Flash Fiction: The Personals by Stevan Jovanovich

Credit: EVG, Photography, Pexels.

Impecunious gent of retirement age, extraordinarily distinguished, remarkably intelligent, disarmingly humorous, and seriously urbane, seeks monetarily endowed female companion with whom to share life, love, tears and joy in the sunset years of a fabulously sunny but materially unrewarding life.

I have done everything right except build a fortune. The metrics of success are fickle. Everything has been there: the looks, the fitness, the energy, the education, the intelligence, the wit. I have been trained to enjoy the best things in life but denied the wherewithal to do so. God has a devilish sense of humor!

You, my love, have lots of money—sinfully more than you need—but an emotionally wanting life. You are relationship challenged.

I, my love, have always strived for a full life, and spent what money I’ve had on that endeavor.

As a retirement planner I admit failure is a complicated business. Detours, if you will.

I have no baggage, most which was lost in transit. So, I’m free to spend my remaining years with a real lover in pursuit of sunshine, friendship and joy. 

Coming from a multi-lingual background myself, I love it when a woman is literate in another language or culture or two. That’s so sexy. I don’t care what those cultures are; just bring your worldliness and wealth to the table, and we can feast on the meal and on each other.

If you’re ready to indulge your life at a lavish banquet, please let me know. I’d like to be there as your guest, co-conspirator, friend, and lover.