To Live Again In Paradise - Segment 03

Chapter 11

Auspasia, Home of the Goddesses

As soon as he saw Ox roll off Lara, Timothy rushed forward to take his turn. More than anything, the boy wanted to show Daniel how much better than Ox he was at humping the pretty whore. In his frantic hurry to get to and into her, he stumbled over a small rock and fell to the ground flat on his face.

Lara began laughing while she watched Timothy struggling to his feet after his embarrassing pratfall. The goddess didn’t realize, or even care, that human males have a tender ego. Some men like Timothy even turn mean when females laugh at them.

His constant surliness, quick to explode into violence, was notorious throughout the confederate camp, and the other soldiers quickly learned not to say or do anything to provoke the teenager to anger. On this day and in this deserted section of the forest, Lara’s laughter was enough to spark Timothy’s hair-trigger temper.

Her laughter had awakened Ox, and he quickly got up and out of the way when he saw Timothy’s red face. “Ya gonna get it now, missy,” he warned, a big delighted grin on his face. Many times over the past year, Ox applauded from the sidelines while watching Timothy beat up men often twice his size. Sometimes this happened simply because Timothy felt the man looked at him in the wrong way or said something that he considered offensive.

Lara ignored Ox’s comment since she didn’t understand what it meant. Instead, she lazily continued to lie on the ground and waited for Timothy. To encourage him to get going, she again moved her legs apart so he would realize she was ready for him. “Come on, boy,” she called out, “show me if you’re as good as your friend here was.”

“Bitch, you’ll never forget how much better I am,” snarled Timothy, while pulling open the front flap of his army-issued pants. Hoping that Daniel was watching him, Timothy slowly swaggered toward Lara. As he walked, he removed the dingy shirt of his uniform and tossed it on the ground. When he finally stood between her legs, he pushed his dirty trousers down until they hung below his exposed buttocks.

He then started his vicious assault on the unsuspecting woman. First, he used his heavy boot to kick her legs farther apart. When satisfied he had enough room, Timothy knelt down on the ground just above her knees. “Keep your legs like that until I tell you not to,” he ordered. At the same time, he used his fingernails to dig deeply into both of her thighs. As he knew would happen, Timothy’s dirt-crusted nails broke her tender skin in multiple places.

Timothy stopped to admire the trickles of blood running down to stain Lara’s pale flesh. Satisfied with the results, he removed his fingernails from her thighs. “You feel that, whore? You like that? Well, I’m just getting’ started.” He taunted her with more threats. “That little pain’s nothin’ at all ‘cause I got even betta ways to learn you not to laugh at me.”

Timothy continued to kneel on the ground with his trousers bunched down around his bent knees. After giving Lara enough time to admire his dangling penis, Timothy wrapped one grubby hand around it. “Ox ain’t nothin’. Wait and see what I got for ya.” His words came out in spurts since he was busy rubbing his hand up and down his penis in an attempt to get an erection. Timothy moved his hand even harder when he suddenly remembered Daniel. Looking at what his strenuous massage accomplished, he thought, I hope Daniel’s watchin’ how big I got.

* * *

On his twelfth birthday, Daniel began plowing his way through most of the female slaves his father’s large plantation. The first unwilling woman was a birthday present from his father. Giving her no choice, the outraged owner of the weeping 15-year-old forced her to lie nude on her cot until Daniel managed to lose his virginity. The excited youngster was able to do this only after his father instructed the girl’s equally young, new husband to demonstrate the sex act. Since that memorable day, Daniel had learned to use much more than that one missionary position.

The lack of effort it took for him to get any female slave on her back soon filled him with ennui. In time, the virginal teenage girls living on neighboring plantations also became easy prey for Daniel, who had grown into a handsome, yet extremely effete man.

When Daniel joined the confederate army as an officer, he quickly discovered the mostly uneducated men often felt no need for a woman to release their sexual frustration. So far, because of his need always to have control of a situation, he held back on putting into practice what he only voyeuristically watched from a distance.

Daniel was definitely watching Timothy now and enjoying what he saw. Unobserved as he leaned against a nearby oak tree, he couldn’t take his eyes off the boy’s naked ass since Timothy was facing away from him. Daniel sucked in his breath in appreciation at the sight of the two rounded curves and took a tentative step away from the tree. He moved more to the side so he could see what Timothy would do next.

Timothy failed to see him coming closer since he was intent on continuing his punishment of the whore for laughing at him. With what he considered a sufficiently enlarged penis, he positioning himself over Lara. After that, Timothy first leaned over on his elbow and ran his fingers through her thick, raven-colored muff. The hair was still damp from where Ox’s plentiful semen dripped on it when he pulled out before he’d finished ejaculating inside Lara.

“Now ya goin’ to see what a real man feels like,” growled Timothy, his low voice filled with menacing promise. He used his fingers to guide the tip and first inch of his penis into her wet, waiting slit. After he slipped out for the third time, Timothy got so frustrated at his repeated failure that tears of frustration filled his eyes.

“Is that the best you can do?” complained Lara, an annoyed tone creeping into her voice. She decided to taunt him further when she noticed his brimming eyes. “Oh, the real man’s going to cry.”

“I’d be quiet if I were you.” This whispered warning came from Daniel. During Timothy’s aborted attempts to attack Lara, the older man silently crept closer to them and now squatted next to her head.

Nearby from where he was watching, Ox heard Daniel’s comment and nodded his shaggy head in agreement. “Ya askin’ for it, missy. Timothy’s plain loco when riled.”

Moving off Lara to kneel upright, Timothy decided he would try one last time to pull off raping Lara. He glared at her and began to work on his penis, which again was floppy and limp. If I can’t get it up this time, at least I can have the fun of beating up the bitch. The glare left his face at this thought. A large grin took its place at coming up with this alternative way of punishing her. Suddenly, he felt someone other than Lara touching him.

Chapter 12

Luzon, Home of the Old Ones

The elderly servants soon fell into new routines. Without the gods and concubines to serve and pamper, these women began to revel in their newfound independence. For one week, they even thought nobody would be giving them any more orders, and that they could do whatever they wanted to do.

Izzy squashed these fleeting thoughts of freedom early on the morning of the second week without their masters. Standing in the middle of the seraglio’s large common room, she began ringing a large bell. The loud clanging of what resembled a cowbell brought dozens of old women scurrying from every level of the big building.

When Izzy considered there were enough of them congregated in the room to pass on her message to those still not there, she got their attention by holding up two long pieces of paper. “Attention, everyone. I’ve got a couple lists of what chores we need to do regularly on a daily or weekly basis, and who will do them. I expect everyone to cooperate without any grumbling.”

She looked around the room in disgust. The hardwood floor looked filthy, something that would never have happened before the abandonment. That term was what the females now simply called the day their masters left them to fend for themselves.

Some women soon decided to leave their dingy quarters in the lower level and move up a floor into the larger and better-furnished bedrooms of the concubines. They also began taking their meals in the common room. A few of the sloppier or lazier ones left behind dishes containing spoiling bits of uneaten food

Fed up with the mess, Izzy started thinking of ways to get the old routines back on track. After much thought, she devised a list of daily chores. She also put together on a separate piece of paper a rotating roster of who would do what. Using these two forms, no individual female would permanently have to do the more onerous tasks like cleaning bathrooms. On the other hand, the more pleasant jobs, helping the lead cook prepare and serve the meals, would not go all the time to the same women.

Izzy continued with her instructions, ignoring the whispers among the gathered crowd. “I am going to post these two lists on the main door leading down to the bottom level. In this way, those of you still living there and the others who now have rooms on this floor should read these rosters without any trouble at all.”

She stopped and looked sternly around the room, making sure to catch the eyes of the ones she knew to be the laziest. “More importantly, every one of you will know at all times what your particular chore is. I will expect you all to do the work again without any grumbling, needless discussion, hesitation, or kvetching with each other. Is that clearly understood?”

When the autocratic old woman knew once again she had everyone’s complete attention, Izzy spotted Cecelia standing at the back of the crowd and motioned her to come closer. “I’ve already decided you’ll be our permanent liaison with the satyrs and sileni from the village where Dionysus used to live. I was glad to hear the villagers have continued to make that delicious wine even after he left, and are willing to keep delivering it to us.”

Cecelia nodded, accepting this assignment without argument. “Izzy, I have no problem with the satyrs, but I’ll have to closely monitor those sileni periodically. I want to make sure they don’t drink all the wine before we get any.” She only recently had returned from visiting there and regretfully also found the satyrs’ village filled with drunken sileni. These woodland spirits were still worshipping, much too well, the departed god of wine.

Izzy clearly understood her warning and agreed. “I think every three months should be enough to check on them. I mean, Cecelia, how much potent wine can a couple dozen of them drink during that time?”

“Those degenerated, inebriated sots? I think I should go more often. You’d be surprised how fast I saw them going through the latest wine on my last visit.” Cecelia grimaced at remembering the sloppiness of the drunken group of males. She was walking down the road toward one of the satyr’s homes to talk with him when she spotted a large number of the selini. They were laughing and cheering on the oldest in the group.

Curious where they were heading in such a festive mood, Cecelia stopped to watch them go inside one of the large building at the end of the village. These were where the selini stored the barrels until the felt the wine inside them had properly aged. She called out, “Where are you going?” When they completely ignored her, Cecelia silently followed them inside and watched the oldest selini start the revelry by tapping the barrel. After each male had his large mug filled, the unrestrained merriment began.

“For the five hours I stayed at the village, Izzy, they actually emptied two large wine barrels. From what I could see from the distance where I stood, one barrel contained red wine and the other white.

“They were drinking so fast trying to see who could win in some type of insane race. Because of that, they failed to get all of the immature wine into their mouths. It was disgusting to watch because quite a bit of the liquid dripped down on their clothes.”

After hearing that, Izzy thought for a couple minutes before telling Cecelia, “I agree. If you can handle that long walk, I would like you to check on the wine inventory once a month. When you report back, I’ll decide if we need to do something about their excessive drinking or not.”

Before Cecelia returned from that first visit, many of the women worried whether or not any of the males related to the various greater gods remained after the abandonment. Finding both the sileni and satyrs alive and well gave hope to the elderly women that they could survive on Luzon after all.

Chapter 13

New Earth, Home of the Golden Ones

The day after the thunderstorm, Vulcan decided he was ready to see more of New Earth. Almost everything on this planet was new to this man who was once a powerful god. He constantly found wonder in what Melody always had taken for granted.

Disgustingly cheerful in the morning, as usual, he practically bounced out of bed just as the early morning sun began to come through the large window. While heading across the luxuriously soft carpet toward their suite’s large walk-in closet to get his clothes, Vulcan called out, “Get up, lazybones. You promised you’d show me the Golden Gate Bridge today.”

Once inside the closet, he quickly made his choice from the large variety of new clothes. He and Melody recently brought these back from some of the high-end Union Square department stores. Vulcan still was unfamiliar with human clothing since he only had worn a brief loincloth first on Mount Olympus and then on Luzon. He struggled into a pair of tight dungarees that fit his lean body like a second skin. After he picked out a dark blue, short sleeve shirt from the closet, he finally leaned down to snag a pair of sneakers from the shoe rack.

It only took a couple minutes to choose these clothes, and Vulcan left the closet wearing only the dungarees. He waited until he was back sitting on the edge of the bed to put on the shirt and slip his bare feet into the sneakers. Once he felt dressed for that day’s outing, he began whistling loudly and rather off tune.

Melody was a bit irritated with Vulcan for waking her up at such an early hour. She really wanted to sleep in and have him serve her breakfast in bed. Some mornings, Vulcan would first make his way down to the fully stocked kitchen of the Sir Francis Drake Hotel and put together a large meal for his wife. Unfortunately, he was not a good cook. Melody loved her common-law husband, however, and did appreciate his efforts. For that reason, she always managed to get down the runny eggs, burned toast, and bitter coffee.

When she heard his cheerful whistling, Melody knew she had lost the battle to stay in bed and get more sleep. She rolled to the opposite side of the bed from where Vulcan continued to sit. After that, she reluctantly got out of bed, totally naked, still sleepy, and extremely grumpy. She continued to express her unhappiness, even as she walked over to one of the suite’s two bureaus where she kept some of her clothing. While slowly removing fresh underwear from the top drawer, she gave Vulcan one last complaining order. “I’m hungry, and I’m not going anywhere until you get me at least some coffee.”

Vulcan ignored her usual morning peevishness and sat there admiring her slender body instead. When he saw Melody step into a lacy pair of pink panties, he shifted around on the edge of the bed when the crotch on his tight dungarees began getting a bit uncomfortable. By the time Melody found the bra she wanted and snapped it on, Vulcan had closed his eyes, in pain from the involuntary erection he always got while watching his wife getting dressed.

“You know, sweetheart,” Vulcan commented, “that bridge will still be there a couple hours from now.”

When Melody turned around to see what he meant, he patted the bed beside where he sat and gave her such a wicked leer she burst out laughing. “Oh no, I don’t think so, mister. You made me get up at this ridiculous hour, and I intend to stay up. Now, by the time I finish dressing, you better have some hot coffee waiting for me. Scoot!”

She motioned toward a grouping of a table and two chairs located on one side of the wide window. The suite’s Mr. Coffee machine had quickly turned into being the most popular item in the suite. Once Melody showed Vulcan to make coffee, he took over this early morning chore. Well, it was the second most popular item as he and Melody spent and inordinate amount of time in the large bed. When not sleeping, they spent long, lazy afternoons making love.

Half an hour later, fully fortified with two cups of steaming hot and delicious French roast coffee, Melody led the way out of the suite and down the elevator to the ground floor. Like with the ready supply of food every place they took their meals, Melody never inquired about the continued existence of electricity or any of the other utilities like running water. During the years she lived on Earth, she always took many comforts of daily living for granted.

That had not changed once they came to New Earth. Melody gave no thought to why it still worked when she flipped on a light switch or turned on faucets to run water for a bath. It just happened as it had all her life. Vulcan sometimes wondered how long it would be before she began asking questions about this, but he hoped it would not be on this crisp, cool San Francisco morning. He wanted to see the bridge without any interfering complications.

* * *

Two hours later, Melody was completely awake with her hunger satisfied by a delicious and filling breakfast she insisted on making. As she drove the Yaris through the city’s empty streets toward the Golden Gate Bridge, she tried to answer all of Vulcan’s questions about the structure.

“I don’t remember too much about when the men actually built it,” she first told him, “but we can search out this information at the library later on, if you really need to know.”

Vulcan shook his head. “No, that’s not what I’m curious about. Did they really make the Golden Bridge of gold? Was it similar to the way we created New Earth’s children? How did they manage that without gods like me to help them?” One after another in quick succession, Vulcan asked these innocent questions. He then sat quietly in the car waiting for Melody to answer him. It took a few minutes since his basic lack of education about the human race once again amazed her. .

After gathering her thoughts, she attempted to explain about the bridge as simply as possible so Vulcan would understand. “The bridge isn’t made of gold. It got that name since when they built it, people considered it long gateway between the Pacific Ocean and San Francisco Bay. At least I think that was why, but we can also check this out at a library. Oh, the color really isn’t gold at all. It’s kind of orange, but it does look golden sometimes when the sunshine hits it just right. You’ll understand when we get there.”

Chapter 14

Auspasia, Home of the Goddesses

Unseen, Daniel had moved down to sit beside one of Lara’s outstretched legs. When comfortable and in the correct position, he leaned over her leg to where Timothy knelt. Unable any longer to resist being only a couple inches away from him, Daniel brushed his fingers softly against the naked skin on Timothy’s ass.

Seeing the surprise on the boy’s face, Daniel smiled and tried to reassure him by saying, “I’m here to help if you need me. Will it bother you to if I touch your…?” Leaving unsaid what he wanted to touch, he ever so slowly moved his hand around and then down toward Timothy’s crotch until he reached the mat of unwashed hair.

Timothy felt overwhelmed by this honor from the man until now he’d only dared to worship from a distance. Raping Lara no longer seemed important, and he immediately forgot her. Timothy lifted his hand away from his privates to give Daniel more room.

In a voice too low for Ox to hear, he told Daniel, “No bother at all, sir, and thank you. I’d kindly be obliged for ya help.”

Pleased with that innocent comment, Daniel wrapped his long fingers around Timothy’s still soft shaft. As soon as he attempted to give the teenager an erection, Daniel felt himself getting hard. “Oh, jeez, you feel so good,” he got out, before groaning from the increasing pressure between his own legs.

As the intense pleasure of what he felt washed through his body in wave after ware, Daniel realized he was about to spill his seed and soil his uniform. He immediately tightened the grip of his fingers and began moving his hand up and down the slowly growing erection. Faster, harder, and tighter went his hand until he felt his whole world centered on this one frantic action.

Lara, when the three confederate soldiers continued to ignore her, decided to remain on the ground until one of them noticed her. She eventually rose up to lean on her elbows. In this position, she was able to get a better look at what Daniel was doing with Timothy. As it was obvious the two of them clearly were enjoying themselves, Lara realized her only chance at the time for more sex would be with Ox.

Seeing him standing a short distance away, she decided to give up on any further action from either Timothy or anything at all from Daniel. “Are you ready for more, Ox,” she called out, “or are you too tired?” She couldn’t help smiling when Ox almost tripped over his big feet in his haste to reach her.

“I ain’t tired, missy, but I can’t get to ya with them in the way.” Ox pointed toward where Timothy was still kneeling between Lara’s spread thighs. Seconds earlier, after realizing he couldn’t wait any longer, Daniel reluctantly removed his hands from Timothy’s reasonably stiff shaft. Leaving his long legs stretched out on the ground, Daniel adjusted his body to lie across Lara’s flat belly. He now faced toward where Timothy waited to see what he would do next.

Lara didn’t want to interrupt what Daniel began doing to Timothy, even though Daniel’s heavy body pressing down on her stomach made breathing difficult. “Ox, you can pleasure yourself in another way.” When Ox sat down beside her, Lara leaned on one elbow for balance. She then used her free other hand to begin undoing the ribbon laces that went from the dress’s low neckline part way down to her waist.

Ox understood what she was doing, and he forced Lara backwards onto the ground. His fingers attacked the remaining lacing, ripping the attached dress material in the process. After pushing the loosened bodice apart, Ox shoved a large hand inside and grabbed Lara’s breast nearest to him. “Ya got a nice big tit, missy. Most whores got little, wrinkly ones, but I bet I can’t get all of ya in my mouth.” Ox leaned down, parted his lips wide apart, and proved his theory was wrong. Much to Lara’s delight, he began greedily sucking until drool dribbled from his mouth. Only Timothy’s horrified voice from behind stopped him and got their attention.

“Sir, sir,” yelled Timothy, in a frantic attempt to get Daniel’s attention. “Look over yonder. Blue bellies!” Seeing the enemy pouring out of the trees in front of him, he started screaming in terror while struggling to pull out of Daniel’s mouth. A shot rang out, and Timothy fell forward on top of Lara. . He died dying instantly from a perfectly aimed bullet through his heart.

Daniel scrambled to get to his knees and away from Timothy’s bleeding corpse. Horrified at the sight of the advancing group of union soldiers, he reached for his gun, but never got it out of the holster. He fell on top of Timothy, dead from the shot to his forehead.

No longer interested in Lara’s succulent-appearing breast, Ox began pleading for his life. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” He remained on his knees and waved his arms up in the air. “I ain’t got a gun so don’t kill me.”

Disgusted by the cowardly man, the union lieutenant, a Bostonian named Robert Johnson, motioned one of the blue-clad soldiers forward. “Get him on his feet and tie his hands behind him.” When the young man hurried to follow this curt order, the officer explained to the rest of his squad, “We can take this sniveling fool back to camp and let them figure out what to do with him.”

The officer then went closer to where the blood oozing out of the two dead confederate soldiers was already attracting flies. He shook his head in disgust remembering what he saw Daniel doing to the teenager as the squad of union soldiers entered the clearing. A religious man and deacon in his church, Lieutenant Johnson was the one whose bullet found it way into Daniel’s brain.

“Lieutenant, I have a question.” Johnson recognized the voice of Private Hennessy. “Why ain’t there a woman somewhere in that pile?” The young man came closer. “I swear I saw that prisoner chewing on one of the pretty dark-haired lady’s teats. Couldn’t tell, though, if the three of them rebel bastards were pestering a whore or lady.”

Lieutenant Johnson looked more closely at the two bodies since he also thought he’d seen a woman. “You must have been wrong, Private. You can clearly see there’s no female here. Now, stop wasting my time with dumb question and dig a hole for those two stiffs. I want to be back at camp by nightfall.”

* * *

Back on Auspasia, Lara was already sitting in her clean kitchen sipping a hot mug of tea. When she felt Timothy crumbled down onto her body, she immediately vanished from underneath him. In one heartbeat, she was home and had one last thought before putting the memory of the last few hours out of her mind for the time being.

My first adventure on Earth wasn’t quite what I expected, but I did enjoy Ox. If he survives that silly war, I think I might go back to have him again.

Chapter 15

New Earth, Home of the Golden Ones

While Vulcan continued to pepper her with more questions, Melody guided the Yaris through the deserted city. She eventually reached Doyle Drive and started across the bridge.

”Stop! Yes, right here,” yelled Vulcan, fascinated by the sight of thick, gray fog slowly moving away from the ocean side of the bridge. “Does that happen every morning? If we came earlier, would it have covered the car? Could you drive through it then, or would you have to wait?” The car was near the middle of the bridge when Vulcan’s excited cries had Melody slamming on the brakes.

Not waiting for her answers, he jumped out of the car as soon as she brought it to a stop. Melody, familiar with the lingering cold air left behind by damp San Francisco fog, wisely stayed inside the heated Yaris.

It took some time, but even Vulcan began to shiver from the cold. When he returned to the car and got in, his first comment while he started to thaw out was, “I thought you said people called this place Sunny California. Where’s the sun gone?”

“Give it time. In the meantime, let’s get going.” Melody started the car, and they again headed toward Marin County. Reaching Sausalito at the northern end of the bridge, she soon turned off the freeway at the first exit.

“What are we doing here?” asked Vulcan. Melody had pulled into the empty parking area at Vista Point and turned off the car’s engine. The lot was empty, that is, except for one other vehicle located a short distance from where she stopped their car.

Melody smiled at his curiosity, but said nothing. She simply got outside the Yaris and waited for him to join her. By now, the fog had completely dissipated. Standing there in the stiff breeze coming of the water, they were able to feel the warmth of the morning sun. “Look back over there,” Melody finally answered Vulcan’s question, pointing to the south. Off in the distance, the skyline of San Francisco appeared like a spectacular picture on a postcard. The long, uneven line of empty skyscrapers looked just the same as it did when thousands of people filled those buildings

“The views from this spot are magnificent,” said Vulcan and followed Melody to stand near part of the stone protective wall to get a closer view. “Now I can even see the bridge with no fog covering it, and you were right. The color’s orange, not golden, but it’s still beautiful.”

Leaving Vulcan to continue rhapsodizing at what was overly familiar to her, Melody slowly walked across the lot toward the other vehicle. When she got nearer, she saw it was a newer model Cadillac Escalade. With constant wind coming off the bridge and months of rain since the owners abandoned the vehicle, the black paint no longer was showroom shiny. Debris covered the SUV, and all four tires were flat. She noticed someone left the passenger side window rolled down and came closer to see what might be inside the vehicle.

“What are you looking at?” Melody jumped when she heard Vulcan’s voice right behind her. Unnoticed, he had followed her to the Cadillac, as curious as she was to find out why the SUV was there. His dark hair appeared windblown from the strong breeze, and his face had turned a slightly ruddy color already from the strong sunlight.

Melody noted his slight sunburn and did not answer right away. I’d better get some sunscreen for him before that gets any worse. The last thing I need is for him to get sick. She then opened the unlocked door of the SUV and saw a paper on the passenger side seat.

Vulcan watched her lean in and pick up the paper. Once she stood back outside and began reading to herself, he was too curious to wait. “What’s it say? Is it anything important?”

Looking up at him with visible tears in her eyes, she whispered, “It’s a suicide note written by…” Melody’s broke, and she was unable to go continue. Instead, she handed the page to Vulcan.

Since he did not want to upset Melody any more than she was, Vulcan walked a few feet away and began silently reading the note. “My name is Joseph Osborn, and I’m a 65-year-old pediatric surgeon. At least I was when there were still some children to heal. That hasn’t been true for too long a time. When my last patient turned 18 yesterday, I knew my profession and I were both obsolete.

“I’m leaving this letter behind to explain my actions in the next few minutes. Some might call me a coward, unable to face what my life has become. So be it! I’m a coward, a frightened man afraid to live in a world so filled with hatred.”

Vulcan looked up from the page to find Melody was watching him. He gave her a small, encouraging smile and returned to finished reading the note. “I leave nobody behind since my beloved wife passed on over a year ago. The doctors said her breast cancer was in remission and didn’t understand why she died. I do. I think she couldn’t go on living in the type of world this has become.

“It took me all this time to understand why she simply gave up, and I’m ready to join her. A couple years ago, the news stopped reported the names of people jumping off the Golden Gate to commit suicide. This afternoon, I’ll just be another unknown person adding to this bridge’s deadly statistic.”

The note ended there, so Vulcan neatly folded it, stuck it into his shirt pocket, and walked to where Melody now waited by their own little car.

To continue reading this story, chapters 16 thru 20 are in the link below.

To Live Again In Paradise - Segment 04  (GC) Chapters 16 thru 20 #2091508 by J. A. Buxton