“Craving.” Kerouac’s Dog Magazine 3 (2011). Print. UK.
Watching Meryl toss her hair in the rearview mirror, Clive held his breath. Her burgundy bra strap peaked out and sparkled in the sunlight. Mesmerized, Clive imagined the sound it would make snapping against her skin, like the pop of a champagne bottle. His son Derek was caught in the middle of a texting war, barely noticing the goddess sitting next to him. After the car came to a full stop, Meryl gathered her things and waved goodbye. Watching her walk away, Clive wondered how much longer he could take keeping his lust to himself.
Neither hero or villain, Clive McCandless was a regular middle aged man with a work a day life, an ex-wife, and a child support order. It took him a long time to come to terms with the idea that he had nothing particularly special to offer to the world and that in itself was okay. But that was all before he met Meryl. Meryl Jenkins, his son’s stepsister and his ex-wife’s lover’s daughter, was Meryl Streep circa Kramer vs. Kramer. She was kind and audacious and shy and sensual. She was everything that Clive has been looking for in a woman for forty nine years, the only problem was that she had only been alive during the last sixteen.
On the drive to work, Clive tried to remember if he had ever felt this overwhelming need for a woman before. It has been a full six months since Meryl came to live with her father and Clive’s ex-wife and that was the first time he had seen her since she was fourteen. She lost twenty pounds, gained four inches and two cup sizes. Her hair was no longer jet black and her attitude was too much for her mother to handle.
Work was uneventful as usual. Dan Landers, Clive’s toupee-wearing cubicle neighbor, circulated rumors about possible cutbacks and Doreen McKenna, the woman who sued the company for sexual harassment, retreated to the ladies room every two hours with her breast pump. After hating himself for eating three muffins during the morning meeting, Clive spent much of the afternoon cyber stalking Meryl on Facebook and Twitter. He examined and reexamined her pictures, read her postings, and debated whether or not to write her a casual hello. Was there even such a thing as a casual hello from pot bellied father of her stepbrother?
After work, Clive parked the car in the garage and got out. Out of habit, he straightened out his suit and pressed the button to close the door. He looked forward to an evening alone in front of the television, with Chinese takeout and a glass of wine. Sonya was away at college and Derek was supposed to be at his mother’s. Clive opened the door and flipped on the lights. A pair of epic breasts stared straight at him. Perky and round, they peaked out of the familiar burgundy bra and vibrated softly up and down. Meryl let out a yelp, jumped up, and grabbed the blanket away from Derek. Frozen in place, Clive watched her dress haphazardly and run up the stairs.
After that, everything was a blur. Clive somehow managed to get back to the car and out of the garage, driving like hell trying to forget that he just walked in on his son having sex with the love of his life. But it was no use. The hatred he felt for Derek was only surpassed by the hatred he felt for himself. Lost in a tundra, Clive knew no way out.