Going Home

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Going Home
Publisher & Category:
Lucrezia Magazine

EXCERPT: The wind howled like unleashed demons...like a nightmare the hot punishing sand stung as it flayed flesh from bone...golden finger tipped claws, garter belt and crotchless panties, silky thigh high stockings and black high heels were glimpsed through a veil of forgetfulness...a lusty dream personified for a dull middle-aged man...and ancient memories awakened by the roaring sand...


The day was clear though there was a chill in the air all the more noticeable due to the steady desert wind. As the sun journeyed westward, dusty brown fingers reached across the cloudless deep blue sky. The fingers became thicker and the wind stronger as a reddish brown stain rose from below the western horizon. The stain became a dusty brown wall that hovered for a moment at the edge of the city, then with a deep roar cascaded across the glittering, anonymous fleshpot of Las Vegas. A hot muffling darkness of storm-whipped dust tore palm fronds and bark from palm trees, scored windows, and sent cars skidding into one another. Within moments frantic people with stinging eyes and dry throats, and bloody lacerations of exposed skin, rushed for the shelter of the world-famous Strip casinos.

An unnatural stormy night consumed the day as the howling dust storm roared through the streets and alleyways, the parking garages, and burst through the tiniest cracks of doorways and window sills. That night as lights flickered throughout the valley there were only so many slot machines, so many roulette wheels, and so many card tables one could lose at, and so many bars one could drink at.

For Lester Scopes, an obese and balding, conservative book shop owner from the Missouri Ozarks, the storm brought no change to his night life. Weeks before as he made his reservation to attend the bookstore owner convention in the beckoning city of sin, images of private lust fulfilled with beautiful and willing women paraded through his thoughts. In Las Vegas the lusty images faded into dry nothingness before the reality of a noisy convention empty of adventure for the likes of him. The women he saw were cool professionals looking for rich men or adventure-seekers looking for anonymous hunks for a one-night stand.

None of the women were for the likes of him…

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