Chapter 1
↣ But Thinking Makes It So
I open my eyes, as prepared as anyone, I guess, to start my day, and my first thought is “I’m dead.”
I leap to this conclusion because my eyes take in no light and my nose and mouth take in no breath. It’s a fine thing that my second thought is to push my sleeping cat, Mr. Kitty, off my face. He objects, but is soon distracted by the gang of sparrows gathered in the ancient mountain ash outside the window of my trailer, my very much immobile mobile home.
The sunlight streams in on my once white, now taupe, cotton comforter. I squint my eyes until everything gets soft, and blurry, and looks like heaven; maybe comforters in heaven look like that.
I’m feeling good, in a not-fully-awake no-grasp-on-reality kind of way.
I think everyone wakes up like that. No matter what has been taken from you, or hurt, or damaged, there is a moment when you first wake up that you are perfect; as when God first thought you up, perfect.
I feel my bed move on the room side of me, which I have my back to. As I turn, to see what has caused this inexplicable shift in my positioning, I am struck above my left eye by an elbow, with such force that I see stars.
OK. Obviously, I wasn’t actually thinking when I thought I was dead just because Mr. Kitty sat on my face. I don’t think that could be called thinking, in the strictest sense of the word. No, this, coming up, is my first thought:
“Oh shit, I’m married.”
This thought occurs to me, in much the same way a nuclear explosion “occurs”. My brain has become my enemy, if it is indeed true that “I think, therefore I am…” Married.
The thought is physiologically akin to “Oh shit, I just witnessed a really bad car accident,” or, “Oh shit, a guy just jumped off the building across the street.”
I scramble out of bed, like Jackie Kennedy over the trunk of a convertible, and run until my back can be placed against a wall.
Dear Johnny – A Gen Ex Love Story Description:
It’s 1992 Ski Doo… A story of a life long love affair on a very very bad day. Fast paced and fun, a story of undying love quickly dying.
Quirky people of the world, CONGA and enjoy our heroine Franky Lane as she discovers where everything went wrong, and where everything goes right. An epic day really, a must read for all people even remotely alive in the 1990’s and for all people who wish they were.
Franky and Johnny were not sweethearts, his name is Ken. Johnny comes lately, and this book will keep you turning those pages to find out what this entire family is going to do about the problem.
Disclaimer: This is NOT a Romance Novel, it’s carnage! With much laughter I have to tell you, nope, this is not a love song, and it’s not Christian. And it’s not for the kids!
A multi media love story for gen x’rs and anybody that wonders what a gen x’r is. Set in the 1990’s it takes us back to a day when books were on paper and mail was too. You will remember getting love letters, and you might like remembering!
A remote view of sexism, with some dark comedy for flair, some flash backs to make you wish you had done acid instead. Follow Franky on her path to Johnny.
