A Very Strange Vacation

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story I'm working on in a mythos for short stories I'm going to compile into a book. The setup is that all the characters from mythologies around the world existed in a forgotten age and how average characters with identifiable problems have run in from a few survivors in a mythical age. If anyone has the time read two pages I would like to know what they think. I just don't know if I have any talent as a writer.

Submitted: July 24, 2017

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Submitted: July 24, 2017

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A Very Unusual Vacation

 

by Matthew Bissonnette

 

 

 

 

 

The most unusual and unbelievable vacation I never expected began when I turned to my wife Jenny and said loudly, “OK, I admit our marriage has been on the rocks ever since I retired.”

I and my wife had a argument, the same argument we had been having regularly ever since I retired from the agency, against the backdrop of the majestic pyramids of Giza.

My name was Richard McCalister, and man of sixty five who by appearance was an older gentleman with my usually well groomed blonde hair some some streaks of gray in it and dressed predictably in beige pants and a white button up shirt. I was the son of a father who had raised me and I had spent my childhood in some nameless, bland suburb of America during the Eisenhower period of the fifties. He molded me so that when I grew up and was not much different then him. I spent most of my life selling insurance for an insurance agency while my wife tended to the home. And like the way I dressed, my life up until the point I retired had been dull and predictable. I and my wife Jenny had two sons who had coincidentally had left the nest around the same time I retired; and now we would see them at most twice a year. Ever since retirement; I and my wife just remained alone in our bland home in the suburbs of Chicago. With no career or any children to give fatherly advice to aside from the occasional phone call, I had been grappling with a feeling of uselessness ever since I retired. Since my career ended, I did nothing but hide in my makeshift office in the basement and construct models of battleships and World War 2 era fighter planes; two years and already I was running out of space for my completed projects. But since I retired, I and my wife Jenny had increasingly regular arguments. Jenny, my high school sweet heart who was the only woman I had ever been with, had been a housewife and a mother to my sons. Ever since I retired, I don't know, I just felt like hiding in my office in the basement.

So how did I end up in Egypt having that argument with Jenny which would land I and her into a strange, surreal predicament?

For our anniversary, I decided to go where we had gone on our honeymoon; Egypt. We did not talk much on the plane, we did not talk much at the hotel when we checked in; and we did not talk and then start to argue until we where in a tour group to the Great Pyramids. She said that I was hiding in the basement and ignoring her by tinkering with models which set me off; and that was how the argument started.

Jenny; who was 63, still to me at least was somewhat attractive. She had shoulder length blond hair and blemish-less skin though now had on glasses and always had an attire which consisted of a fashionable sweater and skirt. Like in her youth; she always preferred tight, form fitting sweaters which accentuated her breasts.

As the others in the tour group tried to ignore us argue by taking pictures of the Pyramids as we stood in a vast desert; I looked at my wife and had an expression which made some resentment I felt obvious.

Jenny frowned and asked, “do you do anything else other then hide in your little room and tinker with your little toy boats?”

“Wait,” I said loudly, “constructing models is a respectable hobby and they are not toys! But I don't you can appreciate something, the only thing lately that makes me happy anymore!”

Jenny sighed deeply. “Why Richard don't you ask me if I'm happy right now, but I doubt if you care about anything other then your hobby?”

Then from behind us spoke a very feminine, yet firm voice and it made us stop fighting.

“Miss, if your husband is spending all his free time which apparently he has to much of with a pointless hobby then I know how you feel.”

We turned and that was when we saw the other couple.

The woman who had spoke seemed in her thirties; and her dark complexion and appearance hinted that she was from this region. She had very dark, long hair in braids and very heavy blue makeup around her eyes. She was wearing an elegant white dress which sparkled in the blistering sun which shown down from the desert. She was looking at Jenny.

Then the man beside her looked at me and asked, “mister, is your wife trying to insult the only thing you have left which makes you feel at all useful?”

The man, around the same age as the woman, also had a similar complexion which I thought meant he was a local. He had a shaven head and was wearing a brown leather jacket and jeans.

Instinctively, I extended my hand and politely said, “I'm Richard and she is my wife Jenny.”

The man frowned as he looked at me then shook my hand after several moments. “I'm Ossi and this is my dear yet nag of a wife Iris.”

The woman, who I guess was Iris, was looking at him with an expression which indicated she was growing upset. “Nag, do you at all recall how many times your nag of a wife was there for you or how many times she fished you out of that river after having a disagreement with your brother?”

The man, Ossi, did not look at her as he replied, “I know your majesty, you never let me forget. But after since I lost ownership of that land our father left us, I would hope you loved me enough to just left me enjoy my carvings.”

Jenny looked at Iris and asked, “is your husband also wasting all his time with a pointless craft and neglecting the woman he loves.”

 

 


© Copyright 2017 Matthew Bissonnette. All rights reserved.

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