Michael Ampersant: Lachrymal glands --- This is heaven --- (teaser 6)

Dec 12, 2015

Lachrymal glands --- This is heaven --- (teaser 6)

Another teaser from This Is Heaven, the second part of the best-selling GREEN EYES series. Context: John, Alex, Dr. Alice Sandeman and Godehart have spent a boozy time on the terrace of Nick's restaurant, cooking up an absurd scheme that involves counterfeiting the internet site of the upcoming Georgia Beach Festival. John (the blogger) is tasked to do it. Then Dr. Sandeman is off to work, and the three men repair to Godehart's place, where John can use the office and the computer for his work. Godehart has the brilliant, yet unsurprising idea of an intermezzo in the bedroom, but John, who's still hurting from a similar intermezzo earlier during the morning in the dunes (the gay cruising area), turns them down, so Alex and Godehart are left to their own devices. The bedroom is upstairs, the office is downstairs. And, one more thing, the computer is password protected. And, one more thing, the name of Godehart's self-steering SUV is Isolde.

Wile E. Coyote goes off the cliff now. He goes to Google’s Blogger, the platform for his site. His site is a blog, but an official event site mustn’t look like a blog. He knows little about the festival, and begins to realize the enormity of his task. He feels the need for coffee, goes to the kitchen, gets the Delonghi espresso machine going, feels the effect of the alcohol wearing off (good in some respects, bad in others), returns to the office with a cup in his hand, sits down, realizes that the laptop has gone asleep and requires the password anew, gets up again, climbs the stairs, opens the door to Godehart’s bedroom, and is hit by gravity.

The threesome that wasn't --- Miguel Angel Reyes (2004)

The fall begins, in slow motion, him descending back down the stairs, back into the office where he---at least---can’t hear the noise. He sits down again, clasps his face with both hands, and begins to cry, tears rolling down his face, more tears coming, dripping onto the desk, the keyboard, flooding the floor, flooding everything, until he drowns.

Wile E. Coyote

He’s sitting there for some time before he realizes he’s still alive. He tries all sorts of things to get his lachrymal glands under control, leaning this way, leaning that way, lying down, the routines you try when your nose bleeds or a hiccup won’t go away. He fails. He realizes the need for help. Through the veil of his tears he perceives the beep for the self-steering SUV lying on the desk, takes it, leaves the premises, mounts Isolde, and speaks: “The Baptist Memorial Hospital.” The hospital is eight minutes away, he’s still crying upon arrival, explains his case to the emergency receptionist who leads him to the waiting area where the tears continue until he feels a hand on his shoulder, the hand of Dr. Alice Sandeman. The doctor points at the floor where a new puddle of lachrymal fluid has accumulated. He knows what she’s going to ask now, because that’s what she's always asking in comparable situations, of which there have been a few already despite the recency of their acquaintance. And, yes, she does: “Your work?” she asks. She leads him to the trauma room where he finally crashes.

You're still there? Then you will like the book:

order now...