PROLOGUE - I Had a Dream
So here I am, StuHefner International Mystery of Man, checking out of this Popsicle stand to follow a haunting apparition; a dream that taunts me to even dare.
Statuesque and graceful she came to me, this angel, encased in translucence. Our worlds tumbled sideways into each other for a length bridling eternity, deeply diminishing the shouts of a torrid world.
Perfect symmetry, this vision, giving love and providing life; she once held my very soul as a trance does; spellbound in abstraction.
I recall the last morning we woke together.
Tears tore my retina like Chernobyl Rain on a cloudless day as I watched her walk from the bed that had become ours. Her form blended surreptitiously into the obliviosity of a mist shrouded morning and I realized then that tomorrow would see the new dawn fade.
I wept knowing I had watched Marinetta's very essence melt away, as a fleeting notion fades, and our love was assigned a memory.
Ten days our legacy lasted and I have wasted a year for every day of knowing her then.
Now, I am tenacity’s servant.
I am departing BrizVegas on my opus to find the holiest of grail, this temptress who irks me still. I am assuming the guise of a backpacker so that I may move freely through Europe (map) on my quest north to Finland (map) without alerting the paparazzi of StuHefner’s impending monogamy.
The pull of my pagan goddess would drag any man to the farthest ends of the Earth (and you can’t get much further from Brisneywood than Helsinki).
Hell, go much further and you’re heading back Downunder (map)!
Did I also mention she is blonde with cobalt eyes, legs (thankfully, no disrespect intended Christopher), and a body of Supermodel proportions?
So it is, without any thought of consequence I have sold my magazine empire (CJ Mag) and am using the profits to fund my expedition to a place where the crisp pure snow piles high during the winter months and the sun never quite sets the remainder of the year.
Unfortunately my “Empire” only afforded me a one-way ticket on the Air Train from Brisbane’s inner city to Kingsford Smith International Airport ($9.00).
Never the less with a little help from Richard Branson’s plastic surgery wonder (my Virgin Credit Card), I finally found myself aboard a 747 heading to London (map), gateway to Europe.
Okay, okay, I know; I’m StuHefner International Mystery of Man. What am I doing chasing just one woman?
Never fear Dougal; join me on the Magic Roundabout as I blaze a trail across the world with a thousand distractions to overcome on my quest... FLAMEON!
PART ONE coming soon...