Not Another Moment Longer
An acrid aroma drifted into the foyer becoming stagnate
around the turn into the house's large, nearly vacant
living room. He was grilling steak, knowing she rarely
indulges in red meat. His passive-aggressive behavior
has become the bane of her existence and his tepid
denials she once found amusing are now sad and wasteful.
Margaret's eyes teared, as much from the smoke
as from a memory that tugged at her mind: Nicholas,
Making love to her on the floor of a tiny flat in Paris
cluttered with art, books and bottles of wine. His mouth
enveloping her collarbone, his hands beneath her legs
and then his lips pressed to her ear, the words he spoke
went down into her soul, a cotton candy cloud filling
her up with a sweetness only her husband could bring...
Today is their anniversary, yes he remembered
he tried to blot out the memory of young love with
the clouds of acrid smoke, but it didn't work.
He turned off the grill and threw the steaks over
the fence to the delight of the neighbor's dog.
As Nicholas walked back to the house he began to
remove his shirt and then his belt. Passing the
sink he splashed himself with water until his
face and torso were dripping wet as if he had been
baptizd in some old Burt Lancaster movie.
No more tepid tip-toeing around his wife. He
knocked over a glass on his was to the living
room, the sound thrilled him for some reason,
belling in his ears; an unexpected joy.
As he came upon her he whispered Margaret
and he covered her body with his, his mouth
took hold of hers. He felt her heart flutter,
or was it his?
Toi
7/10
17 comments:
It was sensual, beautiful and full of passion.
As usual, you are very good at this.
Nice story, loved this.
Regards
Blasphemous
Thank you, Cinderella, I had
a few tweeks and typos to take care of, and then my comments
were lost. Thankfully everything
is fine now.
Hi Anonymous, you are so kind to
me - Thanks so very much. I took
care of a couple of typos.
this is such a beautiful piece of writing..i have gone through some of your wordless wednesday posts and believe me each post has a life full of passion!
i loved the dreamy prosaic style and vivid descriptive of your write-up!
Hi Aparna, thanks so much for
your response. I love the description - dreamy prosaic
style. Please return.
left me wanting more ...
peace,
JP/deb
And that's the best a poet can
hope for. Thanks, JP.
beautiful lines..
lines have that intimacy and passion
:)
Very sensual and beautiful prose. There is one error I caught. You've got read meat sted red meat.
But this was very beautifully told.
Loved this Toi... You write so well and bring out sensuality beautifully. I also noticed the "read meat"... :)
Hello Sorcerer, thanks so much
for the kind words.
Hello there Tom. Wow - this prose
piece was kind of racked with
typos and errors. Hopefully I'v
found each one. Thank you for
pulling my leg on the read meat.
And I always look forward to your
presence here, thanks.
Hi lovely Rebecca. Thanks very much
for your generous compliment about
my writing. I have to be super
circumspect when I check over
work written in the middle of
the night.
Thanks, Rebecca.
Or was it his? I think it was his. They had entered the commonality of love, the mundane, the routine. It was a very good short story, very intense but also with a bleak ending. Many thanks.
Greetings from London.
Hello Cuban London,
Thanks for reading and responding. I hoped the ending
was that beginning of reclaimed
love.
very nice..gripping .liked it
take care
Hey Rainbow, I like gripping.
Thanks, please return.
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