Post by lordtwinblade on Jun 5, 2011 2:24:17 GMT -6
An excerpt from 'My Succubus', a story about a man.
"Tell me it isn't true!" Trisha burst out as she approached, heels clicking on the cold stone beneath her feet.
"Trisha, what's this all about?" My throat constricted painfully. Of my many transgressions, which could she have possibly discovered? I had been so carefully, so surgical in my infidelity. Despite the warm sun caressing my skin, my chest felt suddenly ice-cold.
Trisha began rummaging in her handbag, producing a ream of paper, dog-eared and wrinkled, bound by a loose brown cord. "Who's this mystery woman? This 'Desiree', the 'dearest desire of mine heart?'" She choked on the last two words.
My heart had stopped beating, feeling like a lump of lead in my chest. In that instant I knew it was all over. My affair had been discovered, my subterfuge laid bare, for all the world to see.
"Sweetheart, they're just poems -" I began lamely, but she cut me off.
"Don't treat me like an imbecile, Jason! These aren't just some idle hobby of yours, they were written FOR someone - someone who isn't me."
"You read them?" She nodded, swallowing. Something in her eyes ignited a spark of righteous anger in me, even though I had no right to it. "You went through my personal things? Why would you do that? Do I go through your drawers looking for dirty laundry?" I was practically shouting.
"Jason, I thought you were using drugs!" There were tears streaming down Trisha's cheeks. "You've been distant and moody lately - I thought you were just having trouble dealing with your brother's death, but your boss called me today and said you hadn't come in to work for the last three days! Your cell phone is always off! I had to do something!" She angrily shook the bundle of poems in my face, the parchment crackling as she did so. "To think, it was all because of a woman!" She spat the word like a curse.
"Priscilla was there for me when I needed her!" I exploded, my voice echoing across the lake.
"And I wasn't?"
A stony silence descended following her shriek, settling around us like an uncomfortably heavy cloak. The only sound was the wind teasing the fountain behind me. My lips moved, almost against my will.
"No, you weren't."
Trisha's eyes glazed over. She continued to stare at me, but those eyes were no longer the ones I knew - all I saw in them was the cold blue flame of contempt.
"Then there's no more to say," She whispered. She flicked her wrist, and a stainless steel lighter appeared in her right hand. Before I could move, she touched the igniter to the corner of the paper in her other hand and set the sheets ablaze. I made a lunge for the bundle, but she threw it on the ground and turned away. I tried to grab the stack and burnt my fingers. Defeated, I sank to my knees, listening to the receding click of heels on granite.
A soft hand closed around my smarting fingertips. Priscilla knelt beside me, pulling my hand up to her lips and kissing the wound gently. She caressed my jaw with the back of her other hand.
"Hush, love." She pulled me close, holding me against her, as the red glare of the flames grew. Her voice was soft and warm, easing the pain in my hand and my heart. "Hush." She whispered, barely audible above the crackling fire.
"Tell me it isn't true!" Trisha burst out as she approached, heels clicking on the cold stone beneath her feet.
"Trisha, what's this all about?" My throat constricted painfully. Of my many transgressions, which could she have possibly discovered? I had been so carefully, so surgical in my infidelity. Despite the warm sun caressing my skin, my chest felt suddenly ice-cold.
Trisha began rummaging in her handbag, producing a ream of paper, dog-eared and wrinkled, bound by a loose brown cord. "Who's this mystery woman? This 'Desiree', the 'dearest desire of mine heart?'" She choked on the last two words.
My heart had stopped beating, feeling like a lump of lead in my chest. In that instant I knew it was all over. My affair had been discovered, my subterfuge laid bare, for all the world to see.
"Sweetheart, they're just poems -" I began lamely, but she cut me off.
"Don't treat me like an imbecile, Jason! These aren't just some idle hobby of yours, they were written FOR someone - someone who isn't me."
"You read them?" She nodded, swallowing. Something in her eyes ignited a spark of righteous anger in me, even though I had no right to it. "You went through my personal things? Why would you do that? Do I go through your drawers looking for dirty laundry?" I was practically shouting.
"Jason, I thought you were using drugs!" There were tears streaming down Trisha's cheeks. "You've been distant and moody lately - I thought you were just having trouble dealing with your brother's death, but your boss called me today and said you hadn't come in to work for the last three days! Your cell phone is always off! I had to do something!" She angrily shook the bundle of poems in my face, the parchment crackling as she did so. "To think, it was all because of a woman!" She spat the word like a curse.
"Priscilla was there for me when I needed her!" I exploded, my voice echoing across the lake.
"And I wasn't?"
A stony silence descended following her shriek, settling around us like an uncomfortably heavy cloak. The only sound was the wind teasing the fountain behind me. My lips moved, almost against my will.
"No, you weren't."
Trisha's eyes glazed over. She continued to stare at me, but those eyes were no longer the ones I knew - all I saw in them was the cold blue flame of contempt.
"Then there's no more to say," She whispered. She flicked her wrist, and a stainless steel lighter appeared in her right hand. Before I could move, she touched the igniter to the corner of the paper in her other hand and set the sheets ablaze. I made a lunge for the bundle, but she threw it on the ground and turned away. I tried to grab the stack and burnt my fingers. Defeated, I sank to my knees, listening to the receding click of heels on granite.
A soft hand closed around my smarting fingertips. Priscilla knelt beside me, pulling my hand up to her lips and kissing the wound gently. She caressed my jaw with the back of her other hand.
"Hush, love." She pulled me close, holding me against her, as the red glare of the flames grew. Her voice was soft and warm, easing the pain in my hand and my heart. "Hush." She whispered, barely audible above the crackling fire.