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- Herausgeber: Bentockiz
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
The man pushed himself up out of the chair with his arms, stood a moment to wake his legs, then shuffled forward to the counter. He plugged in a fluorescent light that was mounted under the counter and the detailed designs and rich colors of the tins leapt out into the dim room.
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Title Page
Last Ditch Effort
Without Consolation
Angel Rupert
Last Ditch Effort / 5th of series: Without Consolation / By Angel Rupert
Published 2023 by Bentockiz
e-book Imprint: Uniochlors
e-book Registration: Stockholm, Sweden
e-book ISBN: 9789198847147
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
Zach woke with his head on Becca’s bare stomach. He heard the faint gurgle of life rising up from her intestines, and the deeper pulse of her heart resounding through her torso. He looked up and saw her face cushioned on the two pillows at the head of the bed. She had on one of his old shirts as a nightshirt, but it was fully unbuttoned and her breasts rose and fell with each gentle breath. He felt her cotton panties against his neck, and his arm extended down the full length of her left leg. His fingers brushed the arch of her foot. He knew that if he moved those fingers just a little bit, her body would respond instantly—first with a shiver, then with a semi-conscious giggle, then with lots of other good and welcome gifts to be discovered and explored. Before initiating this cycle of sharing, Zach found his watch with his free hand and checked the time.
It was 8:30 AM and their Russian Novels final was at 9.
Zach sat up quickly. He checked the alarm clock on the desk. The alarm was switched off. Had he forgotten to set it? They’d been studying together late last night (really, early this morning), first in the living room, then in bed. Then other needs had made themselves known, and been addressed. Had he forgotten to set the alarm? He couldn’t remember. Maybe he’d set it and turned it off without waking. It didn’t matter. It was now 8:32 and their test was at 9.
He reached up and shook Becca’s shoulder lightly.
She opened her eyes slowly then rolled her face into the pillows.
“Becca, it’s 8:30!” he said in a sharp whisper.
She sat up suddenly. “It’s what?”
Zach checked his watch. “8:33.”
Becca threw off the bedcovers and raced into the bathroom, Zach’s shirt flying out behind her like a cape.
When she emerged from the bathroom four minutes later, Zach was already fully dressed. He slipped into the bathroom and completed his essential hygiene and bodily functions. When he emerged, Becca was tying her shoes while sitting on his desk chair. Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail. She had on a flannel shirt and jeans. She didn’t have any make-up on, but she rarely wore make-up. She really looked quite lovely.
Zach walked over and knelt on the carpet beside her. “Sorry, Bec. I don’t know what happened with the alarm—if I didn’t turn it on, or if I turned it off without waking.”
She finished tying her shoes, sat back in the chair, and took a deep breath. Then she looked at him. “If I flunk, will you take the class again with me?”
Zach leaned forward and hugged her with all his strength. “I love you,” he said into her shirt. Then he stood. “Remember—Pushkin, Tatyana; Lermontov, Pechorin; Gogol, Chichikov.” He grabbed an unopened box of Girl Scout cookies as they passed through the kitchen on their way to the parking lot.
They slid almost silently into the classroom just as their Slavic Studies professor was starting to close the door. This bald, hawk-nosed Count of Stoicism and Understatement shook his head once and released the faintest of grins as the two of them flew past and took their seats.
After completing their exams (Zach finished first and waited in the lobby downstairs, Becca joined him about five minutes later), they walked across the Main Quad to the Shake Shoppe in the basement of the Student Union for a late breakfast, early lunch of chili dogs, fries, and chocolate milkshakes. It was the last day of finals, the last day of term prior to the long holiday break; and the campus was nearly empty. It was also the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year; and the gray skies, damp cold air, and cutting wind reminded them of this astronomical nadir as they scurried across the Quad and down the stone stairs and into the close warmth of the Shake Shoppe. They ordered their meals from Valera, one of the friendly and ageless keepers of this student emporium, then sat down with their food at a table along the wall, under a high narrow window that looked out on the Quad turf above and the gray sky beyond. They were the only customers in the Shoppe.
“How’d you do?” Zach asked.
Becca shrugged. “It’s done,” she said with an ironic chuckle.
“Yeah, it’s done. So what now?”
“For me? Home to a buffet dinner tonight then family commitments far out as this eye can see—past Christmas, anyway. It’s kind of hard for me to think about at the moment.”
“You’ll have fun once you’re there.”
“I’m sure. I love everything about Christmas. But it’ll be different this year.”
“How?”
“I’ll be missing you.”
Zach nodded. “We’ll survive.”
“I hope. I’m more worried about you. It doesn’t seem right to be alone over Christmas.”
“I won’t be alone the whole time. Larry and Celine have invited me for dinner tomorrow night; I’ll spend some time with Barton. It’ll be fine. I’m actually looking forward to the solitude.”
“Tell me again why you’re not going home to see your family?”
“I don’t know, Becca. It just doesn’t feel right. I haven’t been home at Christmas for three years. And now with the separation and all that’s going on, I just don’t want to deal with the questions. The spoken ones I could probably handle; it’s all the unspoken questions, the whispered comments and indulgent looks, that would drive me crazy.”
Becca laughed. “I know a little about those looks—the raised eyebrows, the pursed lips, and the knowing grins.” Becca seamlessly transformed her lovely youthful face into that of a judgmental old aunt, complete with cocked eyebrow, pinched lips, and indulgent grin.
Zach threw his arms up in surrender. “I’ve seen enough. No more, please.”
Becca smiled. “I guess I have a higher tolerance for that kind of stuff than you.”
“Or are at a different place in your life.”
“Maybe so, but it’s hard for me to see a time when I wouldn’t be with my family over Christmas if I were free to be there.”
Zach shrugged. “Maybe we are different in that way. So what about today?”
“I’ve got a few hours before I need to leave. I want to spend them with you.”
“Want to take me to the Driver’s License Bureau? I’ve got to get this provisional license made permanent.”
“Becca’s Taxi at your service.”
They finished their meals, discarded their paper plates, cups, and trays, and headed back up the stairs and out into whatever waning light this shortest day of the year had left to offer.
The Driver’s License Bureau was on the other side of town, a twenty-minute ride through inner-city streets with countless turns and confusing intersections. Becca said she knew the way, and in any case was far more familiar with the town than Zach; so he left the driving and navigation to her and closed his eyes and let his mind drift. It didn’t drift far.
