The Plastic Lover. Copy write P. Audcent 2014
Jenny Craven was born in the middle fifties and was an only child. She was bought up by an elderly aunt, her parents having been divorced and now free of any encumbrance, launched themselves into a new spirit of freedom of drink and drugs. Jenny was bounced from relative to relative eventually at the age of two bouncing into the rock solid arms of Aunt Tracy a cold efficient woman versed in sums and subtractions, in other words an accountant. Jenny's life from that time on was spent in those damnable times tables at an age when she should have been galloping over the countryside or parks with children of her own age. So despite the good intentions of Aunt Tracy to feed, cloth and educate the child, Jenny grew up in a very lopsided way. Eventually she attended her first school and the following day she left under her own steam much to the consternation of her aunt who had to manhandle her back to the authority of the school and non caring students. This increased Jenny's hesitancy to form friendships with her fellow students and sadly resulted in bullying and non acceptance by both staff and her fellows. She did however excel at mathematics and eventually won every prize going for her studying and examination results.
There was in fact a growing acceptance of her brilliance later in the high school and university so she soon accumulated some friendships which because of her previous non exposure in earlier years caused her to be somewhat brittle and unyielding, any relationship seemed doomed before any firm closeness matured. She continued to succeed in her studies and was a joy to her elderly aunt who, now out manoeuvred by Jenny's brilliance, changed tack from being a teacher to became her acolyte and sponsor in all things. Alas any further future with her aunt was abruptly stopped by the sudden demise of old Aunt Tracy. Still Jenny was left the house, a small fortune in bank shares and a lovely garden to while away her time in. But she could not get used to having to tread on slugs and snails, let alone fertilise the plants with that awful smelling powder they called plant food. Alas she was bereft of good company, she was even short with her neighbours and had totally lost any communication with her cousins who coincidently were a little jealous of the attention and fortune Aunt Tracy had bestowed upon her.
So one day she wrote for a blow up doll to keep her company. Someone to talk too and give an occasional cuddle too. She had thought of buying a cat or a dog but was put off by the fact they had to be kept clean and fed, plus the idea of bringing up a pup or kitten filled her with horror at having to clean their messes up after them. So the pump-up arrived and after unpacking she blew it up, wonders of wonders it was a lovely man size and for a doll, really handsome. So she just had to name it, well you had to know the name of someone you spoke too so she thought and thought, then Hank slipped into her mind, and Hank it became. So Hank remained the highlight of her day when returning after work, he stood in the corner awaiting her embrace then he listened to any grievance and never answered back, a perfect gentleman was Hank. Except for the occasional need for a fresh input of air, Hank was so unbelievable easy to care for. So one day she gave a lecture at Uni on the practical use of a male doll. They laughed her out of the auditorium! That's when I lost contact with her, I tried to console, her but she turned her back on me. Hank was too strong. -------