Gina's Dry Spell

Gina rolled over.

Of course she was alone.

This dry spell had gone on for close to a year, but she figured this was what she got for living in a conservative small town in Oklahoma. It was tough being gay in a town where the major industries seemed to be farming, fundamentalist Christianity, and MAGA. She knew that, if she came out, the locals would run her out of town faster than she could pack.

Gina only stayed in Palmer, Oklahoma, to care for her invalid father and run the small store that had been in the family for three generations. Dad had died six months earlier, yet she was stuck here. She would sell the store if doing so would not put her into even more debt.

She was trapped.

She was horny as hell; her sexual fantasies were out of control; and her toys were not helping much anymore.

Gina slapped at her ancient iPhone to turn off the alarm. It was time for another “glorious” day running the Palmer General Store.

“Where did that book come from?” she asked her empty room.

She picked up the strange black book that looked like a diary. Gina had never kept a diary unless one considered her sketchbooks as a sort of diary.

She looked the thing over. The pen was nice, but that was all that caught her attention until she read the note at the front.

Gina laughed.

She had had a beer or two too many last night. Maybe she had found the book on one of her dad’s old bookshelves. The man had been a voracious reader of just about anything he could lay his hands on.

Gina took the pen and wrote, “If this book can really change reality, then I now believe it.” Gina did not believe a word of the note, but when she lifted the pen from the page, she knew, with absolute certainty, that the book could do what it claimed.

“Holy fuck, Batman!”