Plagiarism

April 02, 2025

Donna regretted the decisions she made.

She regretted meeting Max. She regretted all she had to do to want to marry Max.

Most of all, Donna regretted becoming Bonnie.

The Golden Pelican diner was one of those out-of-the-way dives in which the periphery of beautiful women wait to be discovered in the periphery of talent pools such as Hollywood. In its booths rested the bleach blondes, the high school dropouts, and the potential gold diggers waiting for the blue-plate-special the diner never served.

Today was Donna’s turn to wait. Today was Max’s turn to wander in. Their eyes met. His wallet cleared the confusion of his intent. Donna was not ignorant of her wants and how far she would go to get them. Max was counting on this. He made his proposition to Donna, paid the bill, and the two of them headed toward the coast. Not exactly his home, but far better than anything the west side of Yuma had to offer.

The next month went well for Donna and Max. He set her up in a nice town home, paid all of her bills, and kept her as a kept woman would be kept. In return, Max had only three prerequisites for Donna. She had to act like Max’s wife, Bonnie. This included using her name and beginning to look like her. Next, Donna could not divulge any personal information about either Max or her to anyone. She could not call friends or family. She could not have neighbors over for lunch. Donna wanted to be an actress and this was the first step of her new life. Finally, Donna could not ask questions. She was to go along with whatever Max wanted, when he wanted it, and how he wanted it. At first, Donna had reservations that Max could be a sex fiend or a serial killer. However, she remembered what Yuma was like and how close she was to Hollywood.

Donna, now Bonnie, the wife of Max, rolled the dice and found her situation to be to her liking.

Bonnie, the real Bonnie, continued sunbathing on her deck in Malibu. This used to be her parent’s home. It was now hers, as a wedding present, when she said “I do” to Max two years ago. She loved this house. She was not going to move. Max wanted to pack up and return to Manhattan. He could buy back into his partnership on Madison Avenue. He would thrive in New York.

She would die in New York.

For this reason, she had her lawyers lock down all of their marital assets. She took out a new two million dollar life insurance policy out on Max. She placed on retainer a good divorce attorney. Max would learn about his impending demise when he returned. He would lose half of everything he had. He did not have as much as she had, but the sting would be painful and wonderful to watch.

Speaking of watches, it was almost time for her private yoga class.

It was time for her private yoga class. Donna, now answering exclusively to Bonnie, inserted the VHS tape into the machine. Max told her his wife had a dancer’s body. He even gave her a picture of Bonnie posing seductively on her back adorned in a black bodysuit. A few more weeks of pampering she could endure, alone in this condo. She kept her end of the bargain. Her purse had more than 20000 dollars in it, thus Max kept his word.

She could get used to this forever. With the money she made, she placed an order with a local boutique. They carried what she wanted. She knew she promised not to disclose herself to anyone, but she just had to. By the end of the day, the delivery was made, she tipped the driver (he would remember that tip and her smile), and her purse was nearly $300 lighter. Donna died that night. The new Bonnie took her place. In her mind, not just for today, but forever.

Max finished his day work at the biggest bank this town offered. He purchased a new life insurance policy on his wife for nearly three million dollars. He included all of Bonnie’s personal information. They asked for a picture. He gave them one. In it, she was sultry. She exposed more than she should. The picture took the viewer right to the edge of morality and decorum. The underwriters filed the photo in the file knowing it would never remain. Max knew of their intentions. He was counting on such behavior.

By week’s end, Bonnie decided to take her Mercedes-Maybach for a ride to visit her parents before Max returned later that day. He would be tired, then mad, and finally, vulnerable. She would push him emotionally to his breaking point, hoping he would do something criminal. Her friend told her to wire the house for video and audio, broadcasting in real time to the internet. She held all of the cards, and soon, all of the money. Before she departed, Bonnie used the bathroom because she felt somewhat queasy. Her vomiting was the harbinger of an unfortunate complication in her plan. When she informed her friend, her friend informed her of where to purchase a testing kit. Exactly as advertised, she had her results in fifteen minutes. Bonnie told her friend it was a false alarm even while holding the test strip with the positive indication in her hand. She had plans for this information.

On Wednesday, Max said goodbye to new Bonnie. One month would elapse before he would return. In that time, all new Bonnie had to do was perfect her being old Bonnie. Max told her the exchange would be seamless. Max told her she would live the life she should be living. Max told her everything she wanted to hear except, “I love you.” The hormones coursing through her body (as indicated by her hidden test strip) could be assuaged by those three little words. She would make him see the light. Together, they would be the family Donna never had; the family Donna never had a chance of having.

Bonnie arrived and gathered her parents for a brunch special at a new bistro that was all of the rage. Her intention was to inform them of the deterioration of her marriage and her motherly attitude caused by pregnancy.

That was Bonnie’s intention.

The Mercedes-Maybach she drove scheduled a different narrative that day. Brake failure, so common in the S-Class sedans of her model year, arrived unexpectedly for all of its three (now four) occupants to react to. The red light on this boulevard intersected another four lane parkway of similar congestion for this time of day.

The collision involved, as per the police report, one Mercedes, one truck carrying granite slabs (most likely for kitchen countertops), and an asphalt truck with a faulty discharge seal. Witnesses described the terror of watching the simultaneous impact of all three. Fixed traffic cameras recorded for posterity the unsecured pieces of granite impaling the occupants just seconds prior to the discharge of hot asphalt.

Their screams never really subsided either in real time or in the memory of those in close proximity.

For new Bonnie, newly pregnant Bonnie, waiting patiently in the townhouse, never watching her television, it was time to act. It had been too long since she had seen Max. She wanted to tell him of her condition. He was not answering his phone. She was not used to being ignored. There was only one thing for her to do. She had to find Max.

She was packed and departed within the hour. Her place was at his side in Malibu.

“Don’t tell me that this new dame actually thought she should show up at this Max’s house.” Sgt Miller rarely held anything back when speaking to Detective Adams.

“When I read this, even I could not believe this. Nobody is this naive.” The Detective nodded for the Sergeant to continue reading the document.

New Bonnie arrived in Malibu six hours later via three buses and one taxi. The police arrived five hours earlier. The life insurance agent arrived soon after the police. The press arrived instantly and had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

“Did this guy even try to collect on the insurance?”

“Yes he did.” It was all Detective Adams would offer to Sgt. Miller.

“How much longer will the jury deliberate?”, the Sgt. relied.

“I figure they should be returning soon.”

Donna made it back to the Golden Pelican, barely, before her shift started. Little Max, Maxwell junior, took his time getting ready for school, making his mother late. Seems both father and son have this penchant for trying her patience whether during conjugal visits or morning preschool.

She would incur the wrath of the owner, again, never caring enough to find a new job. There was no other place for her to go. Ironically, there was no other person to work the counter than Donna.

In the settlement, Donna walked away uncharged but also as broke as she arrived.

Except for her purse, no longer stuffed with hundred dollar bills, but mutual fund receipts and quarterly statements. And a legal agreement for a Californian town home easily rented to married men with pretty mistresses needing ”discretion”, always paying with cash.

It wasn’t Hollywood, but it was as close as she would get.

The Three Body Problem

March 31, 2025

Today was my D-Day. Mark and Glynnis both made their decision. As wonderful the previous four months were, there would not be another month (or a day) to enjoy, together.

Glynnis introduced me to Mark and the three of us discovered more than we had originally anticipated. I always wanted Mark. Glynnis wanted me. She referred to me as her “side-piece”. However, she was not interested in Mark wanting me. Glynnis tolerated our times together. She enjoyed the role playing in which we became subservient (a natural position for me) to the orders of Mark. He wanted full control of the both of us. Glynnis wanted full control of me.

I wanted to be always wanted.

If astronomy is any indicator, the Three Body Problem, such as ours, has only one of three possible outcomes. The first, the favorite of Glynnis, was that two bodies orbit each other and the third is ejected into the cosmos, never to return. The second, championed my Mark, was that the three bodies would endure permanent chaos, with occasional periods of stability. The last, my favorite, was that the three bodies would collide, permanently fusing them together, in a spectacular vision, envied by all close enough to watch, and not be consumed by the energy expelled from within.

I lay here, on this bed, alone, forced to accept the only outcome I could not accept. I am an outcast never acquiring the purpose I am singularly designed to fulfill.

Newton could not predict the outcome of the Three Body problem.

What chance have I?

It’s OK

For Mary, the one who needed this the most

The clouds will part

Revealing a Sun that never stopped shining

The Earth did not stop spinning

And you never really thought it would

Take a breath

Look in the mirror

See the smartest person

On any subject you deem important

It’s OK to begin anew

Leaving the mistakes of ago in ago

The dawn of today is the dawn of your life

You are where you need to be

I Have an Idea

March 27, 2025

I went to the library

Sat down with a book

“The Name of the Rose”, by Umberto Eco

And read it in its entirety

The next day, I returned

Obviously, I have time on my hands

Determined to chose another classic

Determined to discover why it is a classic

My idea is equally similar

Go to the search function of Prose

Type in 2 or 3 random letters

Discover an unfamiliar writer

Then read what they have to offer

Then see the world they created

Walk in the shoes of their protagonist

Wonder why you have not already

Serendipity notwithstanding

This avenue of exploration does reveal

A myriad of silicates and shale not worthy of inspection

But also the improbable diamonds remembered forever

From whom did this idea originate?

Why Adso, of course! And who is Adso?

Yesterday, he was an unfamiliar character

Today, he is a friend with an idea

Forever

March 26, 2025

Where do parallel lines intersect?

When do diamonds lose their luster?

For how long will the Sun rise?

What does it take to end true love?

I thought eternity was a friend

I thought everything was quantitative

I thought about forever

However, forever never thought about me

My time, from my POV, is lengthy

Awash with chronological representations

Of weeks, month, years, and decades

Substantive to those who covet substantive things

But forever scoffs at such thoughts

Not even a sig fig in any calculation

Forever dwarfs all life

Forever dwarfs all

So, how vast is the ocean?

So, how many stars in the sky?

Forever will always be there to calculate

I just won’t forever be there to hear the answer

Either

March 24, 2025

Either I can fish or cut bait

Either I can put up or shut up

Either I can go big or go home

Either I will love you or I won’t

Either I will succeed or I will fail

Either I will live or I will die

Either I will live it or I will leave it

Either you take me or you don’t

I know what side of the proverbial fence I am on.

What say you?

Last Man?

March 22, 2025

I don’t remember yesterday

Perhaps there is a reason

I don’t see another

Maybe I am the first

If I am the first of my species

Will there be another?

How will I locate them?

Should I even make the attempt?

Under the same bright stars

Another may have the very same thoughts as I

Serendipity might permit an intersection

Only after years of loneliness

Until then, I have only myself to live for

And I intend to live for it all

To find me, look for adventure

Then just follow the laughter

However, should I prove to be the last

May this be my last will and testament

The world belongs to

Whoever can hold it

Learn from our mistakes

Learn from our successes

Be a better steward than we were

You have no other duty

Succulent Sufficed

March 20, 2025

Sweet nectar

Mine for the taking

So daring

So fresh

So ready

No resistance offered

No persuasion required

My experience showed

Inviting was the word

And the word was good

Nicknames are not chosen

By the person who needs one

These are monikered

By those in attendance that day

Informally, “Succulent” sufficed

Woman in a Prom Dress

March 19, 2025

Despondent

Full of Despair

A declaration of loss

Left at the altar

Wearing the prom dress

She wore when she was

Stood up that night as a senior

Everyone has since departed

To return gifts

Before they stain both

Giver and recipient alike

The food slowly spoils

In the summer heat

Inside the small church without AC

The Parson asks if she needs anything else

He has to ask twice before she answers

Sees her gown does not require dry cleaning

She can wear it once more

“What is your busiest season for funerals?”

The Parson replies, “The Fall.”

“Book me for October” is the last thing she says

Sunrise On All of My Tomorrows

March 19, 2025

6 am, time to start the first day

Of the rest of my life

I might follow the path laid before me

Of intelligent design

Most would take this option

I, however, am not most

Perhaps I should travel as the sun travels

From east to west

Either warming my back

Or lighting my way

A good friend to have

But, my path needs no friends

I will walk the walk of few before me

Some will call me a wanderer

Some will wonder if I am lost

It matters not where I currently reside

But, if I finish where I want to reside

When I am ready to finally reside

Until then

I have the time to take in a few sights

Maybe ask a few questions

Someone may spin a yarn for my pleasure

Or fix me a plate for the road

Either way, I give thanks for the thought

So, if you see me passing by

In this journey called life

Consider the interaction an opportunity

Not to guide me

Rather to inform me

Of esplanades and avenues yet to be trod