Mob widow stories April 10, 2024
I have to modify the locations I used in my novel Hudson
City, partly because what was supposed to be fiction got a bit too real.
I had located a portion of the novel in Kingston partly
because I make yearly trips there and could picture the locations in my head
that I used for the story.
I never imagined she would move back there.
Although I’ve outlined the whole novel beginning to end, it
is handwritten and takes time for me to type into and post.
I’ve gone back over some older stories in did more than two
decades ago with the vague idea of including them as scenes in the book. But I
changed my mind, realizing that those written years ago had their own purpose
and would not translate well.
I’ve started posting those old stories, partly because they
recall a time, place and a woman who I used to share them with.
She was the widow of a mafia capo, who was dying of a rare
disease, yet missed the cocaine, sex and risk of her younger life.
As part of our arrangement, she would email me a tidbit and
I would flesh it out into a larger, erotic story, usually based on some local landscape
we both knew well.
It was a cheap thrill for both of us, and resurrecting some
of these stories brought back those days, even though I continue to write what
I call “fantasies” based loosely on real scenes or those I would imagine.
For a long time, I stopped writing them, partly because I
had no one like the mafia queen to inspire me or for me to share them with when
I concluded.
Meeting the poet a decade ago reinvigorated that part of my
imagination, and I picked up the habit again, even though with the exception of
erotic poems, the majority of the fantasies never got posted, some still in an
outline form, others simply put away for some future date when it might be
possible to share them again.
Most of these are based on a “what if” concept, in that I flushed
out a scene of what might have been, rather than what actually occurred – this differing
from my journal and poetry journals, which tried to reflect reality rather than
my fantasy.
Some are just too close to reality for me to post, although
as time goes on, I might post these as I am posting the old stories from the mob
widow, with whom we got our harmless kicks way back when.
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