Forwarded by Prof. Stephen T. Crispen
Love me hard is a true American masterpiece, a candle in the dark, or a tender embrace in a cruel world. I first read this masterpiece when I attended Oxford and then later when I got my master's in Harvard. I wrote three different essays on it and numerous critical analyses on it in my Cambridge day's (where I got my PhD). I personally met the writer on two different occasions and was flattered by his humility. I also wrote complete commentary on it and the effects it has had on the arts and our modern culture. I also oversaw the distribution of this novel to over 50 countries and 65 different languages, including Hindi, Sanskrit, Bulgarian, Maltese, Greek, Yiddish, and my personal favourite, Latin. I hope you enjoy this masterpiece as much as I did, cheers.
Love me hard
By A.S. Michaels
They say that if a tree falls in a forest and nobody is there to hear it, it doesn't make a sound. Well, this is a story about that tree- the tree that cannot make a sound, because nobody is there to hear it. It is the year 2006, and a young woman enters a dimly lit room. Delicate, like a box of napkins, soaked with the tears. Her delicate blue eyes were buried in her even more delicate hands, with fingernails painted violet and pink. Her name was Rebecca- Becky for short.
Becky had lived with her father for six months already. She missed her old home and knew that things were never going to be the same again. Not after what happened those awful six months ago. "Hello" Yelled Toby, her best friend. Toby was a young man, with a rough chiselled face that could only be complemented by his rock hard but gentle features and pectoral muscles. He was a wonder to the eye- he had the machismo of Benito Del-Toro and the Firm- yet- authoritative voice of Patrick Stewart. "You look good this morning, Becky". "Thanks" she rebounded, quickly and unsettling as she could barely contain her excitement at the prospect of spending more time with this perfect image of a man.
Becky spent a lot of time with Toby, in their small suburban containment. It didn't matter, however, when Toby was around. They both had a special relationship that was omniscient to the limited words of all languages of the world. It was special, beautiful force that knew no past or future, just a now. And during this now, it seemed as though all the stars were aligned, and two halves of a whole- a whole that makes up everybody, were finally united.
A great dream turned to reality was what became of that night. Becky ran upstairs and closed the door, heart beating at what felt like a million beats a second. She knew that this had been with the man she had always dreamed of. The man who put away the garbage! Oh my, her fantasy appeared to be slightly more real than she envisioned, as her father was calling for her. "Rebecca, Put away the garbage" cried her father, yelling through the old creaky walls of their shitty little cottage. Yes her father- small plump and diminutive. He had the annoying voice of Robin Williams, and the short, fat demeanour of... Robin William's as well. Actually he looked a lot like Robin Williams. Anyways, He was practically screaming for her to put away the garbage, so much so that the garbage ended up putting itself away. Of course, Becky didn't notice this at all, nor did her father, and the two ended up in yet another engagement of cruel words and ideas. It was becoming apparent that her time at her father's place was becoming very limited.
The next day, she decided that she could no longer handle the life that she had to live. She started applying for jobs at every library she could get access to. Eventually, her father discovered that his daughter had been making these malicious plans and decided that they needed to end. He walked up the stairs, slowly. Creaks could be heard everywhere. He pushed open the door and began to raise his hand. "I told you you'll never leave this house" he said in a cold, un-robin Williams-ish voice. He then proceeded to hit her. "You think you can fuck me over like your mother! He yelled before giving her another taste of his hand. He then began to unbuckle his belt. She screamed for only a brief while before having her mouth engulfed in his hand. Yes his hand, his sweet, masculine hand, which held her hard, yet gently. A dancers hand you could only really find on a dancer... or Johnny Depp.
Just then, Toby entered through the window and kicked him over. "You can't have her!" he said. The hulking mass that was her future boyfriend had only begun to tread the waters that so many like him swam in. He engaged in the most sac religious of all sexual practises. He ran his tongue across her leg while groping her premature breast. And while this all seemed like a lot for a delicate little flower at once, it ended being even more than she could of ever dreamed of, as she found herself screaming for more, of which ended up being delivered. The groaning and screaming prevented the neighbours from sleeping, and it lasted all night.
The birds cheeped, the horses singed, and everyone seemed happy today. It had seemed as though all the stars were aligned, and two halves of a whole- a whole that makes up everybody, were finally united. Everything turned out well, until one fateful day they would never forget. Toby had to leave. He had applied to the University of York and was accepted. "I'm sorry honey, I must leave". "This is the chance of a lifetime, baby- not everybody gets into York- it's very hard to get into". They embraced for one last time- it was an extremely sexual embrace. Then Toby walked away, never looking back. "I love you" Becky cried. "I know" he replied. And so, Becky was alone again. All alone, that is, until the wolf-man appeared.
The end