My dearest Hope ~ How you continue to invade my thoughts in the stillness of the morning’s early hours; I awaken and for a moment I believe the dream to be true, the feel of your smooth yielding body next to mine, the tenderness of your kiss on my lips but when I reach out my arms, you are not there and a tear slowly emerges from the corner of my eye. 

Somehow I manage to get through the disorder that is my life but without you I am not truly alive – I merely exist; you asked so little of me and brought unimaginable joy to my lonely world for you were my princess and I took great pleasure dressing you in satin and lace, your shining blue eyes sparkling with excitement whenever I brought home a gift for you and you delighted in each present, whether a bottle of perfume or a book of poems which I would read to you every night. 

Yet, in all honesty, those steamy sensual sex games we played are what I miss the most for you were insatiable, your beautiful mouth smiling with desire, your lithe body as malleable and compliant as the branches of a willow tree; we fit together perfectly and those intimate times we shared together in our bed are etched in my mind forever. 

Leaving you in the morning to go to work was torture, especially that one morning when you looked so beautiful as you slept that I didn’t have the heart to wake you so instead I placed a single rose on your breast for you to discover when you awoke and I quietly closed the door behind me leaving you alone, my darling, to dream – a concept I no longer remember as dreadful nightmares constantly invade my sleep leaving me bereft; only the knowledge that you’d be there waiting for me when I returned was what got me through the day and I’d race home to see you, to embrace you, but that all ended one year ago when I found you lifeless on our bed.

Today I walked to the park and I when I remembered it was our anniversary, all the air left my body like a burst bubble leaving me feeling hollow inside; the children in the park were playing with kites and balloons, laughing with glee as the wind lifted their playthings higher and higher when suddenly one of the little girls cried out in dismay as the string escaped her hand and her balloon slowly floated out of sight, leaving the poor child inconsolable and I thought of you, calling for you to come back to me; that’s when I realized I had two choices: continue living the life of a lonely, broken man or to find someone to share my life – that, my darling Hope, is when I chose the latter for I truly believe you would want me to find happiness again, to fill this void in my wretched life. 

I slowly walked home, retrieved my mail and sat on the couch, dejected, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed the tip of a familiar publication – could it be possible on our anniversary – yes, it was the Johnson Premium Dolls catalog with a large banner advertising 40% off discontinued blow up sex dolls, so with trembling fingers I flipped through the pages until I found another you, my dearest Hope; overcome with joy, I placed my order immediately and tomorrow I will insert this letter into a balloon, inflate it and release it to reach you in heaven as a reminder to myself to never again buy you roses with piercing thorns ~ My love forever, Lawrence. 

NAR © 2023

42 thoughts on “COME FLY WITH ME”

    1. Maybe so; I think they’re pretty popular just about anywhere. We had a very strange individual living across from us a number of years ago who got all kinds of stuff like that delivered fairly often (our mailman would give us all the details!) I didn’t need to know; once that image was in my head, it wasn’t going anywhere! Glad you enjoyed the little love letter, Michele! 🎈

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    1. I am so glad I amuse you! Maybe I should take my act on the road! 😂 I had so much fun with this one and I savored the thought of the Sicilian Curveball at the end. And who better to sing and swing with than my paisano, Old Blue Eyes? Thanks for your great comments. They really made me smile today! 🥳

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      1. Hahahah yes!!!
        Please do!
        Maybe your next calling is coming lol I could tell you had a blast. Oh yes, nothing better. I’m glad you got a smile. Thanks for giving one to us. ❤️💕❤️


    1. Excellent! Not the choking part, that’s not good, but the fact that I ‘gotcha’ at the end. I love to do that! Another friend called my surprise endings the Sicilian Curveball. That made me laugh. Thanks so much, Keith! Glad you enjoyed my love letter. 🎈

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  1. (In synchronicity with Mister Bump, I was listening to Slash’s rendition of the theme from Love Story, called Where Do I Begin?)

    Where do I begin indeed, Nancy?
    From roses and their thorns to ” as malleable and compliant as the branches of a willow tree”!
    Dark humor travelling with red balloons sky high!🎈

    Cara mia, that was one helluva signature curve ball! (and I learned a new word, zinger! Thanks John!)

    {Yet, as it is the truth with every story, I see a subtle, hidden core underneath; one that sings the loneliness, the allienation…intended or not, it doesn’t matter; that is the magic of stories and their tellers!}

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    1. (Isn’t that an incredible recording by Slash? When I first heard it last year I thought it was Yngwie Malmsteen. I think my radio actually started sizzling and I know I saw smoke. What a piece; that would have been perfect background music for my story! Thanks for the reminder; it will come in handy one day soon 😉)

      Thank you for your wonderful comments, Nick. Yeah, “Zinger”; I wonder if it is derived from the Italian “zingarella” which means ‘witch’. Just a thought!

      Perhaps I should look into getting a patent for the Sicilian Curveball? I love it! Whenever I can (which is fairly often), I enjoy sliding one in, even in my more serious stories. That element of surprise or the door left ajar is great fun for me.

      {Excellent point you make about the subtle underlying loneliness and alienation; when they do appear in my stories, it is a reflection of the characters and not the author. I was beginning to think perhaps this one was too subtle but now I think it was not!}

      Mille grazie, amico mio! 🎈

      Liked by 1 person

      1. The Sicilian Curveball° Do it, Nancy…it’s perfect! I can see the variety of merchandise with it😁

        《”Zinger” is one of many political words originating in the sports world. The Online Etymology Dictionary says that in 1957, it was baseball slang for a pitcher’s fastball that caught unsuspecting hitters off guard. But by 1970, as political discourse became less civil and more confrontational, it turned into a catchy synonym for a barbed quip.》

         Di niente cara mia, figurati!


    1. Hahaha!! That was a perfect opening line, John! That’s part of the fun of being a storyteller; we’re in total control of the zingers. I had such a hoot writing this one and now even more of a hoot knowing you were trying to figure out the ending. Thanks for that great acknowledgement; it might be one of the nicest compliments I’ve gotten since I started writing! ZING!! 💫

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Oh, Len! This couldn’t have been any more tongue in cheek if I had written it while sitting in the dentist’s chair! I am delighted that you really, really laughed while reading this; I was beginning to think my sense of humor was too subtle. You have alleviated my fears so an alternative serious comment will definitely not be necessary. Thank you for your hilarious and much-appreciated comments. 👅


    1. Thank you, Grace! It’s amazing how much love Lawrence had for his dream girl, Hope. It just goes to show you that a relationship between two totally different personalities – in this case a man and his blow up doll – can be so passionate. Ah, love! It’s a wonderful thing, no matter what form it takes. Thanks for your beautiful comment, Grace! 💕

      Liked by 1 person

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