Read Online The Cube People by Christian McPherson - Free Book Online

mean trashy. I just don’t enjoy science fiction.”
    â€œ 1984 , Brave New World , those are great books, no?”
    â€œThey’re okay.”
    â€œOkay, 1984 is just okay ?”
    â€œHoney,” she tries to soothe. “Listen, if you don’t want to look for another job, then you’ll just have to keep writing and hoping for the best. I’m just not sure science fiction is the way to go.”
    â€œFine.”
    â€œYou’re mad.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYes you are, I can tell.”
    â€œWhatever, let’s just try to enjoy the meal.”
    We switch topics to going to see a film. So we hit the Bytowne Cinema after dinner and see some Italian comedy that neither Sarah nor I find particularly funny. We arrive home and another rejection letter is waiting in the mailbox. I’m pissed. I strip naked in the hall and tell Sarah to get undressed. I fuck her angrily and the sex is great. After I pull out, she moves into an upside-down bicycle. I find a bottle of wine and crack it open. I pour two glasses and sit naked in the dark in the living room. I wonder if I’m ever going to make it. In this moment, I foresee my life as a series of endless little tasks: tie your shoes, wait for the elevator, do your job, fuck your wife as you are told to. Sarah appears wearing just panties. Her beauty strikes me in such a way that it throws me off kilter, as if somebody called out my name for a prize I didn’t even know I was nominated for. She grabs her glass off the coffee table as she sits beside me.
    â€œIt will happen.”
    â€œThe book or the baby?”
    â€œBoth,” she says.
    Day 13
    It’s Saturday and I’m hungover, as I’m sure Sarah is, too. Whenever I’m hungover, all I want to do is screw and drink chocolate milkshakes. I smell Sarah’s armpit and Marvin springs to life – I’m a rock.
    â€œCome on baby, day thirteen,” I tell her. She still has her eyes closed, but I can tell she’s awake.
    â€œJust get on me and do it, I’m not moving.”
    I pump away for some time, probably only about seven minutes before I finish. Sarah seems to be enjoying it near the end. When I pull out, she spins around and puts her legs up on the wall and says, “God, your breath is fucking awful.”
    â€œThanks, sexy,” I say smiling and happy.
    â€œMake me a coffee, will you?”
    I walk to the bathroom and piss away my morning erection. As I pass by the bedroom doorway on my way to the kitchen, I ask, “French toast?’
    â€œSure,” she says, her feet still planted on the wall.
    Day 14
    We go to our friends’ place for brunch. They’re big potheads; my characters Dean and Marsha in Hungry Hole are modelled after them. I suspect that they are stoned when we get there, but I don’t think I could really tell either way. They are admitted chronics. They’ve just gotten used to being high all the time, and now they act just as normal as anyone else. Strange. We spend the rest of the afternoon touring the market, picking up a horn-of-plenty satchel of goods.
    Arriving home, Sarah has a bath while I hit the kitchen to embark on food preparations. I’m slicing ginger for a chicken stir-fry when Sarah materializes in the kitchen doorway wearing unbelievably sexy red lingerie with black high heels.
    â€œCome get some,” she purrs.
    I put down my knife and go get some.
    Day 15
    I arrive home late, almost 7:30, after a day of computer problems at the office. Sarah left work early today because she felt so lousy, and has been home alone for hours. The place looks like a dirty laundry bomb went off.
    â€œHow’s it going baby?” I ask her.
    â€œI feel just fucking awful on the drugs. I stood up at my desk and thought I was going to pass out. People say that all the time but I’m not kidding you. My vision went blurry and I lost my balance. It was really