Timewas here

I'm new. Looks like a very exciting forum. I primarialy write short stories, and I have one that I like you to read if you would. It's more or less erotica, but not porn, too much, anyway.

Death Camp​

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I could see the smoke through the small window, sickening black smoke the rolled out of the death chamber, a large cubicle where people were cremated after being shot, after dying of starvation or disease. The smoke, when it curled down over the building I was in, was sickening, so sickening that I wanted to vomit sometimes. It wasn’t necessarily the smell that made me want to vomit. It was knowing that human beings, some still alive, were being burned to ashes.
They were mostly Jews and dissidents, those that cursed the system. I was one, of course, that came all the way from Montana, not as a Jew, but because I was young and full of ideas about how this planet should be run, and I tried to stop the Germans from taking over Poland, and it would soon be my turn to stand in front of a firing squad, be shot point blank in the head, and my body flung onto a cart, then carried up a ramp, where it was then shoved into the furnace.
I tried to recount just how this all happened. One day I was free, and the next, I was hauled off to a room and interrogated by the German Gestapo. They had quotas, so no matter what you said, you were guilty of something, voicing an opinion contrary to the Nazi philosophy, inciting a riot, or whatever. In general, you were guilty of treason, and then hauled to a waiting area, where you and hundreds of other, men, women and children were pushed onto trains that carried you to the famous camp of death.
It was one thing that led to another. That is really how it happened. Someone gave me a flyer. Another day I was seen looking at the flyer in café. Another day I had talked to someone that was suspected of being a dissident. Another day, the Gestapo knocked on the door and questioned me. Then a couple of days later, I was picked up, or, rather shoved into a black car. That’s when the death process really started.
If only I could have known, that my every move could lead to this imprisonment and eventually to a bullet in the head, but how could I. I did all those things before. It was just normal behavior, but you see, now it was not normal behavior. It was suspect. It was unusual in an upside down system. It was totally foreign, unnatural in a screwed up system. Anything you did was suspect, and would eventually take you to the nightmare. So, it really didn’t matter what you said, what you did, who you saw, as it would bring you to the end of the line.
A little girl sat in between the legs of her Mother, and fiddled with the ends of her Mother’s robe belt. It was as if Mother didn’t care, as if she was just waiting, as if all that was going on was of no concern for her. Her Mother held her close because she knew what was going to happen. It was just a matter of time. Perhaps in the next few minutes, the next hour, the next day. And that probably was the worst part. Not knowing when the next thing would happen. Would your number be called, would the one next to you, the one you were sitting across from. Would you look at his or her face when his or her number was called? Maybe. Most likely. You couldn’t help but look because you knew what you would see, a look of total despair, of total helplessness, a look of ‘can’t something be done,’ ‘is there anything that I could do to stop this?’ Would your face say you are sorry? Would it just look down and away, not wanting to face the, ‘please, please help me.’ I didn’t know if I could look at the next death person. Could I? Look them in the eyes and see the death, the tears, the fear, the soul searching, the hate, the why was I even born look? I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t know why I was so obsessed with this thought about looking at a potential death. Maybe it was because I didn’t have anything else to think about, so why not think about how I would look at another one that would soon die a senseless death because of a senseless belief in a god that really didn’t exist, and so here I was thinking that I could save Poland, that somehow what I did would change the course of the war, and that I would eventually become a leader of the free world. That was senseless thinking, I knew, but what else was there to dream about? What else, now, was there to occupy my mind and keep me from thinking about when it was my turn, and would I look into another person’s eyes and ask them to help me in some way? Would I? I didn’t know. I would just have to play it by ear, because first I’d have to look at that person to see if they really cared, if they took on a look that said, “Sorry, Joe. Can’t help this time. Maybe next time.” Or would the look say,” I’m so sorry that you will soon be dead. You shouldn’t have come over here from Montana and tried to stop this war. War is big money, and the rich ones need more war to make more money.”
The Mother wiped her eyes. The waiting made tears and sniffles. Tears and sniffles that asked the question of why am I here? Why? Why? Why? She pulled her robe over her breasts. The little girl had pulled it apart with her squirming and fiddling with the robe, and it just flopped open more so, and her beautiful breasts were almost totally exposed, and it didn’t matter anymore anyway. Why bother with modesty when you know your number may be the next. Why even think that you had something to hide, when you would be disrobed anyway and hustled to the edge of a small trench, and shot.
I put my head down, and cried. What had I done? I had left a beautiful life in Montana. I wouldn’t ever see a woman’s breast again. I wouldn’t even be able to kiss the soft and sweet lips of some girl. I rubbed my hands, not just because of the cold, but because they would soon be lifeless, and they would never again touch the soft skin of a girl and anybody, or my little sister’s ears. I would never again even be able to make love to a woman and feel her soft skin against my body, nor would I rub the butt of her or come inside her. That’s what I hated the most about it. I wouldn’t be able to partake of the sexual experience ever again.
And I wondered if all these people were thinking about making love, that that sexual thing would all go up with the smoke. Poor souls, some, I suppose, hadn’t even tasted the lips of another, but some, like the old ones, didn’t even think about things like that, that this was the end of love making, and some, I suppose, didn’t care at all, and they were calmly awaiting death because they had lived a wonderful life, and so what, why get excited about anything. Death would be a blessing, a way out of life that had been fruitful and nice.
I looked at the little girl. Would they just heave her into the fire alive? Why not? Why waste a bullet on something so small and worthless. Would she feel the searing heat of the flames as she was flung? I wondered, and I winched, because I was sure she would, and she would probably scream, and the scream would be taken along with her body by the flames that so mercilessly danced in the furnace.
She was one of those, like the old people who didn’t care at all about sex because they had had it all when they were younger. She would miss out on that, but right now, she didn’t even know what it was about. All she had to do was fiddle with her Mom’s rob or anything else that would occupy her fidgety nature at the moment. She probably wondered why we were in such a cold place, and if she had done something bad to deserve this. She didn’t know a thing, that she would soon die. If she did, she didn’t show it. I know she didn’t. She didn’t know that some people hate others and do horrible things to them because of the different ways of believing. How could I expect her to know, and how could they do horrible things to her. After all, she didn’t do anything bad to them or protest and any of that stuff. She was innocent, but that didn’t matter. You can be innocent and still be put to death, simply because you are close to or a relative of someone.
The Mother sat her child beside her, so that she could stretch out one leg, and as she did, I could see her nakedness. She wore nothing but the robe, and finally she brought both legs up and spread them before she could push the gown down to cover her crotch. I saw everything there. I saw the hair, I saw the indention of her butt hole, and I could see the hair around it.
I don’t think she cared one bit that I saw everything. Maybe she wanted me to see what she had that was still alive, that would soon be just ashes. That was probably what she was thinking, because she knew that I looked, that I bent my head down a little to get a better view.
Then she brought her legs together and covered herself, and then placed her hand on her crotch and rubbed it, ever so slightly, as if she was telling me, “See. This is about the last time I can pleasure myself because it will all soon be part of the sickening smoke that comes through the cracks in the walls.”
It was if she was trying to show off to the world one last time. Maybe it was something that she always wanted to do in public, like on a bus, knowing that most wouldn’t be surprised at that kind of behavior because there were all kinds of freaks on buses, but modesty told her not to, and now that she no longer had any modesty, why pretend, why not just do whatever makes you feel good, now that your life is about over.
The little girl put her mouth to one of the breasts and began sucking. There was nothing there, but it was something for her to do, and the Mother enjoyed it, as it would probably, along with rubbing her crotch, be one of the last little enjoyments she would have with her body, and the little one that she loved so much. She got into it. She closed her eyes and made some moaning sounds, and pressed her daughter closer to her breast, almost smashing her face against it. Her hand moved up and down vigorously on her crotch.
She was in a different world, indifferent to her surroundings. She was, perhaps, for the last time, partaking of that greatest joy the Universe has to offer to human beings, that sexual joy that would come for the last time for her.
She was probably thinking while she was rubbing her crotch, “I can do this. Why not. I want everybody to look. I want you to see me do this dirty stuff, and I want you to do it, too. I want you to pump your dick up and down, and I want to see a whole bunch of white stuff come out all over the dirty floor, and I want you to fuck me, and suck me and smell me and even put it in my asshole. Why not? Why not get real dirty and talk dirty. The world’s gonna end anyway, and I want to show the world that I can have sex, that I want to be fucked really hard and fast, and I want to scream when I come, and I want to suck your dick right here in front of everybody.”
That’s what I thought she might be thinking, but probably not. She probably wasn’t even thinking stuff like that, especially about having a dick in her asshole and sucking that dick after it’s been in there. I think that she just felt good for a few moments, and tried to make it last as long as she could to keep her mind from going back to death.
She looked across at me and pointed at me, then folded her hand and moved the hand up and down. I pointed my finger at myself, then folded my hand and went up and down with it. She moved her head up and down, as if telling me, “Join me, won’t you. Let’s do ourselves together, then I won’t stand out as being some crazy, someone that does weird things.”
I unbuttoned my pants, and took my penis out and began playing with it. Her eyes opened wider and she watched me stroke my dick. It was fun because her doing it and me looking at her doing it, gave me a real hard on, and after a bit I slowed down, put my head back a little, and then kinda stopped and squeezed the head of my cock, then I let it burst out, that white sperm that would never reach the egg of a woman. It would all be burned along with my cock, my balls, and her ****. It spurted all over the floor, and onto her, and it just kept coming out. Usually I don’t spurt like that and let out that much, but because of her, I did. She picked up some on her fingers and then put her fingers in her ****. Maybe she could get pregnant, and have a new life inside her, even for just a few hours before the fire devoured it.
“Number 33,…34,…..35,…..36,…..” the guard screamed out, on up to number 67.
Mine was 108. Hers was 109.
Why so few everyday was a mystery. Why were we singled out among hundreds brought to the camp every day, as most of them were put into rooms, then into the gas chambers. Some girls, especially the young ones, were singled out every day to be used that evening by the guards.
Perhaps maybe this was just a waiting room for the young girls that would service the guards, and I was just a mistake. There were more women than men in this room. Maybe they were saving me for some important person to do my butthole, one that liked to suck dicks and stuff. Maybe I could knock the bastard over the head and somehow escape, or maybe I could bite his dick off, and shove something like a broom stick up his ass, and he’d be so into it while I worked the broom stick in and out, not realizing that it wasn’t my dick, and then I could pull his gun out and shoot him in the crotch.
The little girl rubbed her eyes, and laid herself down on her Mother’s robe. She was getting her beauty sleep for tomorrow when some pedophile would come for her and put it in her tiny butthole, and jack off in her tiny mouth, and may try to put his hand in her butthole, and then suck his hand, and maybe have her pee on his dick.
Gawd. Why was I thinking all these dirty sex thoughts and getting the little one into the act. She’s innocent, I tell you, and you wouldn’t get that much satisfaction from her, not like Plato did, who probably did it to at least 500 little kids, mostly boys, but to have a change of pace, he would do it to little girls, too.
We were safe for awhile, and this was probably the last call for the day, as it was getting dusk, and the guards liked to have supper and booze and a warm place to have their fun, out of the cold winter nights that wrapped around us, that told us mockingly that we were just nothing, just something like cattle that would soon be slaughtered by a bullet to the head, and so it was that way, so unbearably cold. I had only a flimsy coat, but I was lucky enough to have shoes and socks. Most had a flimsy rob and no shoes.
It really sucked. It really did. It was hell. It was the worst of times to have been dragged from a cozy warm living room, pushed onto a freight car, and taken somewhere in the night. Yes, we knew the Jews were being rounded up and taken to death camps, but it couldn’t be us. No, not us, not me, not her, not anyone. We were God’s chosen ones, and why did He choose me and her or anyone. Were we to suffer more, to be tested, to become better and be part of a greater glory? I wasn’t a Jew, but I felt like I should do something when I was back in Montana, to save them.
The Mother patted her child’s head and ran her fingers through her hair, and looked away into nothing. There wasn’t anything to look at, except maybe death, and she blinked her eyes and yawned, I guess, maybe hoping that she could turn her mind off with sleep, but probably not. How can you sleep, waste away your last few hours on earth just before death. Does a person on death row sleep the last night? Probably not much.
The show was over. The little bit of joy that we had was no more. The other world that I had lived in for a few minutes was gone, just like a shadow that vanishes when the sun moves over the tree.
It was getting dark anyway, and to try to see more would just be frustrating. Maybe she knew that, and that’s why she covered herself. She didn’t want to frustrate me trying to see something that I couldn’t in the dark.
When it was completely dark, the Mother laid down with her child cuddled close to her belly. I laid down beside her. Why not? Maybe I could feel her up and have a little more fun. She moved her hand over to mine, and pulled me closer to her. I scooted as close as I could, then she took my hand and put it between her legs. It was warm and moist, and I knew that some of that moistness was my sperm. I could feel the hair, the hair that was different than the hair on one’s head. She pushed my hand back and forth, and I stuck one finger inside her. It was heaven, pure joy, something that I didn’t expect to happen under the circumstances.
She moaned softly, and I left my hand there. That’s what she wanted. She wanted my hand there. It seemed to make us close and part of one another. After awhile, I removed it and put it on one of her breasts, and squeezed it. She liked that, because she thrust her breast into my hand, then I shoved my dick into her ****. I could transfer me directly to her. She wouldn’t have to get it secondhand.
I put my head close to hers, and kissed here ever so softly on the lips. She licked my mouth. I licked hers.
Gawd. I hated this moment, no, I didn’t hate the moment we had together. I hated the moment that we were falling in love, and I wouldn’t get the chance to date her, to hug her and fool around with her breasts while we were watching, or trying to somewhat, a drive-in movie. Was God laughing, mocking me and her, and letting us know what we were gonna miss out on, were born just to get to this point in our love life, to just become part of a cosmic joke, to be made fun of and told that you can’t have any, not because you could in another lifetime, but because your numbers were randomly selected by Hitler to be mocked this time.
It was later during the night that the air raid siren went off. We awoke and tried to see what was happening, then a bomb burst nearby, and the flash of light jumped through the window above us. People started screaming and getting up and stumbling over one another. Another bomb knocked a hole in the wall just a few yards from us. People screamed some more, and the blast killed several nearby.
Lidie and I got up, and Lidie put her rob around her little girl, Ewa. There was so much confusion, and I knew that it was time to make a move, to find a way out of this hell hole. I grabbed her hand and we stumbled over bodies to the hole in the wall. Chaos ensued outside. We walked through the hole and made it to a vehicle parked nearby.
I put helped Lidie in, then tossed Ewa into her lap. It started. Thank some god, but not the asshole that wanted to test our faith more. We drove down through the hordes of people running around, and up a side road that took us out of the camp. This whole end of the camp had pretty much been destroyed by the bombs, and more were coming. The blasts became fainter as we drove down a forest road and then parked behind some trees.
I needed time to think and assess the situation.
I hopped out of the truck and looked in the back. There were guns, ammo, a couple of cases of dynamite and some clothes. All might come in handy somewhere down the line if we managed to really escape this camp of death.
We sat there several minutes, and about twenty people came down the road. A few were naked, and some with nothing but shorts and flimsy panties. The clothes would come in handy right now.
I waved at them and told them that there were clothes in the back and to come with us. They all hopped in the back, and as I pushed the tail gate up, one man said that the road led straight into a check point, and that we should go down another fork.
It was still dark, and difficult to see anything, and I didn’t want to turn on the lights for fear of attracting someone.
We drove for several miles to a small village and parked it behind a building off the main street, and I helped Lidie and Ewa out, and the people in the back. The back door of the building was unlocked, so we went inside. It was warmer, much warmer. Heat was coming to the back from the front, a pub with several German soldiers partying. We stayed in the back part in a side room, and huddled together, hoping that the crazy assholes up front wouldn’t come back, at least no farther than the restroom.
As the evening wore on, the pub became quiet. Some of the soldiers had left, and a few slept off their drunkenness by the fireplace that heated the place.
I came up front. The lady bartender saw me. I put my finger over my mouth, and she came back to me. I told her what had happened and that there were about twenty of us.
“What could we do?” I asked her.
“Well, first off, you can get rid of those fucking bastards sleeping around the fireplace. I would, but their bodies would be too heavy for me to lift after I killed them.”
I thought about what to do. Should I try to kill them. There were four. Surely at least one would wake up and overcome me. Maybe not if she helped me, and what do we do with the bodies. We couldn’t leave them here.
“There’s an old wood shed out back.” She said. “We can drag them out there and lock the door.”
It was gruesome for me because I had never killed someone before. We just stabbed each one in the throat, then I got a couple of the fellows in the back to help us drag them out. Of course, there was a trail of blood, and I pointed that out to the bartender.
“The fucking bastards won’t even notice that. They’re too interested in drinking and playing with the girls.”
The bartender locked the front. A large timber with hangers on each side of the door blocked it. She turned off the lights, and pulled the curtains.
“You can go upstairs. There’s several rooms up there. Mine’s on the end.”
I got Lidie and Ewa, and we went upstairs. I got all the people situated in the rooms, then talked to the bartender about what we could do if they came in the morning.
“There’s a basement, and it’s accessed by a trap door in the back room, under the table.”
She told Lidie and Ewa and me to come to her room. It was fairly large, with a fairly large bed. Lidie put Ewa in the middle, then Lidie and I slept on one side of her. The bartender dropped her clothes and climbed into a wool nightgown.
She rummaged in her closet and came out with two wool sleepers. Lidie shed her robe and put the wool gown on and covered Ewa with her robe.
We were warm. And it seemed like the hell hole we escaped from didn’t exist. We were lucky. Very lucky, for if the bombs hadn’t dropped we would probably have ended up in the trench the next day, or, at the very least, two days from now.
I put my hand on Lidie’s, and she squeezed it. We fell asleep, the best sleep we had had for the six days since we arrived at the death camp.
The banging on the door came early. The bartender herded us all down to the basement, then opened the door.
They grabbed her and pushed her over one of the tables. She screamed, and I heard the scream, and I knew they were raping her. I grabbed one of the pistols and went upstairs to find the three men huddled over the bartender.
She was naked, and the big one humped her. They had their backs to me, and I raised the pistol and shot the humper, then the other two.
The bartender grabbed her clothes. I could see her beautiful breasts, and the little belly that thrust out some, because she was pregnant. I helped her get her clothes on, and as I did, I stopped at her vagina and felt of it, and rubbed it some, but she pushed my hand away gently and kissed me.
“I’m getting out of here. I can’t take this shit anymore. This is the fourth time I’ve been rapped, and, had it not been for you, I would have just had to take it, all three of them.”
“Well, we have a truck. Where can we go to be safe?” I asked.
“We’ve got to go south into Slovakia, then into Romania. There are side roads we can take to avoid check points, then when we get to Slovakia, we’ll be safe.”
The bartender piled some food in a box, nuts, dried meat strips and some dried fruit, and everyone hopped in the back of the covered truck. Lidie, Ewa, and Jula, the bartender and I sat in the front. We drove a ways out of town, then Jula said to take a right at the fork in the road.
“There’s nothing but old farm houses, and I don’t think any check points.”
We drove for several miles across flat country, just the snow that stretched out to the mountains on the both sides of the road. Farm houses, some made of stone, and out buildings rose out of the snow like little monsters.
“I worked at the inn because I had no other thing that I could do to make any money, and it was a warm place to stay. My Mother and Father and Brother were all killed by the Germans that came to town last year. I still have a little sister. She’s in Slovakia with my Aunt. I’m hoping that I can take her with me.”
“We’ll find her.” I said.
Lidie said that she also had a brother in Slovakia. “He went there just before the Germans came to Poland, but my Mother and Father stayed. They’re safe, I think, in the north. I was rounded up, along with my little one just seven days ago, and taken to the camp.”
“Well, I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” I said. I’m from the States. My folks have a ranch in Montana.”
They both had heard of that part of the States, that it was still kind of a wild west type. I explained to them that it was about as modern as here, that there were no outlaws or posses anymore.
“I want to just get out of here, and get home. I have a little brother and sister that I miss like crazy. Had a girlfriend, but she wrote me the ‘Dear John’ letter just before I got to Poland. What a bummer. Said she couldn’t wait any longer. She had a better offer from one of her friends in high school.” I told them.
“That was a real let down, huh?” Jula said. “Gawd, what a nice present, huh?”
“Yeah, I was teaching at the University of Montana when I met her. She was just starting college. So darn cute, and she took one of my American literature classes. Anyway, that’s kinda my story.”
The road wound around a hill and up into the timber area to a small village about twenty miles from the Slovakian boarder. Jula said there was probably a check point outside the town, and there really wasn’t any way around it.
“Well, shit.” I said. “I’m gonna have to dynamite the place. Sure as hell we can’t get through there with all the people in the back.”
“Yeah.” Jula said. “You can get in behind the place, because there’s a forest behind it.”
We stopped inside the town, and parked the truck down an alley, in behind a building. I took out three sticks of dynamite, tied them together, and put a cap in one, with a short fuse, about 5 seconds worth, and I walked the short distance up the hill, and in behind the post.
“I’ll toss the dynamite right at the little post, then if any run out, I’ll knock them off. When you hear the boom, bring the truck. We don’t want to dilly dally around here.”
The dynamite hit the back of the little building, and just as one guard came out to investigate, the sticks exploded, and blew the house up and three men.
We got outta there as fast as we could, and on down the mountain. We were in Slovakia now, and probably safe from any Germans.
“Gawd,” I thought. “That was just like when Dad and I used ditch dynamite to dig irrigation ditches.”
Dad and I used quarter sticks and blew out about five feet of ditch every time. Then there was the time we blasted out tree stumps in the north pasture. Dad wanted more hay field. Half a stick blew the stump about twenty feet into the air. Clean and no roots left. We would run and get under the tractor after Dad lit the fuse, and about 10 seconds later, “Bang!” Gawd, what fun that was. Those were the times my Dad and I really had fun together.
I thought about the ranch and the life I had there. I really missed it, and I was gonna get back there come hell or high water.
“The hell with the rest of the war. I’m going home.” I thought.
Lidie was tired, so she laid her head down on my lap. I caressed her long hair, and she took my hand and gently rubbed it as I combed through her hair with my fingers. Back and forth we went together, until her hand went limp and she fell asleep.
Jula looked at me, and said softly. “You got a good one there. She must love you, and so what are you gonna do now?”
“Well, I’m going home. I don’t need this damn war anymore. What about you, Jula?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know. I’ve gotten real soured on life because of this shit war. It’s made me bitter, and I don’t really have anybody to go to. Damn.”
“Well, you wanna come to Montana?” Would be a real change of pace for you. We could always use your help.” I told her, and smiled, and her eyes lit up.
“You know I have always wanted to go to America, but I never had enough money, and I didn’t really want to leave my folks and brother. You really mean that?”
“Yup. I sure do. I hope Lidie will come. I’m really kinda attached to her right now. We could come back and find her brother after the war, and take him to Montana, if he wants.”
“Gawd. That’s really a good plan. I know 100 percent sure that Lidie will follow you anywhere.” She said. She told me when we were driving the truck to the check point that you blew up, “I think I really love him. I let him feel me just before the bombs, you know, and I just love him.”
I told her about Montana and our ranch, that we had about 600 acres, and we raised cattle and put up lots of hay every summer, and that Momma had a huge garden. We also milked cows, and sold the cream, I told her. And I ended by saying, “So we’re pretty busy, and we could sure use some extra help, and we’d even pay you.”
“No. Won’t accept any pay. After I get settled, I’ll find a job. Is there a town nearby?”
“Yeah. About ten miles in. But we do need help. I’m not just joking. We would pay you well. We make a lot of money with that ranch, and I know Mom and Dad have a pretty good savings, and besides, I’ll be teaching at the U of M, and that pays pretty well.”
“Gawd. I’m all fixed up for life, and that only took about a half hour.”
“Gawd.” She said, and chuckled. “This is getting better all the time.” Then she started crying, and the tears flowed down her face. “Oh, Gawd.” She said. “How can I be so lucky, so fortunate for something like this to happen to me?”
“Because you are an angel.” I said, and I reached over and caught one of her tears as it dripped from her cheek.
“You know what this is, this tear?”
“No.” She said.
“ It’s an angel’s tear, and my Momma once told me that if you kiss the tear of an angel you’ll have everything you want in life.”
“Oh, gawd.” She said again, and cried even more. Then she just sobbed and asked me, “Would you still fuck me, even though you have Lidie?” I mean, I really want to do it with you, and I’d ask Lidie first if it’d be okay. Would you?”
“Yes, by all means. I’d really like that, and if you told Lidie then there wouldn’t be any lies or cheating on her.”
“Yeah. Okay. Maybe after we get all settled, huh?”
Lidie woke up, and sat up, and shook her head, as if to shake off the sleep.
“You can fuck her all you want. I heard everything you guys said, and it’s okay with me. After all, we’ve all been through hell, and we should reward ourselves with good stuff. In fact, we could all just sleep together, maybe, huh? I love both of you.”
Gawd. This was getting better and better. Here, I had practically nothing in my life except a little love from Lidie, and now I had a whole crew. I mean, what more could I ask for in this life, but to have to beautiful women to love for the rest of my life.
“Guess what, Lidie?” Know where we’re going?” Julia asked.
“Well, I hope as far away as we can get from this damn war.”
“Well, it is far away alright. Tell her, Binger.”
They both looked at me.
“Oh, we’re gonna go to places unknown. Here and there, and everywhere. Maybe over there, and maybe just there, and maybe under there. “ I said, teasing them.
Then I blurted out, and looked right at Lidie. “You’re going to Montana, and so is Jula. In fact, Lidie, you’re gonna be my wife, if you want me.”
“She looked at me as though she couldn’t believe it, like I was making some kind of joke, and she put her hand on the wheel.
“Okay.” She said. “Stop the truck.”
I stopped.
“Now.” She said. “You ask me real proper like, and if I like how you say it, I’ll kinda thump you on the head. That will be the sign that I’m gonna think on it.”
So, I took both of her hands. “Lidie will you please marry me?”
She thumped me on the head.
“Okay, I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll have an answer tomorrow, maybe not. Maybe next week. Maybe sometime when the moon comes over the mountain. Maybe when the cat drags in something. Or, just plain maybe.” Lidie went on.
Jula chuckled.
“What do you think, Jula. Should I marry somebody like this? He’s kinda foreign like.” Lidie said.
“Oh, I don’t know, Lidie. I probably would if I were in your shoes. But I got other dreams, and I’m gonna milk cows.”
“That’s it.” Lidie said.
“What’s it?” Ewa asked, as she woke up.
“Oh. Ewa. Guess what?”
“What?”
We’re gonna milk some cows.”
“Where are the cows? I don’t see any cows.”
You don’t because they’re in Montana.”
Where’s Montana?”
The conversation continued, back and forth with Lidie and Ewa.
I took Lidie’s hand and squeezed it. She leaned over and kissed me and whispered in my ear.
I love you, and, yes, I’ll marry you.”
“I heard that, Mommy. You gonna marry him? Why him? He doesn’t have any cows.
The end

 

("...it reads well, and is very readable..." went the goblin appreciating the thoughts that lingered in his mind form it, then asking "...do you intend to do a new thread each time for each work, or keep it to one thread with new works posted upon it...")