Lilith and the Maniot

By George Panagiotopoulos

Nick seems to have the perfect life: a beautiful wife, two young children, a home in San Francisco’s prestigious St. Francis Wood, and a job he loves in Silicon Valley. One morning, after stumbling upon his wife’s e-mails to her lover and uncovering her affair, Nick’s perfect life becomes a nightmare. Not knowing what to do, Nick decides to leave his family. Checking into a local hotel not far from his home, he withdraws to a complete state of solitude and isolation and falls deeper and deeper into depression. Dealing less and less with reality and frequently falling in and out of sleep, Nick is suddenly visited by a horrific figure which terrifies his nights. The frequency of these surreal visits by this strange and freighting creature increase to a level that Nick becomes fearful of sleep and does so less and less, which further debilitates his physical and mental state of existence. Aware of his pending insanity, and consumed by the thoughts or his wife and her lover, Nick calls upon the only person that he feels holds the key to his sanity and may possibly help him return to society. Will this friend help Nick recover? And if so, will Nick like the reality he has awakened to?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781684094424

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Lilith and

the Maniot

George Panagiotopoulos

Copyright © 2017 George Panagiotopoulos

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2017

ISBN 978-1-64082-418-8 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68409-442-4 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Louis Diner clings to the cliffs of the western edge of San Francisco. Continuing westward would plunge you directly into the cold and violent Pacific. Louis is about a couple hundred yards down the road from my hotel, the Seal Rock Inn. The inn is named after a large rock which protrudes from the thrashing waves just beyond the shoreline that at one time was the home to what must have been hundreds of seals. I could remember my friends and I skipping school and hanging out at the old arcade just below the Cliff House Restaurant, which was the only other restaurant on this rocky edge, From just outside the arcade, you had a great view of Seal Rock. I could stare for hours as countless seals were actively hunting, playing, or simply napping all around this ecological wonderland just beyond our land. You could hear their barks from miles away. Then one day, they were gone. Every last one of them disappeared and have yet to return.

As I crack open the curtains of my room and gaze out at the vast, endless Pacific, with tiny Louis Diner in the foreground, my eyes begin to burn from the piercing light. I realize then how seldom I look out my window, and for a moment, I consider opening it up to let the cool ocean air sooth me. Instead, I slowly draw the curtains close and withdraw back to my bed.

It has been just over a month since I discovered my wife was having an affair, and I have been in this hotel ever since I walked out of my front door leaving my precious young children, my dogs, the cats, and life as I knew it behind me. Since my world collapsed. I have completely withdrawn from my senses; I am completely numb. Well, to be honest, for the first week, I cried all the time. I laid on the floor and cried endlessly. After several days, however, a natural metaphysical phenomenon took place within which left me completely void of emotions and tears. Of course, there is plenty of time to reflect on the past—my children, my parents, her, that bastard, my friends, and coworkers—but I do so without tears, however, not without exhaustion. My thoughts are not clear and my ability to reason through and process seem to have abandoned me. So far, I have made very little progress and actually feel more fatigued and confused than when I first arrived to this cold corner of the city. I am indeed exhausted, which does not make much sense for I seldom have gotten out of bed or left the room. The few times I have left was to buy another carton of Marlboros or a couple large bottles of Tito’s vodka at the Sea View Liquor just up Geary Boulevard. Thankfully, I have them. They have been the main component of my diet for quite sometime now. My room reeks like smoke, so I keep the tiny bathroom window open and fan on all day. The incessant noise from the small yet determined fan in the bathroom is beginning to drive me insane.

I order room service in the morning for my coffee and again late at night when I can’t possibly go any longer without something to eat. I eat a lot of soup; whatever soup they have, I order it. It seems to nurture me enough to go another day. But today is not just another day. Today, I am breaking my routine. Today, for the first time in many weeks, I will be meeting with a person. In less than an hour, I will be meeting with a girl named Lilith for lunch. I don’t remember much about her other than we had a great affair that same night that I uncovered my wife’s secret life. Lilith and I shared one of the best nights of my life; however, I never thought I would see her again. When I finally decided I was ready to open my laptop and look at e-mails, surprisingly—along with hundreds of e-mails from business associates, friends, my parents, and of course, my wife—her e-mail was there. I chose to only open hers as I was not ready for any other human contact. There was one from her the morning after and then another a week later. Her last one was just a few days ago. I opened that one.

Hello, Nick,

I will not be writing you any further e-mails. I am quite baffled that after the wonderful time we had together a few weeks ago, you have not bothered to return my e-mails or phone calls. I don’t understand. It feels ridiculous to admit, but I felt a connection that night and I was sure you did as well. I guess it was just a good time for you and nothing more.

Take care.

Lilith

Hello, Lilith,

I am so very sorry that I did not return your e-mail. Although I disgracefully don’t remember much from our evening together, I must admit that I do feel a similar connection as well. Would you be kind enough to meet me for a cup of coffee this week? Anytime is good with me. Just let me know when you are available. I need to see you, please?

Nick

PS: I have not been feeling very well, so please excuse my appearance when you see me.

Immediately after pressing send, I regretted it. Did I sound too desperate? Do I really want to see anyone? Why her? Why not one of my friends or parents, my poor children who I have abandoned yet I don’t feel a thing? Or even my wife? Am I wrong? Should I forgive her? Does she want to be forgiven? Questions that need answers, yet I am not ready. I cannot face anyone, and I don’t know if and when I ever will be ready to go back to this reality. To hell with all of them; I don’t feel anymore.

Nick,

I was happy to hear from you. I could meet you this Friday around lunch time. Where would you like to meet? I hope you’re okay.

Lilith

Lilith,

Let’s meet at Louis Diner out in the outer Richmond at the end of Geary Boulevard near Ocean Beach. Let’s meet around 11:30. If I recall