Message-ID: <13303eli$9807231507@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tikij@my-dejanews.com Subject: My Life - In A Nutshell, Ch 9/9 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6p6ptm$ua8$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> Hey kids- Here's the long awaited (well, maybe not) finale of My Life - In a Nutshell. This chapter is short, and is just a quick wrap-up of the story. I'm sorry if you were expecting more, but this is just the way it will end. I am on to another project now, but there will most likely be a spin-off story coming soon, involving Devon and his Kansas City adventures. I might also include some short bits of my new project, a work of fiction that will have little in the way of sex. Then again, with the newsgroup being alt.sex.stories, maybe not. If you are interested, however, let me know. Like I said, this will do it for Nutshell. I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you all for your comments and critiques from earlier. If you would like to check out the rest of the story in it's entirety, go here: http://www.asstr.ml.org/mainframe.html then click on 'authors', then TikiJ. Again, send all comments to: tikij@hotmail.com ************************************************************************ CHAPTER NINE – THE END "Malibu and Coke, please," said the lone man at the end of the bar. The phone rang. I grabbed a glass, then picked up the receiver. "Club Manhattan." "May I speak to Cal, please?" "This is Cal. Who is this?" I asked, the din of the bar crowd making it difficult to hear. I scooped some ice into the glass. "It’s Serena, silly. How are you?" "I’m good. How are things in California?" "Good." "How did you find me?" "I got a hold of Brian." "Oh. Listen, I can barely hear you," I said as Pink Floyd blasted from the jukebox. "Can I call you sometime?" "Sure." "Give me your number," I said, grabbing a napkin. ****** I slumped back in the sofa, instantly regretting the phone call I had just made. I got up and headed for the kitchen. I leaned into the fridge and grabbed a Coke. The phone rang. Walking back to the sofa, I picked up the phone. "Hello?" I said. "Hey. Sorry about before. It was really loud." "That’s okay." "I turned the jukebox down a bit. So, what’s up?" "Nothing. I was just thinking." "Oh?" "Yeah. I’m sorry." "For what?" "Expecting you to follow me around the country like some kind of lost puppy while I tried to figure out what I was going to do with my life." "Oh. Well, don’t worry, you know…" "No. I can’t not worry. I’ve been miserable. It’s been almost two years, you know. And like six months since I’ve even talked to you." I started to cry. "I finished grad school, you know," I said, laughing and crying. "Really? That’s great. What did you get?" "Master’s in Urban Planning." "Cool. You going to go plan cities now?" "I’m going to try. I’m interviewing for a job in Salt Lake. That’s why I called. I’d like to see you." "I’d like to see you, too." "So, how’s your job?" "Good. I’m starting 5:30 weeknights tomorrow. I’ve been working here after hours for something to do." "Oh. I’m glad to hear that," I said with a relieved laugh. "Brian told me you were working at a bar, and I thought you’d lost your job or something." "No. Brian probably gave you that impression, though, huh?" "Yeah." "He’s kind of like that, you know." "Yeah. I’ve got to go get some sleep now," I said. "I’m looking forward to seeing you, though." "Yeah. So am I. I missed you." "Missed you too. Cal?" "Yeah?" "I love you. I’ve always loved you." "I love you, too. I’ll always love you." ****** "Hey, Cal! How’s the weather gonna be tomorrow?" "Oh, Dev, you know the rules, I never mix jobs." "Come on Cal, help me out here, I’ve got an 6:30 tee time at Bonneville." "Dude, you get a job in _my_ city – I found this place first – move in next door to me, and all you do is give me shit." I grabbed a glass from the overhead rack. "Shit. _Your_ city?! What the hell is that? Just cause I’m from Missouri doesn’t mean that I don’t have the right to move to Utah?" "Yeah!" I said with a smile, "why the hell would anyone ever want to move here?" "You did, you moron," said Devon, half into his beer. "Whatever. 6:30 AM?" "Yeah." "Why didn’t you invite me?" "I did, you putz. You said you had to sleep in or something. Some bullshit about your primetime debut." "Oh yeah." I smiled. "Let’s see… low tonight about 65… should be around 70-75 by tee time, high about 95." "Thanks, buddy. Say, you look a little brighter since you got off the phone. Who was it?" "My girlfriend. Or my ex-…" "Serena?" "I think she’s my girlfriend again," I said as I scooped some ice. I smiled, "yeah, I think she’ll be my girlfriend again." "Right on, dude," said Devon, raising his glass in salute. "Right on." -----== Posted via Deja News, The Leader in Internet Discussion ==----- http://www.dejanews.com/rg_mkgrp.xp Create Your Own Free Member Forum -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----