Pieces of Me - A Collection of Essays

By Valerie J Runyan

"PIECES OF ME" Is my collection of Personal Narratives, some Fiction and a few Poems, because writers write all kinds of things- Enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Valerie J Runyan
• Release date: Apr 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201995560

Valerie J Runyan

Valerie J. Runyan started writing in Los Angeles, where she grew up. She raised her two adult children in Las Vegas, where she also took up photography. She started her first blog and first podcast outside of Houston. She has returned to Las Vegas to continue her writing and publishing journey.

Book preview

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough

Name a mountain, any mountain; Fuji, Kilimanjaro, or Everest- well, I tried to climb one last week called Technology.

There is nothing worse than having equipment and only a vague idea of how to use it, but you got it because it was the cool thing to have- besides, everybody else has it.

So, you discretely ask some of your fellow climbers how they are using this thing, of course you get different answers, none being I don’t know, either.

Just when you’re really wishing you had printed out that receipt, suddenly on your screen appears; the Leader, the Guru, the Tech Guy who tells you that you’re not supposed to wrap the cord around your neck- because there is no place to hang yourself here, anyway.

And just like every single sage tech guru you have ever heard, seen, or read about in Fiction, Non Fiction and Sci Fi Fantasy- you are literally trying your damnedest to decipher what they are saying to you, repeatedly.

But any tech guy worth his headset and microphone will use; similes, metaphors, analogies and good old fashioned curse words to get your ass up the summit, so that you can be astounded at the view of whatever the hell you were trying to look at on the screen that is in front of you- mission accomplished!

An Evening with Veronica

She gets ready for her shift at 10pm, on a summer weeknight in Las Vegas, Nevada by choosing a light grey men’s large Hanes tank top and a pair of dark grey men’s Hanes large boxer briefs.

She prefers men’s underwear, because they are more accommodating of her large boobs, wide hips and slightly uneven not quite round butt.

She strokes onto her brown skin including over her bald head, Elizabeth Taylor’s White Diamonds body lotion, to get into the mood for work, she not only loves the scent but the fact, that this is one of the rare fragrances that stays on her unusually dry skin, because of the emollients that are friendly for her skin type.

She was quite pleased earlier today, that the nail technician at her favorite beauty salon had the extremely popular purple sparkle nail polish she preferred, who then voiced disappointment with her for only wanting the French Tip Mani-Pedi treatment, after being persistently nagged that the premium color be re-ordered.

She plugs in the fifty foot long phone cord, into the wall jack behind her living room floor lamp, with the three round glass tiers decreasing in size toward the floor.

The palm sized square number keypad with its convenient mute button that, she uses liberally while eating, drinking or yawning, the headset microphone fitted for her left ear, is always connected, which she just wraps around the keypad when her shift is done.

Dinner tonight will be, cold veggie spiral pasta, tossed with imitation lobster salad, paired with her favorite Cabernet Sauvignon brand because of the dark chocolate cherry taste, which she has chilled in the fridge from yesterday’s grocery delivery, this will be her drink throughout her shift, using her work wine glass a friend made for her, that she puts back in the fridge after her shift.

She walks barefoot across her living room and opens the front door to the cool night air, she breathes deeply and smiles at the sound of unseen crickets talking to one another, she locks the screen door feeling completely safe, living in her cul-de-sac of seven houses.

It is quite amusing to her, that in two minutes she will be winding up for her work shift, while her neighbors are winding down from their own work shifts, or whatever they do with their daylight hours, she takes another deep breath, and exhales slowly to center herself, and fall into her Phone Actress character Veronica for the next eight hours.

Veronica is 5’4, around 110 pounds, has shoulder blade length red curly hair, with hazel eyes, and freckles all over her tanned toned body, she is a yoga instructor, and studying to be a chef, she has a female roommate, and they live in Santa Monica, California within walking distance to the beach.

She carries her dinner container and glass of wine, over to her loveseat and folds her legs underneath herself, puts on her headset, sets the keypad down beside her, takes a sip of wine, punches in the code to plug into the computer system of the Adult Talk Line.

She hears the first beep, then the second beep, she has until the third beep to answer the line, which on the other end, will be a male voice, or more accurately a male breathing hard, on the verge of orgasm, who wants to hear a female voice to send him over the edge, she takes another sip of wine, closes her eyes, and becomes Veronica.

When she plugs back into the system after thirty minutes for lunch the beeping pace becomes relentless, with the calls lasting on average three to five minutes.

With males breathing hard, groaning and panting on the edge of orgasm, she breathes hard, groans and pants with them, while verbally pushing them over the edge, with her own fake orgasm.

During most of those calls, she would press her mute button, to eat some Pistachio Honey ice cream while leaning against the fridge, water her yellow and white miniature potted roses on her bedroom windowsill, use the bathroom and make a mental note to get more toilet paper, sip her dark chocolate cherry Cabernet Sauvignon wine, and write.

She used to care about her minute average affecting her paycheck, but when she renewed her contract she opted for an hourly wage, now she works as many or as few hours as she wants, basically a free agent without benefits, with this latitude she is writing her collection of poetry.

Without looking at the Roman Numeral living room wall clock, she knows it is close to quitting time, because the beeps have become fewer and farther between, also they have become a series of clicks as soon as they hear