She Picks - Short Story by Ryan A. Loera

  She picks her nose. She picks it often.
  Her favorite day to pick it is Sunday. The Lord’s Day.
  While most people change into their Sunday best to go to mass… she changes into her Sunday best to pick her nose.
  She starts off slow and gentle. Sometimes she lights a vanilla scented candle beforehand. She says it adds something extra to the moment.
  Do not be confused by my description. I assure you I am not using any kind of metaphor when I say she picks her nose.
  She thoroughly enjoys it.
  Sex has never been much of a concern to her. Nose picking gives her far more satisfaction.
  When she picks her nose she gets lost.
  Lost in time, lost in space, lost in the simple act of picking her nose.
  She says her soul merges with the entire Universe when she picks. She becomes one with everything.
  To her it is a divine blessing.
  She is not a whore or heretic!
  She is a nose-picker.
  And she is damn proud of it!


All words written by Ryan A. Loera
Copyright 2015

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Sunny Day Motel - Short Story by Ryan A. Loera

An arctic breeze wrapped around the Sunny Day Motel then blew in through my room window. Winter had come early, it felt good. I've never been a summer person, always been a winter person.

I turned on the small television set and watched some weird show about a bunch of spoiled house wives driving around in BMWs. Ten minutes later I turned it off. They call it reality television. That ain't reality!

I picked up the guitar magazine I bought at the gas station and thumbed through it. My favorite guitarist was on the cover. He looked happy and proud.

That used to be me, that could've been me. But not now.

I heard a quick knock on my door. I hastily slipped on my steel toed boots and tucked in my flannel shirt. When I opened the door I was shocked and stunned.

"Hello! My name is Valerie! Are you Harold Dinkman?" She was quite possibly the most beautiful person I had ever seen!
"Are you Harold Dinkman?" She asked again.
Her eyes were bright blue and they sparkled like two perfectly formed stars.

"I uh… yes. I mean… it's Dunkman not Dinkman." I spoke in a semi-incoherent manner.
"Oh I'm sorry. But you are Harold… right?" She pushed back a strand of her raven black hair and smiled.
"Yes! Harold… I am Harold!" I shouted without realizing it.

"All right then. If you can please remove your pants and lie back on the bed we can begin your treatment." She began undressing.

I closed the door and did what she requested. She slipped off her bra and panties then slowly walked towards me. I turned on the small white clock radio then tuned it to a smooth jazz station.

"So did the doctor give you good news today?" She asked while gyrating to the music. Her nude body glistened beautifully.
"No. He said the cancer has spread to my brain." I replied.
"Oh, dear! What… do we do now?" She looked down at her wedding ring then hugged me tight.
"There's not much we can do. Let's just stay here for a little while, my sweet Val." I wanted to cry but I had already accepted my fate.

I wish I could've stayed in that moment forever. I never wanted to leave my beautiful wife… Valerie.



All words written by Ryan A. Loera
Copyright 2015

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