lot of men but I didn’t see how that related to the dramatic attributes of his personality. I had met some of his gay friends and they didn’t seem any more dramatic than normal. I liked Allen. He introduced me to a lot of woman. Which I thought was very nice of him. I liked women but didn’t quite understand them.

Allen recovered from his faint. I had finished my muffin. “The writer,” he said, “Cindy Stall. Probably the most famous person to attend this podunk university.”

I shook my head. There was that look again.

“God, if you were gay I’d spank you.”

He said things like that a lot. I got the oblique reference to the folk saying of wanting to knock some sense into me, but I didn’t understand the reference to my sexual orientation.

“Her last book was turned into the movie we saw last Saturday. You know the one with all the sex in it. The one where you had to go take that long shower after we got back to the dorm. Remember that?”

I felt my face burn. I knew masturbation was a natural and healthy outlet for men, but I always felt embarrassed about the casual way Allen talked about it. And I found it highly disconcerting that he always seemed to know and remember when I did it.

“Yes I remember that movie.”

He sighed. A sigh like a man in the desert getting a glass of water. Drama. “Finally! Well she wrote it. She did her MFA here. And she fucked Walsh.” He pointed at a paragraph on the newspaper page.

…Yes, it is true Rodney [Walsh] and I had a moment. We shared study rooms in the library and we’d chat every now and then. We really didn’t have much in common. He was in the Engineering Department or was it Physics, I don’t know something science and math related. Anyway it was the holidays and I had just broken up with Jarrod and I didn’t have anyone to take to the department holiday party. I was pretty devastated by it at the time, although it seems pretty silly now. But I was sitting there in the study room crying my eyes out when Rodney comes in. Well he is quite the gentleman you know, he is the inspiration for Roddrick in the film. Well let’s just say we went to the party together and I woke up in his dorm room the next morning. That was the end of term. We were reassigned study rooms the next term and we really didn’t see much of each other after that. You know…different circles. I don’t think it really meant that much to him. It was rather embarrassing, but when I saw him at the President’s reception last night I don’t even think he remembered who I was…

I looked up from the paper.

Allen leaned in. “I mean look at her. Can you believe it?”

I looked at the photo again. “No.”

I didn’t believe it. No man could have sex with a woman like that and not remember it. That was when I knew my suspicions that Dr. Rodney Walsh was an alien were true.

Author: Stephen del Mar

Stephen del Mar lives in the Tampa Bay area and writes in the Southern Literary tradition. His stories are character driven with rich settings. They often have a touch of the paranormal, supernatural, or magical realism. Although he writes about serious subjects, they are sweetened with humor and wit. He says, "It's a southern thing."