Bruski, Ed | Paperback / softback | 18-01-2024 | 9789463451697 |
Levertijd 5 dagen

Motivated by career ambition the wife of middle-aged Mood decided to break up the family and leave him with bringing up their two boys. After a year the strain of hs teaching job and domestic chores without a mother to help got to him and he decided to get away from it all with a year’s paid leave of absence. He boarded a futuristic hydrocosmic interplanetary liner to set sail for Earth’s doppelganger Planet-II–And he ran into Nara at the bar! She was almost a generation younger and could’ve been his daughter. She was inteliigent with plenty of uninhibited sharp humor–an’ charmin wit. Soon she was sharin his more comfortable compartment. For a month’s sailing flight they had a ripping time. The sex grew into a fabulous world more than a fantasy one. Both were on the rebound. Their suffering emotions mingled magnificently. He never had it so good in bed with anyone else in his life–and that was only the wife. A perfect splashdown had’m hydroplane-skimmin t’Lundonjon where he planned t’settle but he ended up following her t’romantic Leucotecia. They got there in a marathon ride in the back seat of Greek El Greco’s antique Chevy Deluxer. After an exciting two weeks she left for the south t’Playa Pretti on the Bleu Zee and he madly missed her and followed after her. In a rented flat behind the Ste Repaire Cathedral in the Old Quarter near the Old Port he grew a goatee and long hair and started t’talk hip like his cool students and shared a strange nonadmitted tortuous love with Nara. But he soon came t’anguish over leavin his two boys behind and as importantly questioning whether Nara was a femme fatale with her long list of lovers. She made him so jealous he hit the wine bottle t’excess. A talkin church pidgeon with one-leg he met on his kitchenette window ledge came t’his aid–An unbelievable talkin pidgeon who was nicknamed Nietz and who in fact was Fritz Nietzsche incarnated. Shrink-psychoanlytical sessions help him conquer his emotions and come t’his senses–But not without plenty of anguish…