Scribam et ego Mundo

The Moon is Made of Drywall

The Moon is Made of Drywall

Okay, so about a year ago, I started to reiterate silly jokes from one of my favorite webcomics. At the time, I was in the middle of a 2000-words-a-day challenge. Well, one of the silly jokes was, “Did you know that the moon is made of drywall?” as to which I got a reply of, “You know, that would make a good book title.”

At first, I didn’t think much of it, but when I hit a writers block later that night at 200 words, I had to find something else to work on and I thought back earlier to the conversation I had. Anyhow, I worked on the book for about three months, which is a lot faster than I had thought I’d flesh out the novel. I was really proud of myself.

I’ll reiterate: that was a year ago. Only recently did I start formatting and editing, even going as far as removing the last three chapters and having to rewrite them as it was… terrible. Anyhow, I’m close to finishing the editing process and about to start formatting. I’m hoping to print a couple copies before the end of the year and a lot of people have been asking me for a little bit of the work.

Mind you, edits are not complete, but I did go over it a couple times and I asked Candace (another writer of GenMar) to go over it for me as well. We’re writers, not editors, but anyhow, here’s the little bit I wanted to let everyone read!

An excerpt from…

The Moon is Made of Drywall

by J.R. Diego

The engines lulled me to sleep rather quickly once onboard, which is why I insisted on a late night trip from JFK to Rome. I was lucky enough to get onboard about thirty minutes ahead of everyone and slumbered almost instantly.

The only dream I remembered was of chicken. Delicious, bacon wrapped, slow grilled chicken marinated in oranges and ale. It was quickly disrupted when I saw Grace coming out of the apartment with a tray in her hands with a noose on it.

When I awoke, it was rather bright outside. The Mediterranean, I suspected until I saw on my watch that we still had about two more hours to go. I wasn’t all that excited, I just wanted to sleep some more. I turned around to adjust myself away from the brightness outside and saw that a person was next to me; a woman I presumed, considering how smoothly and attractively the blanket she had moved around her figure. I saw eyes; not hers, a child’s’ looking at mine fixated on me standing from the aisle as if she was waiting for me to notice her.

I stared back for a little, felt an awkard smile form on my face for while before she stuck her tongue out at me and ran off towards the rear end of this section of the plan. I was a bit confused as to what had just happened and looked back out the port, attempting to wake myself up. I didn’t think much of it until the woman next to me awoke as well. What was revealed was something beautiful. Pouty lips with a naturally red glow to them; pale skin; gorgeous green eyes and straight dirty blonde hair. I might have felt myself blush a little as I instinctively looked back out the port, looking for something, but saw only the sea. It was of very little interest to anyone, including myself so I felt as if I was going to force myself forward again.

As I turned back towards her, however, she was already sort of leaning over me trying to look over through the port. I scooted back as she pressed her breasts against me. I bit my lips as I didn’t even know what to say and I just stared deep into her eyes as she pondered over the ocean. She was wearing a low cut shirt and leggings, obviously a little out of it until she noted that I was checking her out and that she was pressed firmly against me. I grinned stupidly at her.

“Good morning,” I managed to let out, as awkwardly as a twelve year old boy might say to a cute girl in his English class.

She quickly retreated back into her seat and covered herself with her throw again and laid back once again, facing away from me, probably just as embarrassed as I was, except, I ended up with a rather obvious erection that I had to force myself to hide.

“It’s 9 A.M, local time, by the way,” I notified her as I reached down to grab my laptop, probably going to watch a movie just to get my mind off of whatever just happened. I haven’t had sex in a while and those tits felt amazing. Definitely not helping as I kept feeling them against me.

“Greenwich, Spanish or Rome?” she asked without turning around. Her accent was different from anything I had ever heard.

“Rome,” I replied. She simply nodded and then got up, surprising me and headed

towards the clearly incorrectly labeled LABORATORY. Someone was fired and never hired again.

I was one of the lucky few in this plane to get a decently stable internet connection so as I checked my e-mails, I saw several coming in at once. Mostly from the office that was no longer my problem. I was thinking about three ways I could handle this: professionally and reply stating I’m no longer working for Mr. Munroe, unprofessionally, by not replying, or totally inappropriate because fuck them, I’m rich. I can do what I want.

   Dear Mr. Johnson,
   I would like to excuse my absence with...

I decided to respond professionally as I knew I would probably use the underwriters at some point in the future. I also set up an auto response and forward; something I failed to do while on the ground about a week ago. My computer started to make odd noises, either pressure or lack of use; probably both since I left the office. I need to start watching porn off this thing so that it has a better use than e-mails and spreadsheets.

Waiting for my luggage was… weird. I was waiting on my bags full-o-crap to arrive, but not alone. I was with the pretty girl from the plane, pressed tightly against me as the waiting area was packed with several hundred people. I still hadn’t heard her voice that clearly and I didn’t know what to expect. It was either going to be a Samantha or a Tabitha.

Samantha was one of my ex girlfriends from college. Tall, slender, beautiful and had such a sweet and lovely voice. A great singer and a loud screamer. Tabitha was a hooker that looked similar to Samantha that I hired after I broke up with her so that I can hate fuck; she was a tranny and had a voice deeper than Gav’s. A comparison I wish I never have to make again with any woman I attempt to sleep with. Needless to say, I didn’t get laid that specific night but it was around that time when I bumped into Grace. Naked. With my genitals. God she was great. I could still feel my face between her smooth, soft, tender legs.

“Cual es su nombre?” she said, seemingly out of no where. I was still a bit entranced.

“Uhh, what?” I replied while turning my head to her. Definitely a Samantha. I needed to get into her pants yesterday.

“Cual es su nombre?” she smiled and tilted her head as she looked at me. I was in love. Wait, why was she suddenly so interested in me?

“Sorry, I don’t speak German,” I joked. She laughed rather loudly. Definitely flirting.

“Lo siento. Entiendo un poco de ingles, per no mucho,” she replied. I was surprised I knew what she was saying. I guess being Californian had its benefits.

“Mi nombre es Jethro,” I told her, using the little Spanish I knew. I knew I sounded like an idiot, but I felt proud about myself.
“Suzana,” as she extended her hand to me. I shook it and smiled. Something about

that smile captivated me but I thought nothing of it as soon as I saw my luggage bag. Small dinosaurs stamped all over the bag. I bit my lips as I attempted to ignore the fact that it was mine. Before it left my reach, however, I was quick to grab it and inspected it She kind of giggled at my choice of luggage. I smirked awkwardly and off I went while trying to hold back my embarrased laugh.

“I was nice to meet you,” I said, looking back.

“Igualmente,” she said as I walked away. I nearly bumped into another idiot that was captivated by her as if he was the one she was talking to. She giggled at my expense as I headed outside. Several minutes later I was out the double doors that led to the warm and welcoming weather. Tiny little cars (and massive busses) were everywhere. To and from hotels; tour busses; cabs; cabs; more cabs. Every so often a ballsy Ferrari came up.

“Jet!” I heard in the distance. It was Valeria. She was in a pretty summer dress. I was instantly jealous of Gav as I noticed how beautiful she was. Her brunette hair flowed softly in the stale wind, somehow.

“Hey!” I replied as she came up and embraced me, dropping my bags.

“C’mon. Let’s not miss the bus to the hotel. It’s leaving soon, in like, two minutes,” as she grabbed my messenger bag. I quickly followed with my dino’s in tow and jumped into the bus, right behind her. I heard a cry from a woman, asking for the bus to wait. More than anything, I noted that she was rather pretty so I quickly grabbed her and pulled her in on top of me, almost falling in all the way. I didn’t account for a step so I lost my balance and fell all the way down with her on top of me. I looked into her eyes and they were gorgeous light brown eyes and she had straight dirty blon-

“Jethro!” she said in her Spanish accent as she tried to get off of me. Now I knew the universe was fucking with me and laughing at my expense.

Val was a bit surprised as the door closed behind Suzana; the driver, with no concern for us, started driving. I helped her get up and dusted the back of my shirt off. Suzana blushed a bright red as she helped clean off the grime off me from the bus floor. Her bag was close to her, luckily, and didn’t seem to have much, if any, grime on it. She didn’t seem to have much with her other than the carry on from the plane.

“Who is this?” Valeria asked flirtatiously, biting her lip, expecting a romantic response.

“No idea,” I said as I helped Suzana straighten up as well. Her hair smelled of daffodils and I was a bit enchanted. I snapped back to reality, “She sat next to me on the plane and waited for our luggage together, kinda.”

Suzana looked a me with a bit of a smile. Valeria was quick to interject, “Hola, me llamo Valeria. Cual es su nombre?” she asked Suzana. Her face lit up as Valeria’s Spanish was fluent, unlike mine.

“Suzana,” she said, holding on to me then quickly keeping her hands to herself, probably suspecting that Valeria was my girlfriend or wife. She nearly fell over with a bump from the bus and I grabbed her before she fell over. This time she held onto my arm, but rather amicably.

“Jethro es primo de mi novio,” Valeria stated as she looked at me and then Suzana. I couldn’t really keep up with Valeria.

“Oh,” she said extending her hand to her to shake it and grabbed on to me a bit more confidently now. The hell did she just say?

“Sabes Ingles?”

“Poco, pero no mucho. Creo que Jethro no sabe que lo entiendo bien, y que hablo ingles,” Suzana replied as she looked at me.

“That’s hilarious,” Valeria replied looking at me. I looked at Suzana and then at Valeria.

“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I know how to speak English too,” she replied, smiling micheviously.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You heard me speak English on the plane, so I thought you knew,” she said a bit defensively, holding back a laugh. It hadn’t dawned on me that she did respond to a question I asked her in English on the plane until now. If my face didn’t make my ignorance obvious, Valeria’s cackle definitely did. Suzana was quick to join her as the bus whirled out of airport and into the traffic of Rome.



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