I'm back! For today.
Ryan, hopefully my writing will pacify you for a few days. This is not a permanent return, but I felt like writing something so here goes:
Blackberry
She was a vision in black.
The suited man couldn't remember the day they had met, for he was accustomed to relying on her for the details. All he knew for certain was the way her sweet singing voice made him shudder and the perfect smoothness of her ebony skin in his hands.
When he'd come home at dinner time, communication at once seemed an insurmountable difficulty. After basking in her glow all afternoon, the presence of family dulled his demeanor. He'd pose questions about scheduling to bridge the ensuing silences. She always lit up when he mentioned scheduling, but the family simply glared.
Sometimes at night, as he dreamed of her cool touch, his wife would roll over and whisper, "Please, tell me her name." Refusing to abandon his fantasy, he too would roll over and emit a convincing snore. When he saw mascara streaked on the pillows in the morning, he felt nothing but cold remorse that his wife would not wear the black with grace, instead reducing the shade to mourning. But he would let the tears pass, for he now knew she was a far cry from perfection.
No, today death would not force them to part, but life. After distracted, half-hearted farewells, he retreated to his car and bid his temptress to come out of hiding. A self-satisfied smile transformed his lips as she began whispering sweet nothings into his ear. It was a new day- another day of rapture and beauty in his affair with the sleek model.
Model # 316.
Blackberry
She was a vision in black.
The suited man couldn't remember the day they had met, for he was accustomed to relying on her for the details. All he knew for certain was the way her sweet singing voice made him shudder and the perfect smoothness of her ebony skin in his hands.
When he'd come home at dinner time, communication at once seemed an insurmountable difficulty. After basking in her glow all afternoon, the presence of family dulled his demeanor. He'd pose questions about scheduling to bridge the ensuing silences. She always lit up when he mentioned scheduling, but the family simply glared.
Sometimes at night, as he dreamed of her cool touch, his wife would roll over and whisper, "Please, tell me her name." Refusing to abandon his fantasy, he too would roll over and emit a convincing snore. When he saw mascara streaked on the pillows in the morning, he felt nothing but cold remorse that his wife would not wear the black with grace, instead reducing the shade to mourning. But he would let the tears pass, for he now knew she was a far cry from perfection.
No, today death would not force them to part, but life. After distracted, half-hearted farewells, he retreated to his car and bid his temptress to come out of hiding. A self-satisfied smile transformed his lips as she began whispering sweet nothings into his ear. It was a new day- another day of rapture and beauty in his affair with the sleek model.
Model # 316.