She Came in Through the Bathroom Window

By Frank G Schafer

Frank G Schafer, author of the novel Sammy and a number of Short Story Collections brings us another one of his Dime Store Novels. This one as surreal as it is funny. What could a beautiful, twenty-three-year-old, and a sixty-nine-year-old codger, possibly have in common. Apparently, more than you might think. Can you say Kama Sutra? Hang out with the protagonist "G", as he tries to navigate, through his new reality. His life is turned upside-down. Nothing is the way it's supposed to be. If you're close to sixty-nine, think Twilight Zone. If you're closer to twenty-three, think Netflix - Black Mirror. Whichever you are, you won't be able to put this book down.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543978391

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©2019 Frank G. Schafer

Print ISBN: 978-1-54397-838-4

eBook ISBN: 978-1-54397-839-1

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This short story collection and/or novelette is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, quotations, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other names, characters, places, and all dialogue and incidents portrayed in these stories are the product of the author’s imagination.

For the lovely Linda.

For my children, Becky, Teri and Frank

For my grandchildren, Nicki, Seanna, Sebastien

and especially, in this case, Coryn, who created the art for the fabulous front cover of this book.

Thank you Coryn

She Came in Through the Bathroom Window

Somehow, I forced my eyes open. Laying there on my bed, I tried to gather my senses. Slowly I realized where I was, like a fog lifting or something. I was in my bed in the Step-ford like town of Happyfield. I remembered the night before. I got up to use the bathroom. As I stepped onto the short hardwood hall that was adjacent to the stairway, I slipped and went tumbling down the hard-oak steps, smashing my head on the plaster wall at the bottom. So, how did I get back up here? I know I was alone last night because I live alone now, a very lonely, alone

My life had become wretched, a joke actually. I was about to turn sixty-nine, and although I was reasonably fit, had a full head of hair, and a working libido, my personal life was in ruins. My girlfriend of eight years found her pickleball instructor a tad more interesting than me. It was a quick separation. She came into the house and just blurted it out. Remember how you were always jokingly accusing me of running off to be with my pickleball instructor. Well, today I decided to take you up on it. She saw the tears in my eyes. She had none. I was devastated to see her being this cold. Not my Catherine. Not my Cat, as I called her, she was the sweetest kindest person I had ever met.

She ran upstairs and rustled around for about five minutes, while I laid on the couch sobbing. When she came down, she stood there for a moment with her big suitcase in her hand. She was a bit red in the face with a few beads of sweat on her forehead. Even like that, she was a beauty for sure. Short dark hair, perfect Hedy Lamarr face still quite a figure for a fifty-six-year-old woman.

I sprang to my feet and held her sobbing, Please don’t leave me like this. This is not you. Please tell me it’s a dream. By this time Harriett joined us, which was her custom. She wouldn’t let us hug without jumping up to join in with us. A three-way we called this. Little did she know this would be her last three-way.

It’s no dream. I’m leaving you for the pickleball guy. Get used to the idea. And don’t worry, remember how you’re always saying, ‘the next ones always better’. You’ll find someone, I’m sure. Now pull yourself together. I’ll collect the rest of my stuff in a few days. And with that, she put the leash on Harriet, and they walked out on me.

When she first started playing this pickle ball, she bugged me to join in. I very well may have if not for my second knee replacement surgery that didn’t go as well as the first. I remember fretting over my condition because I had always been an athlete. Fifty years a runner, thirty years of racket ball. I so wanted to play this pickleball thing with Cat, who was twelve years my junior.

When I met her, we were on an equal footing, physically that is. I was still running, and whacking that racquetball, which was my favorite sport to play. I only had slight pain in my right knee in those days. Now, both of my knees have been replaced. I’ve gone from working physically in my own Home Improvement company. These