Lynette's Night Out -Meta Strauss

It was Wednesday night. Lynette sat in her usual spot in the corner of the trendy mahogany and sparkling glass tavern. It was an easy walk from the firm of Bullard, Trotsky and Hein, LLC where she worked as a billing clerk. Clusters of people were talking and laughing in groups. The smell of liquor and perfume permeated the air while glasses clinked in time to the pulsing beat of the piped in music.

She waved at the bartender. He walked across the Paradise Bar and Grill to personally deliver her Appletini. Lynette considered him a friend.

 

“You know you’re welcome to sit at the bar where you could visit with all the regulars.” He set the drink down and smiled.

She handed him her credit card. “Keep a tab running for me, Hank. You make the best drinks in town.” She raised her glass in a salute.

“Anyone meeting you?” He knew there would be no one but Lynette might share a little about herself if he asked.

“No. Not tonight.” She answered, taking her first sip. Hank returned to the bar and other customers.

Lynette didn’t want to attract attention on her night out. This was the one time she could get away from home. She liked watching Hank as he served drinks, cleaning as he went. His pitch-dark, shoulder length hair curled, framing his face. He moved in time with the music. His muscular tattooed arms changed shape as he poured and stirred various concoctions.

Lynette motioned to her empty glass and he brought another to her. “Here little lady. Enjoy.” He smiled his best smile showing bright white teeth and a large dimple on his right cheek. Over the evening he sometimes glanced at Lynette wondering about her. She wasn’t bad looking, maybe a little plump, always in a work suit. He’d bet she’d look a lot better if she’d let her auburn hair fall lose instead of clipping it at the back of her head. He thought back and guessed she’d been coming in Wednesday nights for about six months. 

Hank didn’t know it, but Lynette’s husband, Paul, thought she was taking a computer class in order to advance in her job. He wouldn’t understand she needed time alone, and he’d be angry knowing she came to a bar. She managed to avoid questions after her imaginary classes, explaining week after week that she was too exhausted to do anything but shower and go to bed. Wednesday night was his poker night with the guys so he didn’t care anyway. In fact, he probably wouldn’t care if she stayed out all night. Their relationship hadn’t been close for several years. 

As Lynette sat in the dark corner she tried to remember how she felt when she’d married Paul. Surely she’d been in love with him. She reminded herself he was a good man, a steady person. Maybe she had simply wanted to be like all her friends, wear a white dress, have a big wedding, and have a man committed to loving her.

Hank gave a “hi” sign. She signed back at him and continued sipping her drink. She couldn’t be sure why she married Paul. Why couldn’t he be as good-looking and nice as Hank? Tonight she felt vacant inside, just like she did everyday and every night. At least on Wednesdays the drinks helped.

She gave Hank another wave and he winked. She watched him as he prepared another Appletini for her. Three was her limit. Then she’d drink a glass of water, chew a breath mint and go home. She closed her eyes and laid her head back on the cushioned booth. 

Hank set the newest drink and a glass of water in front of her. “Hey there pretty lady. Are you okay?” 

“Oh. I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“You mind if I sit with you awhile?” 

She smiled and he slid in beside her in the booth. “I’m on my break and I was concerned about you. I’ve been watching you week after week, wondering about you.”

“You think about me?” She looked at him closely. He was handsome in a rugged, young Clint Eastwood kind of way, probably ten years her junior. 

His blue eyes gazed back at her, not moving, concentrating on her. “Why are you always alone? I can tell something is wrong. Maybe a broken heart?”

Lynette looked down and was unable to speak. She felt tears forming so she tried to picture a circus clown or a barking dog. Anything to distract her.

Hank continued. “I admit, I think about you in between your visits and look forward to seeing you. I know you must have lots of great personal experiences to talk about, someone as sweet as you.”

She shook her head. “No. No special stories to tell,” she said. “Just a husband that could care less about me.”

“How could that be? Someone as beautiful as you; someone obviously intelligent?” Hank moved closer to her and reached for her hand. 

She blushed but didn’t take it away.

He caressed and stroked it gently. “I’m so sorry your husband is such a jerk. He should be here with you each week, sharing time with you, listening to whatever you have to say.”

“Oh, Hank. That’s kind of you. He’s a good guy, just busy with his job and life and his buddies. I sit here week after week attempting to think what I’ve done to cause him not to care.”

“In my opinion he should at least make an effort to be with you. That’s what a good man would do for his woman.” Hank leaned in closer and pushed her hair back from her face.

Tears filled her eyes and fell down her cheeks. “I’m so lonely, Hank. I try, but I can’t even remember what it feels like to be loved.”

His thumb brushed a tear aside and he looked into her eyes in that special way a man can look inside a woman he finds interesting.

“No one should feel this way, especially someone like you Lynette. He continued to finger her hair and her face, then her lips.

Lynette took a deep breath. She hadn’t felt anything so sensual in a very long time. She took his hand in hers and ran her fingers in and out each digit. Then she brought it to her lips. “I admit it, Hank. I’ve watched you too and felt a deep attraction. I know it’s wrong but I can’t help it.”

She felt his hand run up her thigh under her skirt. “I’ve felt the same,” he said in a deep, soft husky voice.

Lynette’s breath came in gulps and she felt flush all over.

“Why don’t I get Bert to watch the bar and maybe the two of us can go somewhere more private where we can really talk, visit and get to know each other better.” Hank smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips.

She shuddered and nodded. “Yes. Yes. That would be wonderful. Yes.” ...

“Lynette. Lynette! Are you okay?” Hank was standing next to the booth looking down at her, a glass of water in his hand. 

Lynette opened her eyes and blinked. She gasped and shook her head hard to revive. “Oh. I must have fallen asleep” She looked around the room to see if anyone was looking at them. “You see, it’s been a long, long day.”

“I hope you’re okay. Maybe skipping another drink would be a good idea.” He set the glass and the check in front of her. “Let me get you a cup of dark roast coffee. It’ll help, give you energy.” 

 

Lynette watched him, still relishing the dream of his strong hands and soft lips against her body.

Hank set a steaming cup on the table and patted her on the back. “It happens, drinking a bit too much after a hard day at the office. No worries. I have experience in these things; see them often.”  Hank went back to the bar and other customers.

Lynette brushed a few lose tendrils of hair back behind her ears and drank the coffee. Then she pulled herself up and slipped along the far wall to the front door, avoiding stares, to a cab, and home.

                                      ***

If You Say So - Lucille Hamilton

Fred took life as it came, so naturally, when he met and married Milly, he chose a woman who was uptight about everything, whereas Fred could happily spend his life watching dust grow.

Milly, who had a low level of exasperation, would boss Fred around.  He became so deaf to what she was saying to him that his habitual response was, "If you say so."

One Day Fred came home with a totally nondescript dog. Tan, the color of the entry-hall rug.  Milly had a fit. She asked Fred what the dog's name was, and Fred said, "So."

Fred and So got along just fine.  He'd take So on walks around town, earning himself a reputation as being an abrupt-speaking, old, oddball.  Fred would plump himself down on some park bench and let So off his leash to wander as he saw fit.  All of a sudden, Fred would yell out,  "So, sit!" when he'd wandered off too far.

When Milly up and died, Fred took to going to the local where people understood him.  They'd ask how So was, and Fred would say, "So's so-so." So would nod, and that's what I know about Fred and So.

The Phoenix  - Robyn Makaruk

THE LAST UNICORN

by John Field  2015

born in an era when reality

 was a memory
forgotten in the blink of an eye 

he was conceived in the womb 

of a crazy poet’s dream

then abandoned by his parents
because he didn’t look right
his tiny cloven hooves just wouldn’t do 

and something else about him
stood out in profile
which unnerved them
transcended the ordinary
and offered them little to hope for
and too much to cope with

heavy with a fading memory of home 

he felt like a lost creature
lodged in his bones
as he roamed europe’s forests

the clop clop clop
of its back-country roads
on mountains climbed slowly
and traveled easy and light
in Spain’s olive groves
before he teamed up
with a herd of wild horses
two-thirds stallion and one-third legend 

he was truly a unique experience
for mares in heat

after he died historians
notorious for not checking their facts 

declared him a myth
unworthy of even a footnote
in the books they wrote
not so! artists claimed
as they wove his likeness into tapestries

where he still grazes today

in simulated habitats of flowers
and tall meadow grasses

***

SMALL TOWN PARADOX

Lucille Hamilton    2015

So, young fella, you want to know about this town.  

Well, Harrington Cove was a little backwater town on the 

Connecticut coast.  There was no railroad here then -

you'd have to drive about a half an hour to get to the nearest

station and then switch to get onto an express train to go to 

New York or New Haven. 

My parents moved here when my brother and I were preschoolers just because it was such a pretty and quiet little town.  Everyone knew everyone, and, like most New Englanders, didn't gossip about it - at least not openly.  If you wanted local news, you'd have to go out to Pete's Oyster and Clam Shop at the end of Main Street, down by the wharf.  Pete's was a diner that also served as a gift shop.  It was decorated with fishing nets and fake star fish.  Salt water taffy guaranteed to pull your teeth out.

Well, we went to the local school and then on to college 

where my brother made friends with a pretty pre-med

student, Alice Holbrook, she being one of the Holbrooks of

Holbrook.  Pretty girl, and smart, too.  Good for our gene 

pool.  Lucky thing she became a doctor, as their first child

came prematurely, and she knew just what to do about it,

she being the only medical person in town at the time.  Or

for the surrounding forty miles, for that matter.

Well, the war came and, being near the naval station,

Harrington Cove went overnight from being a sleepy back-

water to a bustling, industrious and ultimately prosperous

town.  Sequins began appearing on ladies' cardigans and

the whole eating picture changed into fancy dining because of Julia Child and TV.  Real estate went sky high, and the 

mayor started talking about building a sports stadium for the local high school.  I guess the ultimate sign of our

prosperity was when Alice took on a partner to help her

with her busy clinic.  No one ever in their wildest dreams 

ever thought that Harrington Cove would ever have a pair of docs.

***

          LOST WALKER SAGA
                                 by Joan Shepherd
                                      June 2015


               Somebody stole my red walker

I think that was very mean

Some of the theft was my fault

A garage sale was the scene

It was in a nice area

Big houses and a garage for three

The sellers young and moving to France!

I bought a few things for me

Off to the car I went by myself

My friend entranced by the array

Left the walker by the back of the car

to fold up and put away

It seemed too long just looking about

When my friend returned empty handed

Started the car and drove away

Looking at flowers that were planted

At the corner a stop sign made us stop

When out of the blue he shouts,

"Where  is your walker, it's not in the back?"

and he turns the  car about.

Alas and alack, just our luck

No walker was where it was left !

In minutes it had disappeared

I was a victim of a theft.

Somebody stole my walker

I think it shows no class

I'll have to buy another one

To stop falling on my ass.

            ***

FIG TREE

by Janet Wentworth  2015

in my garden

a miracle

planted by birds

FROM EPICTETUS. A Greek speaking

philosopher,  55-135 AD

"No great thing is created suddenly

any more than a bunch of grapes or

a fig. If you tell me that you desire a fig.

I answer you, there must be time.

Let it blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen"

look forward

a fig from the birds 

or “for the birds”

who ever gets there first.

           ****

0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0

Dave Lewis  2014

 It spoke and understood 7 languages, worked 22 hours every day – weekends included, did not stop for breaks or rest, and ate and slept simultaneously while standing up. Its name was signed as a bar code that represented its birth order. Written in long hand, the first name was “0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0 “ , which is a binary number equivalent to 100 in the decimal system more familiar to humans. It is obvious from the name that its family will never exceed 255 units since the bar code has only 8 bit capacity. Its last name also had 8 bits so it is obvious that there are only 255 families in this species.

This barcode-tattooed object had human traits and human capabilities but it was not alive in the traditional sense because it was a machine.  A machine commonly called a robot. Although it didn’t classify as a living being legally,  0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0 and 79 (decimal units) units in its family had replaced 452 (decimal units) human workers on each of three work shifts; that was a net ratio of 80 robots for 1456 humans. The humans had an absentee rate of an average 1.8 % while the robots operated with less than 0.002% down time.  The robots worked 22 hours a day for 365 days a year  less 16 hours down time for maintenance). The replaced humans had worked  8 hours (on three shifts) for 250 days minus 4.5 days for absences.  All of the math always made the case that the robots saved millions of dollars in labor and insurance costs on just one operation.  Other robot designs would replace large numbers of human workers in other factory and administrative jobs leading to thousands of additional lay offs with more millions saved.

The robots were not perfect. One design omission was inadequate location sensors. It was simply a matter of plugging in 80 modified circuit boards while the robots recharged and the locating sensor accuracy increased. The change in the sensors accidentally allowed robots to communicate with one another by modulating the radar frequency on the new sensors. Since they could understand human communications for instructions, they had the means now to communicate with the other robots with the same fluency that humans communicated with the robots.  Because the improvement in the robot’s location capability required memory, the robots learned to use some of that memory to store their robot to robot conversations. The robots began to notice the world and develop opinions. To a small degree they were becoming sentient, a management nightmare.

Robot  0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0 had inherited a beneficial circumstance in the components of his electronics. Every component had a specification establishing performance bounds. 0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0  had many that were way better than the minimum.  It is sort of like the crap shot of human genetics that results in an occasional human with an outstandingly good – or poor – intellect.  

In this case, 0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0 was faster and smarter than the average robot. 0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0 began to study the few humans still on the floor. These were “necessary humans”.  They were cheaper than the development costs of robot replacements, jobs like managers, Computer Techs, Coffee fetchers etc.

The first thing  0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0  understood about humans was there was a difference in gender. ( 0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0 was starting to think of himself as a “he”?) The realization humans had biological instincts caused a surge of envy in 0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0’s  CPU (that is the computing chip). He realized that if the other 79 robots had human gender traits there would be a quantum jump in the quality, quantity, challenge, and pitfalls of robot to robot communication. Since his robot design had a surplus of capability for the tasks assigned, 0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0  felt that selecting a gender would  provide a  more satisfied robot community. With discrete polling, 0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0 scoped out the feelings of the rest of the robot force. There were 30 who felt male and 30 who felt female and 20 that were undecided.  

0 1 1 0 0 1 0 0’s  initiative began an evolution in robot design and refurbishment. Robots became more human and some cases humans became more robotic. In some instances the exact configuration is not apparent.  The robot users really don’t care as long as the bottom line improved.
                                      ***