Footsteps at the back of the house. There is a grumble in the pipes, and then the hiss and patter of the shower. Silence for a long time, then Ria bursting through the door. There is something precarious about the look in her eyes, her smile too bright.
Michael is stirring garlic in a frying pan, his back to her. She blazes across the room, chattering about the night, the clients, how busy the streets were. This town is full of freaks, you wouldn’t believe how some people get off, playing dead, singing show tunes, fucking freaks. Michael laughs with her, and she comes to stand behind him, her arms slipped around his waist. There was this one guy, he wanted to rub himself against my cheeks, cum all over my face. He said my skin was so smooth he couldn’t bear it.
She is shaking with laughter, out of control. Michael turns around, Ria, Ria, sweetheart, he slips his arms around her, and her laughter has collapsed into sobbing, cries that seem to be torn from within her. Oh Ria, you don’t need to, it’s not fair, he wraps himself around her, bundles her up, rocks her till the sobs stop jarring her body. Shhhh, shhh, it’s ok sweetheart, it’s ok.
Mattius wavers in the corner, wondering whether to reach out or make himself invisible. He moves over to the stove, and takes the burnt garlic off the element, stares out the window. The sun is somewhere above the horizon, somewhere behind the clouds.
Posted by Fionnaigh at April 4, 2003 10:58 AM
i'm not quite sure of why, but my response was a sigh.
shalom.
::ded::
Posted by: evo_ubermensch at April 14, 2003 11:11 AM