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J P Riley

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Vegas and the Mob
by Al Moe

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The Chair
By J P Riley
Saturday, November 17, 2007

Rated "G" by the Author.

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An analogy of perception. How fear of the unknown can feed on itself.

The day was wearing down, but still held all the heat and humidity from the burning sun that scorched the entire day. It had been 94 degrees for most of the late morning and early afternoon. He could still feel the droplets of perspiration, on his brow, as they trickled down his face. The saltiness burning his left eye. His sweat was a combination of both the heat and his uncontrollable nervousness. He was sitting in an uncomfortable four legged kitchen style chair wanting arm rests. He could see it as he raised his head so slightly. It was grotesque looking, almost a replica from a science fiction movie he once saw. It took on gigantic proportions with a very large back and an unspeakable contraption sticking out the top. His face was blanched as he pondered his fate. This surely would be his last day on earth. There was an incongruous mix of instruments to be used, none of which he was used to seeing. There was even a mirror, in which he would most surely have to see himself enduring his ultimate end. A very tall, thin, and unassuming man, with a stunted mustache directly under his nostrils, entered the room. He was Hitler like. His hair neatly combed, with a left sided part and drooping slightly over his forehead. He wore a white lab coat that hugged to his knees. He bustled about the room preparing to do what he was hired to do. There in full view, one could see the electricity in the walls, the equipment to be powered by it, as everything was placed in close proximity to where IT would happen. There were some people sitting and waiting to observe. They all looked sullen, but acclimatized, waiting for the show to begin. There was a fetid smell of alcohol in the room, usually used for sterilization. There was a round clock on the wall displaying roman numerals. It had old English style hands denoting the time. He watched it hard, as it ticked and ticked and ticked. He tried to will it to stop, maybe even stop time forever, which would save him, but to no avail. It just kept ticking and ticking and ticking. As he stared at the black marble floor, he thought that in these last few moments he would summon God to intervene. What could he have done to warrant such an end. Certainly God would forgive whatever it was that put him in this situation. God is all forgiving. Maybe one last prayer would do it. He spoke in a soft voice, barely audible, "Lord please spare me from"; a loud voice spoke out with a command to come forward, directed toward the voice praying. The command came from the man in the white lab coat, holding glistening instruments in his hands. It didn't look like God would intervene after all. It was time. A slow walk toward the chair, squishing sounds from his rubber soles against the marble floor made all the spectators heads turn. As he was placed in the chair, with a striped sheet cover, to keep him secure, he was told not to move. He closed his eyes maybe for the last time. THEN IT HAPPENED!!!!!!!!

John C. Maloney

Age 3

Received His First Haircut

By Joseph P Riley
January 2007

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Reviewed by William Bonilla 8/31/2008
I remember when My father used to take me to the Barber, just a couple of doors from our house, the close crop cuts
and the aromatic talc, and no I never cried than....
peace be with you Brother

Reviewed by Carole Mathys 12/14/2007
What a delightful story, thanks for the smiles. Welcome to the den, and I look forward to reading more of your work...

Reviewed by Joyce Devenish 12/10/2007
Ha, ha. Yes, well I could have sworn he was going to have a tooth removed. Good one...JDM

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