11/2009

Some Relationships Simply Don’t Last

November 7, 2009
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Some Relationships Simply Don’t Last

Written by Lilith Raymour The Professor took off his glasses and wiped them. He had been thinking of his housekeeper. So erotic, especially last night. She let him do anything and everything he wanted. “I’m glad my wife’s away for the week. She’d never understand.” He had a hard time as he interviewed students about their papers and their desires to get better grades. The girls were the most annoying. He was devoted to his wife: he could never cheat on her; especially with some young thing looking for good grades. Well, except with the housekeeper. The day seemed to wear slowly and before he eventually picked up his briefcase at 6; walked out to the staff’s lot, and climbed into his Lexus. He had grown stiff from fantasizing about the housekeeper. It was dark as he approached the house except his bedroom. He had left a light on. He threw his briefcase on the kitchen table and went upstairs. In his room he imagined he could hear her screams for mercy, but that was impossible. She was locked into the closet and tied down tight so she wouldn’t escape. He imagined her pleading for mercy, telling him she deserved…

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Housekeepers

November 6, 2009
By
Housekeepers

Written by Namraknec “Don’t just slap those papers on the desk and prop up your feet. Did you grade them yet?” “No, Ma’am.” “Don’t you ‘Ma’am’ me. You spiff up those papers right now. I expect your grading to be spic n span. If you work hard, put your nose to the good grade grind stone, maybe you’ll be a Housekeeper someday.” “OK, but I doubt that. I don’t have the experience for that pay grade. I spent my college years smoking pot, drinking and having someone write my papers for me as much as possible. Besides, everyone knows that practical experience; and doing the manual labor that has to be done to keep society flowing, deserves more pay than professors, or writers, or entertainers, or politicians. That’s why housekeepers, gravediggers, sanitation workers, attendants at 24 hour gas stations who risk their lives night after night, ditch diggers, handymen and women earn more than someone like me.” “But remember, Professor, anyone can succeed if they work hard enough.” “Yes, you’re right. And that’s the way it should be. Imagine a world where people who do work that really doesn’t have to be done earn more. How insane. I imagine more…

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The Professor

November 5, 2009
By
The Professor

Written by Millie Jenny C. She woke up suddenly. What had startled her awake? She had no idea, but there she was awake. She looked at the clock. It was a good forty-five minutes earlier than when the alarm would normally ring. She thought, if I go back to sleep, I will feel worse. . . She stumbled to get her coffee made, shower taken and face on for the upcoming day. Off she went. On the way to work in her powder blue Mazda 323, well beyond its days she thought, I just know that Professor is going to have a gigantic mess as usual. She fumed as she flew on through the first yellow light quickly changing to red. Glancing behind her she watched for blue lights. Good, no officer of the law this time, she had forgotten to look. Thats all she needed on a Monday morning. She was still unsure if having 2 wheels in the intersection would be good enough to avoid a ticket. Now as she blew through the second intersection, she cursed. She did not see the white car that was now following her with the siren & blue lights flashing. Now she…

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Double Duty

November 4, 2009
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Double Duty

Written by Sennebec “How did it go? Professor Syndic Mahoney set his coffee cup on the tan napkin beside his freshly emptied plate and discharged a discrete burp. Lordy Perfesser, I wish you coulda been a bird in a tree, Words wont hardly describe what a ruckus the whole event was. Flora McGonicle brushed imaginary crumbs off her apron before grabbing the dirty plate and heading for the soapstone sink in the kitchen. When she returned, her employer raised an inquisitive eyebrow, indicating she should join him at the table while she caught him up on her unexpected trip to West Montgomery, VT., the town she had left nearly thirty years ago. The previous Friday Flora had picked up the hall telephone on the second ring, only to learn that her stepfather had passed away unexpectedly while defending his title for the twentieth time in the Florn County cow chip toss at the Montgomery Agricultural Fair. The funeral would be on Sunday with burial next to his first wife in the town cemetery. While Professor Mahoney found the idea of being interred next to Floras stepmother a tad odd, he had kept his opinion to himself, instead making arrangements for…

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The Housekeeper and the Professor

November 3, 2009
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The Housekeeper and the Professor

Written by Ken Carman She sang softly as she dusted off the old phone booth that had been dismantled from its location in England and brought back to the office she was cleaning. Her thoughts were pleasant, casual, although she knew… “So much to do today. Must not think about it now. Just relax. Ah, this booth is a pain. Professors are so eccentric. A phone booth in an office. How odd. How interesting. But this job would be easier if this booth wasn’t here.” Dust here. Dust there. She was really good at cleaning. She knew all too well that professors needed things to be spotless so when they come back from class they could mindlessly dump papers to grade on their desks. It annoyed her a bit that well dusted, wiped, ordered papers on the desk, tables, shelves, now immaculate old books, pictures, awards, degrees on the wall would soon be a mess again. Then, next morning, she would once more do her duty and get it ready to be made messy again. Such was the job of being “housekeeper.” A professor can’t be as perfect when it comes to being “clean” as she could be. Everyone has…

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The Professor and the Housekeeper

November 3, 2009
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The Professor and the Housekeeper

Written by Ken Carman The days had been growing progressively darker when they arrived that late autumn day at the Professor’s doorstep. Time was short and growing shorter, this… everyone knew. The media had been splattering the reason all over the news and the talk shows, so violence and looting had become ho hum: mundane. Still, a good portion of humanity hoped; according to their belief or lack of belief, that God, or Science, or fate would save them, though the gentle glow of such hope within the hearts of humanity was growing more and more a dying ember with the increasing darkness. Ring. Ring. “He won’t answer,” the patrolman said. “The housekeeper told the University he was sick; caught the new flu they discovered last year that we got from our pets. Kind of like how they say the swine flu jumped; probably because God was punishing us for our sins, or like he did with AIDS for tolerating Homos. Bet God’s still got that thing mutating. Bet he’s even keeping eggheads like the professor from finding a cure. My minister, Brother William, tells me God’s really mad at us. Hope they die first. Eh, I think such eggheads…

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The Professor’s Former Housekeeper

November 2, 2009
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The Professor’s Former Housekeeper

Written by Ye Olde Scribe “I wish my mother hadn’t married this creepy old professor. His office is always so musty, groady and, ewe, gross. Have to hold my nose and…” Door opened. “Wow! The old guy really spiffed up! Or did he finally get that housekeeper he kept talkin about? So coooooooolllll! No crumbs on the floor. Everything in order. Even smells good. Like… oh, yuck. What’s that? A fucking roach! That’s the biggest roach I’ve ever seen.” So he stepped on it. Looking around he saw a few new pictures of his mother and the professor. Then, just as he noticed another new picture in the corner, behind him he heard a loud gasp… “What in hell’s name have you done?” “Nothin, Prof dude. I just came here to give you the sandwich Mom made for you. Hey, are you into ‘kinky’ or something? Don’t worry, I won’t tell Mom.” “No. The picture was of my housekeeper. That’s how she came in when she was interviewed for the job. Why do you think my office is so clean?” “Wait. Wait. I don’t know what picture you’re talking about. I’m talking about the one with the roach I just…

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In This Month’s Lutin Muse…

November 2, 2009
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…along with the usual prose and poetry, some writers will be sending us a project started by The Writer’s Group, out of Nashville, TN. Different prose, different poetry, haiku… but all based on a single theme. So this month we welcome contributions from members of The Writer’s Group, and our regular writers, as they put their own special spin on: The Professor and the Housekeeper

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———–Lutin Muse———

November 1, 2009
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———–Lutin Muse———

The LT Saloon Lutin Muse Literary Journal, November 2009

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November Edition 2009

November 1, 2009
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November Edition 2009

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