final sandwich

Pick me up and carry me.

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Copyright © 2012, Michael M Wayman

“You can't go in there.”

I went in there and came straight out again; it was terrible.

“I told you, everything that's gooey she paints as stripes on the walls.”

“I have another idea.”

I went to my room and picked up the phone. “Hello Doreen!”


“This is Chardonnay speaking.”

“You don't sound like Chardonnay.”

“Doreen, come to the room with the big S on the door. I am waiting for you.” I put the phone down.

She opened the door. I had forgotten how tall she was, the biggest person I have ever seen.

“Doreen, take off your clothes!” She dropped her clothes in a heap on the floor and I removed my clothes.

“Doreen, pick me up and carry me to the bathroom.” We went into the shower and I washed her back and her chest and her hair. She put me down and I washed the rest of her.

I sat on her lap and dried her and kissed her. “We are going to put on some nice clothes and visit Chardonnay.”

We went to the room with the big C on the door; Chardonnay was naturally expecting us.

The two giant women stared at each other. How long since they had last seen each other? They rushed at each other and I was caught in the middle. I had often seen them in a sandwich, but this was the first time that I was in one.

I could feel the emotions. I could not see the emotions. I could not see anything. It was the final sandwich. It was the end.

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