Here is an excerpt from my latest collection of stories, Indecent Stories for Decent Women.

Warning: This story is not completely proper.

There is this youngish woman with whom I have been exchanging pleasantries for years, mostly at the coffee shop. Some of the exchanges were slightly off-color. That’s a given. If you are an obviously straight man and fairly presentable and you know a woman for a while and you never make daring allusions to her, she starts disliking you. This woman is not exactly a friend. She is just a friendly person who tends to occupy the same spaces I do. This co-occupancy will often create a sort of link because public space often ends up being kind of tribal, but not always.

My lady acquaintance is quite middle-class looking, not vulgar at all but she has physical advantages she makes no effort to conceal, to say the least. So, I look at her, of course. And her eyes meet my eyes often. She has big laughing eyes. Sometimes, I act the bitch and I play little games with her. I will quickly look away after a brief hello. When I do this, her eyes often seek mine. She does not really want me to ignore her. But I am married and she is “in a relationship,” as they say. We both know there will not be much of anything between us. We are to each other like as an extension of morning coffee.

One day, I bump into her at the coffee shop and I sit with her. Then the Devil grabs a hold of me. I have to tell you, I say, the other day I was sitting right here in the sun, in a half-daze, gazing at you when you were in line in a tight blue dress at the deli across the street. My brain went on sort of automatic. It happens to me often when I am in the sun doing nothing. I began undressing you slowly in my mind.

It was very nice – I tell her – but don’t worry, I kept your black lace panties on so, nothing really happened. She leans over and slaps me in the face, but not too hard. You, idiot – she says – can’t you finish what you begin?

Indecent Stories for Decent Women. (2015) is on Amazon Kindle under the pen name: “Jean René Adolph.” Reflecting on its title will suggest why I am not using my real name in this one.   Some people are able to download the book on their reading device but I don’t know how they do it


About Jacques Delacroix

I write short stories, current events comments, and sociopolitical essays, mostly in English, some in French. There are other people with the same first name and same last name on the Internet. I am the one who put up on Amazon in 2014: "I Used to Be French: an Immature Autobiography" and also: "Les pumas de grande-banlieue." To my knowledge, I am the only Jacques Delacroix with American and English scholarly publications. In a previous life, I was a teacher and a scholar in Organizational Theory and in the Sociology of Economic Development. (Go ahead, Google me!) I live in the People’s Green Socialist Republic of Santa Cruz, California.
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