Clerical Error

By Rebecca Milton

If there was a time when a person stood on a pier and tossed into the sea a bottle with a note written in a neat hand on a single sheet of paper and someone, on another part of the world, the beach where that pier may be attached, found the bottle, would that be fate?

If you were a man throwing the bottle what would you think? If you were a woman who, on a three week vacation paid for in advance, found that bottle on a sunrise walk, would you think it was kismet?

What about if the throwing, finding, throwing, finding happened every day of the three week vacation you were on? Would that help you forget the failed relationship that sent you on the three week vacation?

Would that make you forget the dismal dull pain of a recurring clerical error?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AmorBooks.com
• Release date: Jan 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005556280

Rebecca Milton

Rebecca Milton writes sizzling erotica and romance for the thinking person. On her free time she enjoys taking her Alaskan Malamute for long, long walks. He enjoys it too.

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Clerical Error

by

Rebecca Milton

Copyright 2022 Rebecca Milton

Distributed by Smashwords

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When I was young, a child, at that age of asking why and how come and what if, I recall asking my parents how I came to be.

We were sitting around the dinner table, myself, my mother, and my father, eating a casserole of chicken and rice that I didn’t care for and - though I didn’t learn this until much later in my life - my father utterly hated. My mother made this dish for dinner when she was angry with my father and wanted to punish him in some small, niggling way.

There was a policy in the family: whatever mom made for dinner, we ate. Why? Because mom worked hard and put three meals a day on the table for us, and that kind of dedication and consistency deserved, at the very least, appreciation and consumption. So, there we sat, father and I choking down the white, creamish casserole of chicken and soggy rice. It is one of my first real memories.

By real, I mean I knew what was what. I knew who my parents were, I knew that dinner was dinner, I knew to eat and say nothing about the condition of the food, I knew things. Some things. I also had a thirst for more knowledge. So, I was at the asking stage.

I knew there was a problem because my mother asked my father three times if he was enjoying the meal. My