Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“My new job?”
“Yes, your new job working for Samuel.” Mirna took one last look at my reflection and sighed with satisfaction. “It will be good for you. Give you a chance to clean your soul, start fresh.”
“Is that even possible?” I asked, but I wasn’t sure if I was directing the question at her or me. “What if the stains are too great?”
“No, you’ll see. It’s the stains that make us human,” she said, and with that I fell a little more in love with my grandmother. “I tell you what, you go water the plants while I go and find that meditation book for you. When you’re done, you can meet me in the backyard. We are going to have our first meditation session, and you are going to focus on the future and what you want out of life. We’re gonna clean that soul you think is so dirty.”
Mirna could try her damnedest, but I was pretty sure that a soul as dirty as mine would need a lot more than some new clothes and meditation to be cleaned. I pointed to the stranger in the mirror, a girl who looked like she ALMOST had it together, I muttered, “At this point, bleach might be a lot more useful than a book on meditation.”
Maybe I’d ask Preppy about how to clean a dirty soul, because although Mirna had enlightened me as to what he’d done for her, she hadn’t seen his eyes up on the tower.
None of it made sense. A guy who helps old ladies in their time of need couldn’t possibly be the monster I thought he was. Maybe he didn’t have a dirty soul, after all.
Maybe it was just me.
* * *
Later that day, Mirna gave me my first lesson in meditation. I was sans shoes in the grass, but every so often I’d open one eye and check to make sure they were still on the deck where I’d placed them, lovingly, in the shade.
We sat Indian style across from one another in front of her flower box, our hands on our knees, palms up. Oscar grunted around the backyard. Both Mirna and even Preppy seemed to care for the animal, so much that I’d yet to ask why the heck my grandma had an enormous pig as a pet, but when he nudged my shoulder with his dirty wet nose I shooed him away, pretending to be annoyed at his interruption. I placed my index finger across my lips and Oscar got the message, trotting back up to the fence and sniffing under the gate, like a dog smelling for other animals. Were all pigs that smart?
I took a deep breath and attempted to rein in my thoughts and concentrate on the meditation. Mirna’s chin was tipped up toward the warm sun, her famous cat eyes were simple perfection in the bright light that made her wrinkled, yet flawless skin, look as if it were glowing.
Unable to help myself, I snuck another peek toward the back deck to check on my new shoes for the hundredth time, and for a second my heart stopped beating. One was missing. I was about to bolt to the neighbors house to call 911, or the fire department, or poison control, or the president himself, when a shadow fell over me. I shrieked and tried to jump away, but he grabbed me by the arm and held me down. I fell sideways across the intruders lap, all the while Mirna remained in her meditative pose.
The intruder laughed. And I glanced up to find Preppy holding the missing heel over my head.
“Nice shoes, wanna fuck?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PREPPY
What in the fuck was she wearing? Her dress was hugging her tiny waist and pushing out her tits, and suddenly it was as if I’d gone deaf because all I could hear was the blood rushing to my cock. Everything in me was shouting at me to bend this girl over and fuck her until we both fucking DIED.
I didn’t care that Mirna was sitting right there. I didn’t care if the Pope and the Dalai Lama were watching on the sidelines with Jesus himself. All I wanted was to see that glossy red lipstick smeared all over my motherfucking cock.
Rein it in shit-head. I scolded myself, you have more important things to be focusing on, other than her tits.
But those tits…
It looked like Mirna had roped in another one. I was glad too because as much as I liked her, when she’d insisted on teaching me to meditate I mostly played a recap of American Ninja Warrior in my head until she told me we were done. Her current pupil had been shocked and amazed by how good I fucking looked and had fainted across my lap, unable to get a grip on her swoon.