Apr 18 2007

Fictionlet

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“Well, while I was obviously flattered that you liked Retrograde Maneuvers,” Greg said, “I was mostly surprised that you’d even heard of it. I mean really, you’re Wenton Delaney, celebrated crime novelist and famous world-traveling macho man, whereas Retrograde Maneuvers is a silly little romantic comedy rife with urban milksops. It’s sort of like when I found out that Hemingway’s mother dressed him as a girl until he was six or whatever it was. It doesn’t jive with the image.”

Wenton laughed one of those table-shakers and pulled the cigar out of his mouth. “Naaah, that’s nothing weird,” he said, and swigged his beer. “Everybody’s got facets, ya know, and writers even moreso. How do you think we come up with all those characters? Hell, I’m a thousand people besides this guy ‘Wenton Delaney, celebrated crime novelist and famous world-traveling macho man’ you keep talking about. Somewhere inside of me I’ve got a five foot tall, perky and giggling bisexual tennis girl in a miniskirt.”

Greg blinked and looked over Wenton’s enormous frame. “Taken up cannibalism, have you?” he asked. Wenton just guffawed again.

-The Gneech

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