Beneath every veneer, beneath the person who is you, there are secrets, never acknowledged, never told nor shared. It is your sexuality, and mine, a compendium of dark influences, of seeds sown, of lost fleeting moments that run us wild, ragged. Ever constant, we deny our nature of want, desire, guilt, shame. Ever constant, we succumb to the subterranean pull of pleasure and pain. It is here where the story begins. Welcome. The Simple Mechanic of Infinite ExecutionLinda A. LavidFull Court Press, 104 pages, (paperback), $12.95, 9780981707075(Reviewed July, 2013)Dear Reader, you are invited into this meta fiction novella from the very first sentence, wherein Ms. Lavid admits, while doing it, she's cajoling you with sexual and suggestive phrase, because, Dear Reader, you like to read about naughty girls, don't you? And so it goes, your voyeuristic romp on Lavid's runaway express train -her big long engine throbbing and chugging - see, you do like it, even though you might squirm or wince now and again, it carries you along, as it hurtles through a sexual encounter that begins in a corporate lunchroom where you are "struck by the close proximity of the man and woman who are waiting for sandwiches. . .so close they could whisper. . . so close they could pass state secrets. . . so close no good is sure to come of it," where "Let's fly" seals the deal. Sure, Dear Reader, come, volare!The verbal express gathers speed, as we fly, united, to her point: the way out is through! The heroine embraces her slutiness "without guilt, without caring." She "removes the chains of the past" and is saved, spreads her wings, yes, Dear Reader and her legs, and learns to fly. It may not be easy. "She wills herself to stay steady . . . Darkness is around her . . . The only direction is straight ahead." The (anti)hero is left only with the memories of that first-time flight, and, Dear Reader, you see clearly who the real slut is, don't you? So pardon me while I light a couple of cigarettes and pass one to you. It was good. Very good. Ciao, cara.
About the Author: Linda A. Lavid is a writer and painter from western New York. Her work has appeared in the following publications: The Southern Cross Review, Wilmington Blues, Plots with Guns, Unlikely Stories, Ascent Aspirations, A Cruel World, Zimmerzine, Cenotaph, Over Coffee, Tangents, and published by the Haworth Press. A short story, "The Accident," was a finalist in Otto Penzler's Great Mystery Stories of 2003. "DMV," another short story, received an award from Ascent Magazine. Her book, 101 Ways to Meditate: Discover Your True Self, was a finalist in the 2011 Global E-Book Awar