Smorgasbord 2: Catch Up & Relish

By Francis Joseph LaManna

Here it is, the sequel and true continuation of the original work, Smorgasbord. So much so that if you put Smorgasbord and Smorgasbord 2 together, they would make one complete book.

You didn't think I would leave you hanging, did you? There's too much going on, too much to write about, and now, it's time for you to catch up.

Are you a man who likes wearing pink and getting your eyebrows done? That's okay, find yourself a quiet spot, and get comfortable in your favorite chair. Ladies, put your work boots on and relish the moment, or go back in time with Foster as he becomes the main attraction in a witch's breeding ritual.

Yes, there's poetry inside, and yes, this will be another crazy compilation, but that's only a portion of what this smorgasbord has on display.

Maureen and Gary Hashman are back in another "Short Story of Good and Evil," Anne Devereux becomes the Warrior Queen after running away from home to escape her abusive mother, and Alien KB312479 visits Earth to conduct a study on the relationship between words and numbers. Creating this was a lot of fun, and you'll have just as much fun reading it.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639850013

Book preview

SMORGASBORD

2

Catch Up and Relish

Francis Joseph LaManna

Copyright © 2021 Francis Joseph LaManna

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2021

ISBN 978-1-63985-000-6 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63985-001-3 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Acknowledgments

IV

Introduction

Witches in Heat

Love, Acceptance, and People Today

Alien Interpretation

Baby Syndrome

Fear

I Love You

Does It Even Matter

Witches in Heat 2

Self-Actualization

V

Extremely, Technically, and Literally It

Dichotomy: A Short Story of Good and Evil (Part 2)

Magical

Relationships

The Lover King

Your World, My World

Two Amazing Discoveries

Role-Play

Anne Devereux the Warrior Queen

Reincarnation

VI

Playing the Role

Stupid’s Jealous Tailspin

Opportunities and Change

Sexual Exploration

The Dialogue between Mark and Tina

Gold

Helter-Skelter Native Swelter: A Prophetic Utterance

Age of Aquarius

Twenty-21

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank those who have a sincere interest in me and the content I produce. With love and appreciation, I dedicate this book to all of you. I would also like to thank my parents for their endless support, and Fulton Books for bringing me in as an author and putting my books on display for the world to see. I’d like to thank my publishing assistant, Matthew Quiring, for his hard work and commitment to not one, but two manuscripts now. And finally, I’d like to recognize and thank Suzanne McQuane for believing in me and my writing. You told me everything would work out, and you were right. This book is also dedicated to my nephew and newest member of the family, Noah. May he keep a copy of Smorgasbord and Smorgasbord 2 always and pass them on from generation to generation.

IV

Introduction

With all effort and sincere attempt, I live in the moment. I believe everything I’ve done up to this point—be it work, relationships, or personal research—all of it has prepared me for this moment. Ultimately, there is a place I’m going to, a destination if you will, and no, I’m not talking about the grave. And no, this isn’t necessarily a fatalistic outlook. It will be a place of living content, a place where I can look at myself in the mirror and tell myself I’m satisfied. Everything I do from now and up to that point will have prepared me for that moment as well. Every day, every month, and every year is filled with experience. Every day, every month, and every year is filled with lessons, some we laugh at, some we cry about, and some break us down—emotionally, physically, spiritually, and mentally; they deplete us. What’s it all about, you ask? It’s about you, one day, becoming the master of your domain. It’s about you standing on top of the hill, standing in your living room, or standing in front of your bedroom mirror knowing you can do something no one else can. You specialize. You’re special because you’ve done something no one else did, and you’ll continue doing those things. If not the grave, then where does it end? It ends when you’re priceless. It ends when you can never be compensated enough for what you do. It ends when people say, It will be a long time before another Francis Joseph LaManna walks this earth. And then, it’s time to play.

In terms of humanity, who we are, where we came from, and how we got here—we don’t really know; and in our attempt to solve this dilemma, we promised not to speculate. The last thing we want to do is cloud the picture with assumptions, opinions, and falsities. I did, however, say in my first book we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be, and I can prove it. So here goes.

A good friend of mine got married around 2007. As a wedding gift, he gave all his friends a personalized gym bag. Pretty cool, right? I thought so. It had my last name threaded into it and everything. Above my last name was the brand, the maker of the bag. It was a single name that started with the letter G or O, I don’t remember exactly. Anyway, that bag stayed with me for almost twelve years. I used it a handful of times, but it mostly sat in the closet collecting dust. Over the years, that bag traveled with me as I moved to different towns in New Jersey, and then finally, Pennsylvania. In 2018, I joined a gym in Pennsylvania, and I used the bag to carry bottles of water, towels, and extra dry clothing.

After several months, I looked at the bag and laughed. I laughed at all the memories it represented, and I laughed because most people don’t hold on to things like a gym bag for that long. I’m weird like that, though. A few years ago, I realized I had clothes hanging in my closet that were twenty years old.

So out of curiosity, I wrote down the brand name of the bag on a sheet of paper because I wanted to do a number check. I do this from time to time to see where I’m at. A number check is when I use numerology to find the value of something, and in this case, I used our alphabet, giving each letter a number value in wrote format: A = 1, B = 2, C = 3, and so on. I think there were only eight letters in the brand name, but that’s not important. What’s important is the total value, and that, after adding all the numbers, equaled 46. Immediately, I said to myself, This bag served its purpose. It took me exactly where I needed to be, it preserved over a decade of memories, and now it’s time to get a new bag. How did I know? The address of the gym was 4646 Broadway Street. It was 2018, and I was right on time, and in the right place. Interesting, isn’t it? Here’s the best part. Two years into my membership, the gym closed and moved across the street—new bag, new gym, new decade, new memories, and a new time began. Everything that happened in my life up to that moment is now filed and stored away. Welcome to a new epoch; it’s time for you to catch up and relish.

Witches in Heat

It was a sunny morning, the birds were singing new songs, and a blue sky stretched endlessly without a cloud. Foster was sitting on the edge of his bed, thinking about the day ahead. He was bothered by the fact he still didn’t have a car, even though he has gotten creative at finding ways around that over the years, and that creativity has kept him in good spirits. Plain and simple, Foster wasn’t going to let the fact that he often had to walk long distances ruin his day.

Today’s walk was uncharacteristically long, though, and Foster was taking a little extra time to prepare himself for the journey—the nine-mile journey. When he was good and ready, he stood up, and the first thing he did was open the window coverings. His bedroom lit up with sunlight. Then he headed across the hall to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Usually, he liked to style his hair with a little pomade, but today, that could turn into a huge mess. If he started sweating, the sweat from his head could run down his face, and eventually, he’d end up with pomade in his eyes. So he decided to put some water in his hair, and just push it to the side. After that, it was time to make something to eat, and Foster wasn’t picky. He liked cereal with some type of fresh fruit added to it, and this morning was no different. A blueberry-flavored wheat cereal mixed with fresh blueberries and a full glass of orange juice would do it.

So here’s the story. Several days ago, while eating breakfast, Foster spilled hot coffee on his laptop, I mean, directly on the power button, and the darn thing wouldn’t even power on now. Foster worked from home, so his laptop was a necessity, and even though he has been mulling the idea of purchasing a newer version for months, he would’ve put off actually buying one for as long as he could’ve. Now, after the spill, he didn’t have a choice. He needed a new machine immediately. After gulping down the last ounce of orange juice, Foster grabbed his wallet and headed toward the door.

In recent years, working from home has been growing in popularity. New companies like the one Foster works for have been able to not only increase the number of new hires but also bring in more talented individuals because they’re saving so much on overhead. Foster’s dream has always been to work for a big company in a big city, and he’s almost there. Perhaps, in a few more years, his company will be able to make that happen for him; but for now, it looks like he’ll be confined to his home office.

Foster lives just outside of Cleveland. Cleveland is one of Ohio’s more technologically advanced and progressive places; it’s happening and the place to be, but interestingly enough, there’s still a lot of underdeveloped land and vacant property in the surrounding areas. Like Middleville for example. Before Foster gets to his final destination, he has to walk through a small town called Middleville. It’s unbelievable—as if everyone just forgot about this place. If you were driving through Middleville, you’d be out of it before you even knew you were in it, but Foster wasn’t driving. He was walking, and he had to conquer a dangerous two-mile road stretching from one end of the town to the other. He hated walking on this road because it wasn’t safe. It was narrow, and both sides were outlined with trees. At night, it was pitch-black. There were two lanes for traffic, one going east, and one traveling west, and the cars barely squeaked past one another.

By the time Foster actually got to this road, he was about an hour into his journey. He was also sweating profusely, and probably a little dehydrated. It’s a good thing he didn’t use the pomade.

Three miles down, six to go, he thought to himself as he sized up the skinny road. Then he took a minute or two to regroup. He inhaled as much air as he could take in and then he exhaled; another deep breath in and then he exhaled. Foster was walking again. As he brushed the sweat off his forehead he looked up at the clear blue sky and smiled. The weather was on his side. It was cool and breezy, and the summer was coming to an end; it was a hot one.

A little further ahead on his side of the road was a red barn, and as Foster got closer to it, he realized it was some sort of store. The barn doors were open, and there was a girl standing inside looking out at the street. Finally, after reaching the premises, Foster was able to read the sign leaning up against a stack of hay. In big red letters, the sign read, Farm Market. Foster was hot and tired. He looked up after reading the sign and noticed the girl standing inside was watching him. He couldn’t help but smile, and when he waved hello, she motioned for him to come over.

What’s your name? the girl asked.

I’m Foster, he responded. What’s yours?

It’s nice to meet you, Foster. I’m Amanda, she replied. Welcome to the Middleville Farm Market.

After several minutes of small talk, Amanda noticed Foster’s appearance. His face was flushed red and sweaty, and his lips were dry, so she offered him something to drink and some of the freshest fruit in all of Ohio.

Out in the back, behind the barn, there was a wide-open field with all kinds of fruits and vegetables for sale. Foster spotted a nice shady spot under a tree, and he decided to take himself another break. He sat down with his back against the tree and let his head hang down. The stretch felt good. He took a sip of his water and looked around at all the shoppers.

What an interesting place, he thought to himself. It was surprisingly crowded considering its location. Foster must’ve walked down this road a dozen times, and he never even noticed it.

He reached down into the bag, pulled out a handful of raspberries and blueberries, and tossed them into his mouth. Then, he took another sip of water to wash it all down.

Amanda was off in the distance helping a customer. She was smiling and laughing, and Foster was laughing at her, but not in a bad way. Her skin had this amazing glow to it, and her hair was rusty. He thought she was beautiful, and he felt an unusually strong attraction toward her. From the shaded