Friday, December 19, 2008

Every Story has an Author:



S
story.~ INTRODUCTION :
So what comes after "Paradise”?


For Paula, the "after"-time meant a owning-up, a redemptive moment, in which to give voice to her experience. She does this, by writing a letter to her daughter (Jennifer Parkstone), who was conceived on the very night Paula fell into the mud-bath-pool, and in turn, gave herself a
spanking, right there, in the backyard in front of Mrs. Murphy and her husband, Pete.

It is, in this authors opinion, a sweet letter; a letter, which captures not only the significance of her actions and the consequences to follow, but also, in it’s personal nature, speaks to a
Generation of people ~~ young, bold, and rebellious ~ ~ who dared to chart a course “different,” from the one which proceeded it: The 1960’s and early 70’s are brought into play with a self-serving tinge; however, the morality of the tale cannot be minimized.

When Paula wrote this letter, she had planned upon holding onto it, along with the 6 Part personal essay, [“In Her Own Words.”] She wanted, very much, for Jennifer to read them one day. Knowing the reality of small town life, Paula knew one day her escapades in the backyard would reach the ears of her impressionable, young, daughter.


Between the kid across the street, Mr. Carpenter’s glossy photos in Gallery Magazine’s “Girl Next Store,” Mrs. Carpenter’s Son, (who got caught doing his exercise’s, while stark naked, by Mrs. Carpenter [his Mother], only two days after Paula’s fall into the mud!


[Ron Carpenter, on the evening of his own comeuppance, was doing his deep-knee-bends, once again. (It’s to be noted, Paula’s speculation
concerning Ron’s motives were completely on the money: The young man, was very much aware of his window shade, and the visible exposure he was presenting to the “girl next-store.”) So stirred was he by Paula’s abrupt scamper down the basement stairs, as exposed as he the previous night, Ron felt a bit of reciprocation was in order.

Of course, being as thoughtless in his stirrings as Paula was, only made him more forgetful of his exhibitionism and the very real consequences he was bound to meet.


It only took the opening of a door:



The door he had completely forgotten to lock, hasty in getting undressed, just as night fell; knowing Mrs. Parkstone was in her bedroom, watching.. waiting. Looking across, to the Parkstone house, he could see the bedroom light turn off. Ron got up from his bed and pulled off his tee-shirt and pulled off his sweat pants. He was bare-foot, and not wearing any boxers, so within seconds, his clothes were dumped next to the bed; and, in all his glory, his muscles were rippling with pride.. Nothing like a tight, six-pack, and an even tighter pair of buttocks, he thought, turning himself around, as he stretched...


...When Mrs. Carpenter opened his bedroom door, and walked in, Ron was just getting into his deep-knee-bends. His ass was facing the window, and he was just rising from a crouch.
“Oh, my Lord!.. Ronald Carpenter, what do you think you’re doing!

He was so oblivious to her entering. He didn't even hear her scream out. He was slowly rising onto his feet, standing up, with his bare ass out-thrust. Mrs. Carpenter had no trouble seeing what her son was up to..
“Cover yourself, now,” she yelled, staring at his exposed penis.. fully erect. “You should be ashamed, Ron.

Even though, Ron was in college and an adult, Mrs. Carpenter still took him by the ear, and gave his sweated-up bottom, five, good, hard smacks, before pulling down the shade.


But, that’s another story.]
**

This introduction must inevitably lead back to Paula Parkstone, and the letter she wrote for Jenny.


The Carpenter’s moved out of their house in 1972. Mrs. Murphy, who was a dear Irish neighbor, died in her sleep in 1972, and was a big help to Paula after Jenny’s birth.


As the kid across the street, I had a pretty good view of Paula Parkstone on that hot, Summer, night.


Jennifer (at, 16) passed this letter off to her best friend.. Who then passed it on to me~~ kid’s stuff, really. But hey, that’s another story too! (gotta love Ditto Machines!:)



Every story has to have an author. This one, at least, has someone to introduce it. Onward, with: “The Letter to Jenny” ~x~SinfullyAnon.

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