Excerpt: Lewinsky by Gore Vidal

Clinton_Lewinsky_1998_Abkhazia_stamp

September 29, 2015 - Uncategorized

By Gore Vidal

Monica stared at her blue dress, frozen, undecided on what to do with it. She picked it up and folded it, placing the dress next to her collection of college books, including The Scarlet Letter. She could still see the president’s come stain, which formed a blotch that looked like Hester Pryn’s shameful ‘A.’

Monica suddenly felt filthy. She grabbed the dress and ran to the sink and desperately attempted to rub out the stain. Deliriously, she scrubbed, screaming “out out damn spot,” like Lady Macbeth. Or, rather, the woman who briefly participated in kinky cigar activities with Lady Macbeth’s husband, Macbeth.

Suddenly, she heard a knock.

“It’s me, Ken Starr.” The investigator!

“No,” thought Monica!

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Monica said, out loud this time. She had to think fast about what to do with the dress. She looked down and saw a loose floorboard. She had an idea, like a cartoon character that has a lightbulb form above his or her head.

She hid the dress underneath the floorboard.

“We heard a complaint about a woman blowing the president. Do you mind if I enter?”

“Not a problem,” Monica said confidently. “I’m sure you’ll find no issues with Commander in Chief fellatio whatsoever, officer.”

Thump. Thump. Monica could see the floorboard moving. Thump thump. The floorboard was making a telltale sound. Like a pulse. Thump thump. A heart, if you will.

The thumping was becoming unbearable for Monica, like the thumping of an imaginary manifestation of guilt.

“It was I who blew the old president!” Monica suddenly shouted.

Excerpt published with permission from the publisher of the first chapter of Gore Vidal’s posthumous novel Lewinsky