Read dissonance. (a Böhme novel) for Free Online

closet. She ripped off her baggy sweatshirt and shorts and changed into her new choice of clothes. She wore them well.
    My mother was young when she had me, which made her just shy of fifty now. But she looked only a few years older than me. I hoped I looked as good as her at fifty.
    She had a fling with Saul shortly before he married and it seemed she still appreciated his attentions. My mom searched desperately for any attention. But she told me her luck in love ran out the day my father died. She believed that love they had at one time couldn’t happen again, but that didn't stop her from searching for attention.
    I began to check my online accounts. I could easily use my phone, but this gave me a reason not to have to watch my mother and Saul flirt. I've learned to be the queen of looking busy.
    My mother pushed the back of my chair to give her room to exit. I shook my head as she straightened her skirt and sashayed toward the living room.
    I leaned over and shut the door behind her because I didn’t want to hear what was going on in the living room. The volume went up on the stereo, notifying the house that Saul was now in charge of the music. He forced that—entering a room and making it his. I told him once that he was a self proclaimed alpha male lacking the respect one of such a title deserves. He didn’t appreciate that.
    I turned to the computer —my account finally loaded— and I saw a message waiting for me.
    Blake Lawson: Hey- I figured that since you didn’t give me your number, I could just find you online. Isn’t technology great? It makes it unnecessary to actually talk to people and ask questions about them. You can find out everything you need to know online.
    What a dork. I had to admit to the truth in what he said though. I’ve been known to cyber stalk and I wasn’t good at getting to know people in person. I couldn’t help but smile at his photo. He grew up in the Power Rangers time, not He-Man, so his photo surprised me.
    Me: He-Man?? And, there’s certainly more to me than my online persona.
    I watched as modern technology notified me as he typed his response. This anticipation at waiting shouldn't happen. I should stand from the chair as I selected the block option and leave the room. But outside this room I'd have to watch my mother fawn over one of the biggest assholes in six counties.
    Suddenly, Blake became more appealing. He was still typing his response, so I spun slowly around in the chair, looking to the ceiling and the posters of meditative scenes my mom placed above her bed. Then I heard the ding and turned back to the computer to read what he had to say.
    Blake: Yes, He-Man. I understand he may be seen as juvenile in someone’s eyes such as yours. Especially since you are a tough rocker chick who does NOT have time to give me her number, but you have time to mock me. But I digress. I think what you should be asking is, “Why not He-Man?”
    He-Man is a fantastic representation of me. The raging muscle, flowing hair—I’ve been known to wear furry boots and speedos too. Although my dad did give me a weird look when I came to a work site wearing them… but I told him don’t worry, it’s all in a day’s work. I shingled that roof regardless of the chafing I received. His response to me was, “Blake me boy—the chafin’ ye receive from tha is far better than the one yer ma will give ye if she caught ye doin tha.”
    A shudder ran through me and I let my head rest in my hands as I rolled my shoulders. I’m a grown woman, I should not be shuddering at the thought of Blake dressed as fucking He-Man, roofing a house. That is some weird shit… but incredibly funny.
    I contemplated my response and tapped on the keyboard, and deleted. I typed again—deleted again— until finally I responded.
    Me: Wow. That’s kind of crazy . Your dad sounds as if he’s a trip—does he always sound as if he's from Ireland or are you exaggerating?
    Blake Lawson: Yes, he’s Irish. But