Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Despair, a Dark Testament of the Soul

Perry Block stumbled out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. 

Everything was getting so out of hand, he thought!

After grabbing his slippers and robe to put them on to head into the bathroom, everything was now out of Perry’s hands.  And on his person.

It was exactly 6:00 A.M Thursday morning.  Lingering for a moment in the bathroom, Perry paused to take a long hard look in the mirror.

He didn't like what he saw! 

There was a smudge on the mirror's lower left-hand corner.  He took a towel and wiped it off.

Perry sat on the corner of the bed and thought of Angelique.  He knew she would soon be bidding him "goodbye" and "farewell."

Perry had told her he found her habit of saying "adios" extremely annoying, and she'd promised from now on she'd always say either "farewell" or "goodbye" instead.

True, Angelique wasn't pretty. 

She was gorgeous. 

And yes, the two of them had gone through some serious sexual problems together.  But now that Angelique had gotten used to having fantastic sex with Perry 6 or 7 times a night, those problems had faded away.

Perry's professional's life had lately been fraught with emotional strifegut-wrenching conflict, and a horrific major disaster!

As a top Hollywood producer, Perry’s pictures covered a wide range of genres, all of which earned him millions of dollars.  In the last year he had concentrated on serious drama, and his disaster movie, Pee Wee's Big Poseidon Adventure, had been especially profitable.

The phone rang.  Perry picked up the receiver.

"Perry Block?"

"Yes, that's me."

"This is Death."

Anguish.  Despondency.  Hopelessness.

"Perry," whimpered Death, "I am in anguish!  BTW, I'm despondent and hopeless too."

"Why's that, Death?"

"Because you've beaten me! You'll never die!"  

"You've got to get a hold of yourself, Death!" said Perry. "It isn't as if somebody didn't die.  Except me."

"Perry, would you - kind of - take me under your wing?"

Perry penciled Death in for a half hour appointment a week from Friday, right before he was scheduled to go snorkeling with Scarlett Johansson, and hung up.

On the other end of the phone, Death felt reassured that he'd soon be seeing Perry Block.

At long last his bitter despair - the dark testament of his soul - began to lift.


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