It was supposed to be a fun, no holds barred weekend; and for Harry, my best friend, I guess it was.  We flew to Las Vegas so Harry could have one last fling before he tied the knot.  He asked me to go with him and I jumped at the chance.  I was working as a detective for the New York Police Department, and well...New York in the winter can really be one depressing son of a b*tch!  I wanted to go somewhere, anywhere where I could relax and yea, maybe have a fling myself.  I never expected that I would return home even more depressed than when I left.

It all started when Harry came into the hotel room.  That Saturday morning he got up before me and went out to see the sights while I slept.  He returned with a brochure and threw it on my bed.

“Check it out, John.  Pick one-- any one, my treat.  We’re going there tonight.  Come on, get up!  You’re not gonna’ mope all day here in Vegas, buddy.  Cheer up!”

“I know, I know.  I’m up.  I just have to shower.”

“Get your head into PARTY mode, bro!  I’m gonna’ check out the poker tables.  Meet me downstairs in an hour, okay?”

“Sure.”

Harry split and I decided to look through the brochure.  It was an advertisement for a high-end brothel and it had color photos of all the prostitutes available.  At first I was aroused.  The women were beautiful, almost too beautiful.  One photo had a naked blonde woman with soap all over her body.  Another had a topless, buxom chick licking her glossy, pink lips.  I looked at these girls and wondered about them.  Inside they must hate men, they would have to.  How could they stand our dirty kinks and perverted quirks?  A part of me felt sorry for these girls in the photos but I couldn’t help being attracted to them.  I wanted to sleep with all of them until I turned to page fifteen.  That’s when I saw her.

“No, it can’t be,” I thought.  It was the spitting image of a girl I went to high school with named Charlotte Bernard.

 “It’s her,” I realized.  Those green eyes and that red hair I will never forget.”

“Damn it!  What happened to her?  Why would she do this to herself?”

I remembered the way she was in history class.  Kept to herself but was no snob—just different.  I had a crush on her but I was going steady with a girl named Nancy.  One day Charlotte asked me if I would like to go to the prom with her but I already promised Nancy we’d go together and…I’m a man of my word.  I really wanted to go with Charlotte, though.  She was cool.  Really ahead of her time back then.  She wore all black and was into Punk Rock.  Said she wanted to be a writer.

I looked at the photo of the girl I had a crush on in high school.  She had on only a black lace garter belt with lace stockings and was licking the bedpost.  That’s when I became seriously depressed.  I was depressed about poor Charlotte Bernard, disgusted with myself, and with the whole miserable, f*cked-up world.

This story was written in the early 1990s.  It was first published in Imbalance An Experimental Collection of Micro Stories and Poetry, by Christine McGuigan (her maiden name) in 1998.  The author has given Useless Knowledge permission to publish it on its website.  The piece does not appear anywhere else on the World Wide Web.

Christine's website: www.chatnoirstudios.com

About the author:   Christine Bruness is a widely published author, teacher, and artist.  She believes in the infinite power of nature, recognizes the great potential of dreams and imagination, and understands that peace begins within.  Her artwork, poetry, and/or short stories most recently appeared in  A Hudson View, Skyline, Haiku Haven, Bewildering Stories, Ken*Again, 63 Channels, Poet's Ink Review, Poet Express, OCEAN, Bolts of Silk, Charlotte's Web, Spinnings, Shadow Poetry Quill Magazine, Poetic Hours, Ancient Heart Magazine, Because We Write, Poets Against War, Transcendent Visions, Useless-Knowledge, The Cynic Online Magazine: Cafe Del Sol, Wild Violet, and WOMB.  Her first published book of poetry, Imbalance, An Experimental Collection of Micro Stories and Poetry, received the Rose/Rosemary Zientek Award.  In June 2007, Christine won the Useless-Knowledge 500 Word Essay Contest for her piece, Cat's Eyes.


Email: chatnoir@comcast.net

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