does amanda have a migraine? she has one when we have sex. she has one when we have dinner. she has one at board meetings. she has two assistants. they are in their late twenties. they both have black hair. katie, the one with a boyfriend in l.a., is tall and beautiful. she wants to have a baby with her boyfriend. she has dated mostly cyclists. amanda is going to put them up in a hotel in bend. they will talk about everything. they will sleep in a queen size bed. they will kiss and fuck each other under the sheets. they will tell her not to see me and she will listen. i’m not texting amanda. she will have to text me. i will spend another night without her. amanda’s anus, was above me, i stuck my tongue in it, it came undone, a blue light entered her small and large intestine. she pushed down and moved from side to side, the blue light bathed her alabaster thighs. she squeezed my scrotum, tepid blue and red light issued from my penis. she smacked me really hard, though it could have been much harder in my mind, in the face for lying. i felt deep regret and i wanted to die for her. i came deeply. amanda has been lied to before and she hates it. she hates men for undermining her. she looks forward to being close to the two women who work under her. she can regulate them. i hate liars, amanda said. you’re a liar. why did you lie. don’t you ever lie to me. she kneed me in the groin. the image of a buffalo skull with a bullet hole in its skull from her father’s ranch lingered in my mind. amanda is angry with me for not fucking her not because i told her a white lie.
fran is stuck with a drunk social worker. she was using him to make me jealous when i rejected her and somehow fell in love with him. he sent her dick pics when they were first seeing each other. i was happy for her. she was finally getting cock. i wasn’t giving it to her. i only cried in her arms and we talked to each other about our suicidal fantasies. the social worker has no money. she pays for his gas money. he borrows money from her and it gets old. fran like myself wants to get away from family situations. she likes to have her two teenage boys to herself. i envy her. i don’t get to see my daughter as often as i like. she is closer to her boys now that her husband passed from cancer. she is their mother and father. her older sixteen year old is in her class. he raises his hand when he has the answer and she calls on him. i talk to anne about amanda and anne talks to me about bob, the social worker. anne had her arm on the table and left it unattended. she pretended to forget about it. it was obscene. i thought it was typical of anne to test me with the bizarre gesture. the arm looked like it was there to be broken. it reminded me of losing my family. it was straight and turned over so that the elbow was upward. her gaze was stiff.
fran wants to get away from bob. she wants me to stay with amanda so that i won’t be lonely. i can be very lonely. i constantly want to die for love like john keats and to seek refuge in technology. i have a hard time taking care of myself. my blood pressure is getting worse from inactivity.