charlo

" Can I be a character in your book? I want to be blond and have a long dick".

So here is Charlo. Not his real name, just another request made to someone else. For a different book. One about parallel universes.

In truth, Charlo, with his long hair, and blond dick, sits much better over there. In that other fiction where he can be a bad ass, a chick magnet anti-hero. Misdeeding around like a sexy one-man-crime-wave.

Sorry Charlo. Not in here, although I might let you pop in and out of the science fiction thriller, at the most inappropriate moments, so just you can see what your "other life" could have been. I can do that. I can do anything.

******************************************************

Charlo wakes up. He feels battered and sore all over. His blond hair in a mess, split ends covered in sick. He grabs a glass, full of water, and is suddenly overcome with memories of a different glass. Sitting in a dimly lit bar, surrounded by "honeys" scratching his head (clean and perfectly highlighted) over a newspaper article...In an instant the image is gone, leaving him feeling empty. Like he should be following a different path. Like he has been robbed of something.

He has. He's been robbed of a plot, a purpose. He's been pulled from the dimly lit bar into some sort of limbo. He's floating in an empty space, not yet constructed. In a time that has not been designated. No other characters for company or interaction. Only a glass of water, discomfort, and a vague memory of being some place else.

I'll give him a face. To do it quickly, I'll use the one of the real Charlo; brown eyes, slightly bulbous nose and full bowed lips. He is now free to move inside your head. I'll leave him there at your own whims and devices for the time being. Mine is too full of recipes for scallops, dirty laundry and dark thoughts.