Turning the Pages This Evening: The Knockout

I’ve been awake and alert and active for the past twenty hours, yet my brain is still churning this evening.

I had a really nice time at Catch A Fire tonight – I enjoyed some rum on the rocks (Bacardi Anejo and Bacardi Eight) and a pleasant breeze, and the outdoor seating is truly relaxing (see link for photos).

I can’t say I was a huge fan of the lamb souvlaki, but I guess a fair question would be why I went Greek in the Caribbean.

Well, the waitress recommended it over the grouper burger – but my pita was tough and I’ve had better Tzatziki.

That said, I’d go back – probably for an early-evening cocktail before the sun went down (the atmosphere was what did it for me, including the nice reggae soundtrack).

Now I am winding down in my cottage looking over some fiction, listening to the ocean through the open window (it’s pretty cool here tonight and no air conditioning is needed).

I’m proud to release a new story – I call it The Knockout.

The Knockout

“Stunning would be an understatement,” he told him. “Honest to God, if that fuck doesn’t get down on his knees and thank the Lord. She is way too fucking hot for him.”

“Oh settle down man,” his friend told him, “You don’t even know him.”

“Fair enough,” he said, “But I still mean it. She’s crazy stunning.”

“Why didn’t you go for it then?”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Say something?”

The man shook his head. “Impossible. Saying something would have just made her think about it. If it were to happen it would’ve had to happen in the moment.”

“Why didn’t it?”

The man lifted his shoulders. “He was always around.”

“So what you’re saying is you weren’t good enough to pull her.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

His friend pointed to the picture of the girl smiling with the gleam coming from her hand and he said, “Hate to say it, but that face isn’t because of you. Stop thinking she’s looking at you – it’s only a picture. Your vision is cluttered. Focus and carry on like long division my brother.”

“Don’t quote rap tracks, man.”

“All I’m saying is there are a lot of other girls out there with just as pretty a face and just as tight a body and teeth as white as Vanilla Ice.”

The man laughed and exhaled at the same time and said, “Fuck you man.”

His friend laughed with him and patted his shoulder. “Hang in there buddy. It will pass.”

“It’s been over a year,” the man admitted to his friend, the smile fading as he got the words out. “That’s sort of crazy, isn’t it?”

His friend opened his palms to the sky and said, “Should I say it again aloud or is it silly enough already?”

“I just hope she’s happy,” the man told his friend, “Because I would have given it one hell of a shot.”

“You think you have it in you?”

“There was this one picture of her and it made me laugh out loud. I couldn’t do anything but smile.”

“You’ve said nice things about a lot of girls, to be fair,” his friend pointed out.

“Can you not see the difference?”

As his friend went to speak the man waved his hand and said, “Forget it. Don’t answer that.”

“I don’t want to know,” he told his friend.


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