November 17, 2017The sultry surge of nothing left my eyelids as we conversed with surreptitious candor, the evening beckoned bitterly and foreshadowed the closing of a day one day not remembered. The darkling thrush thrashed outside the window as running water from a garden hose provided the backtrack for a setting sun. She kept with the wine, slowly sipping, gently licking, and neck turning showing the pretty pulse in one viciously taunting vein. “Snow-white hair color, are you sure,” was the voice through the telephone. “Yes, exactly that color, I will not settle for less.” “Are you sure, Sir…we just think you may change your mind one d—“ “Should I take my business elsewhere?” “Of course not, Sir…we value our elite customers here at…” The old cliche is true: it feels like almost yesterday when she arrived; She smelled…so…clean. Her smile, again, was wet with wonder—a glisten of new beginning. I imagine it would be as the people of old would describe “falling in love,” perhaps—or some such nonsense.
”May I pour you another glass, dear?”
”Yes, and walk slowly, will you? You know I love your legs.”
”Yes, daddy, I know you do.”
”You’re so good to me.”
”It’s impressive, considering you asked for the adaptive model…which means I may choose to disobey or runaway, at any moment.”
”You’re free to go, at any time.”
”I know, that draws me even more to you—your strength and security. You have given me the gift of freedom. You are now as my god. Even if I left, my heart would forever serve you.”
”Your battery is fully charged, darling. Know what that means?”
”Oh, darling, you mean it?!”
”I do.”
”I adore the nights you make love to me. It is almost as if you deify me.”
”It’s called worship. Only a god knows a goddess—peasants only claim to.”
∞
