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- Herausgeber: Bentockiz
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
He got to the car ahead of her and opened the back door. She slid onto the plush leather seat in her jeans and sweater and leather jacket. He closed the door, jogged around to the driver’s door, nodded in apology to the trailing car, he couldn’t see if it was a man or a woman, jumped in the town-car and zoomed off like a taxi driver out for a big tip.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
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Title Page
Errors of Consciousness
Unjustified Changes
Angel Rupert
Errors of Consciousness / 2nd of series: Unjustified Changes / By Angel Rupert
Published 2023 by Bentockiz
e-book Imprint: Uniochlors
e-book Registration: Stockholm, Sweden
e-book ISBN: 9789198847017
e-book editing: Athens, Greece
Cover Images created via AI art generators
Table of Contents
Title Page
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Introduction
Through books we come into contact with everything important that has happened in the past, analyzing also current events and putting our thoughts together to predict the future. The book is a window to the world, acquiring valuable knowledge and sparking our vivid imagination. It is a means of entertainment and is generally seen as a best friend, or as a slave that carries together all valuable information for us. The book is a friend who stays together without demands, a friend you call upon at every moment and abandon when you want.
It accompanies us in the hours of boredom and loneliness, while at the same time it entertains us. In general, a book does not ask anything from us, while it waits patiently on a dusty shelf to give us its information, to get us out of dead ends and to travel us to magical worlds.
This may be the travel mission of our books. Abstract narration, weird or unconscious thoughts difficult to be understood, but always genuine and full of life experiences, these are stories of life that can’t be overlooked easily.
This may be the start of something amazing.
Chapter One
No sooner had Zach poured himself a mug of beer from the pitcher in the middle of the four tables pushed together with people—some seated, some standing—crowded all around and nibbling on nachos and popcorn and sipping on their drinks, then a tall and lanky guy with pale skin set off by his raven black hair tapped him on the shoulder and gestured with a tilt of his head toward a wall of games on the far side of the bar. “You got to check out this machine,” he said and turned and walked away without looking back.
Zach glanced at Allison on the far side of the table sipping a White Russian and talking with a buxom blonde girl in a beige sweater.
Allison smiled back at him and made a shooing gesture in the direction of the departed dark-haired guy.
Zach shrugged, grabbed his mug of beer, and waded through the milling crowd in pursuit of the dark hair he could see bobbing above the heads through the thick cigarette smoke.
He caught up with the guy where he was standing behind a beautiful woman with crimped blonde hair and dressed in a sheer white smock top and extremely tight jeans who was in the middle of playing a pinball game. She twitched her butt and hips in sporadic spasms, bumped the game table with her thighs, and swayed her torso from side to side in an attempt to persuade the shiny silver ball to go where she desired for it to go. She made occasional grunting noises interspersed with low moans that blended with the pinball machine’s clicking and dinging as she accumulated points and extra balls on the scoreboard at the head of the table.
The dark haired guy slid a cigarette out of the pack in his shirt pocket and lit it with a lighter while he waited his turn on the machine. He watched the woman’s contorted motions nonchalantly then glanced sideways at Zach with a sly smile.
Zach stood to one side, his back within inches of a standing couple in the midst of a heated argument. He hoped he didn’t get wet if the woman threw her drink at the man. But soon he forgot about their argument and became mesmerized by the energy and light and noise and motion of his surroundings, a sensory overload that gradually came to be focused on the twitching hips and shapely thighs squeezed into those tight jeans.
The woman cursed, slapped her hand on the machine’s glass top, and strode off in a huff without looking at either of the men waiting behind her.
The dark haired guy’s eyes followed her till she disappeared into the crowd, then he looked at Zach. “I’m single; I can look. You’re married; you ain’t supposed to look.”
Zach shrugged. “Just checking out the game.”
“Sure—you and me both.” He slid into the player’s spot vacated by the woman and dropped a quarter into the slot. As the first ball dropped onto the queue, he turned to Zach. “I’m Ian McCarthy.” He hung the cigarette on his lips and extended his hand.
Zach shook that hand. “Zach Sandstrom.”
Ian laughed. “Yeah—I know. Allison won’t shut up about you.”
Zach looked perplexed. “News to me.”
Ian didn’t hear. His attention was on the game as he put the first ball in play.
Zach stood to one side and gazed across the crowded bar. The game tables were against the wall between the long wooden bar and the entry foyer. There was an open space that ran the length of the room, from the entry to the bathrooms and kitchen at the far end, a space currently filled with standing patrons. Beyond this open area, along the wall opposite the bar, were tables tended by waitresses where you could sit to eat or drink. Allison and about a dozen of her co-workers were gathered around four of these tables that they’d pushed together and covered with a mix of appetizers and beverages. Zach could make out where those tables were in the far corner but couldn’t see Allison from where he stood.
He turned back to Ian. “Holy shit,” he said. Ian already had over fifty thousand points and two balls to go. The woman had washed out under thirty.
Ian shrugged without taking his eyes off the board. “Nowhere near my record.” He shifted subtly from side to side, bumped the table very judiciously, and offered up none of the sound effects or gyrations that had defined the woman’s game.
“Which is?”
“Somewhere north of a hundred grand—and I’m not even on the leader board.”
“Still, not bad.”
Ian paused before putting his last ball in play, took the cigarette out of his mouth, and faced Zach. “Lots of practice,” he said with a wink and a charming smile.
Zach wondered right then if he should be jealous of his wife working for this man, but he said, “But I liked the moves of the player before you.”
Ian laughed. “All splash, no finesse.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong. Splash has its place—just not at the pinball table.”
He got no argument from Zach.
