Chicago's Lady-Language

A Story by Abishai100

A Windy-City dentist/writer makes a 'discovery' for diamond-insurance chess-waves and darkness but may find a 'cooler-hand' with a waitress-lady of city myth.

A Homeland fable set in Chicago exploring social themes of capitalism 'chess' and romance-for-marks. Inspired by various comics/media. Thanks for reading,

----

====

As a dentist by day and capitalism-race superstition-writer by night, Amlan Satan, Algerian-American citizen of the Homeland (Windy-City) found great expressions for traffic hospitality thinking and generally appreciated his sane/normal life in the big-city of pluralism business and handshakes but was about to embark on a 'misadventure' revealing Chicago's more 'weird' side(s).

SATAN (Amlan): "Dentistry is a great practice for me, and my dual-identity (online) as a cyber-writer of Windy-City capitalism 'matrix' lore expounds my general race/species interest in consciousness-for-magazines."

He had this habit of visiting a fave-eatery on Saturday afternoons for brunch that served this very tasty (Indian) luchi-bread plate which he'd order consistently! However, it wasn't (simply) the luchi but also the hospitality for inspired writing(s) perhaps that drew him there, in the form of a 'lady-waitress of shine' named Esmerelda ('Ezzy') whom he'd considered his special 'faerie-muse' for a conceived novel about immigration-daydreams/challenge(s). This was (certainly) good for Windy-City's social media (ha).

EZZY: Did you read that rumor of blood-diamond smuggling through Chicago-gem store?

SATAN: Which one, Esmerelda?
EZZY: Can't remember the name, but I read something on Facebook or something!

SATAN: You want me to investigate?

EZZY: Well, since you're into capitalism-race 'chess-writing' online, thought you would.

SATAN: For you, I'll do it (after todays luchi-brunch)...alright.

EZZY: Awesome; you're my ideal diamond-prospector, Satan.

SATAN: Cool (good for social media).

Investigate he did and discovery he did achieve, for that special 'marked' store was bringing in smuggled conflict-zone mined gems from Sierra Leone for 'profitable' world insurance veils for the modern gem-marketing class and bad for consumerism/education. Satan took photos of some of the pieces 'rumored' to be blood-diamonds owned by the Ion-company and had his buddy make replicas which he used to exchange at the very-same store, claiming he was sent by an 'ex-rival' from Euro-investments by the Ion-company. He then posted photos of the originals (he now owned!) for an Interpol-relation insurance 'examination' linked commission reward/fee and was suddenly feeling like the great Robin-Hood of Chicago (wow).

SATAN: You won't believe what I did, for our fare-rich Windy-City, Esmerelda.

EZZY: What's that?
SATAN: Oh this...this is my new diamond cufflink-set (a gift for you!).

EZZY: Oh, ladies' cufflinks are way cool (thanx!).

SATAN: You wanna know what I achieved for these (and other things)?

EZZY: You found that blood-diamond case and got some reward for a deed (hmm)?

SATAN: Excellence; you became my faerie-inspiration, Esmerelda.

EZZY: Is this a proposal, Satan?
SATAN: Sure (good for social media).

If you think Satan's 'deed' would simply turn-out to become a faerie-tale of simplicity for Chicago's capitalism-race 'chess' challenge(s), you're daydreaming. The Ion-company sent stalkers to terrorize Amlan/Esmerelda, our 'darling' couple of the post-9/11 era Homeland culture of 'incomplete distances' to commerce bridge-games to consumerism insurance/confidence, requiring Satan/Ezzy to suddenly become evading artists of science/engineering, drawing them to O'Hare for an airport-locker box deposit/exchange (Interpol-relation) en-route to a Belgian 'escape' plan with a special 'calculation(s)' signature of materialism stalemates.

EZZY: This is all your fault!

SATAN: Hey, you led me to the case, and I did what I conceived was simple-math.

EZZY: Ain't nothing in this Chicago that's simple math/chess, darling.

SATAN: Hey, we're in love, and I've got this one final calculator-image for heaven.

EZZY: I don't want to become your damsel for hellmouth(s), Amlan Satan.

SATAN: I've always been a 'bartender' at math.

Did this tale have a wonderful ending, a Hollywood-romance charm, for Amlan/Esmerelda? It sure did, and the two love-birds became writers (together) in Brussels after escaping that chess-stalemate 'death-trap' erected by that villainous Ion-company, requiring Satan/Ezzy to find that right 'calculator-poetry' of escapism to (eventually) marry and have a darling-son (Damian) for whom Amlan Satan would decorate a college-media inspired bedroom-decor to encourage sportsmanship-patriotism and media-windows culture 'access' brightness/materialism (for the Ego).

DAMIAN: Sometimes I get this 'funny' feeling you/mom had a 'dark' secret, daddy.

SATAN: We do; but you'll never have to worry about it, promise.

DAMIAN: Does it have something to with some 'game' about fortune?

SATAN: Maybe...maybe it doesn't...what's important is your Belgian class.

DAMIAN: Right (thanx); I guess this world's like Windy-City magic (ok).

SATAN: Alright; you'll grow up to become a 'fine' thinker of Earth's mind(s).

DAMIAN: Thanx to Chicago, right?

SATAN: Maybe.