Sunday, February 14, 2010

In the Morning

Jim and Tina woke up lying next to each other in jim’s big bed. Their bodies were touching each other. Jane feels the sun light coming into the room and sighs, then she clenches her body up closing her eyes tighter trying to hld on tho the rest of her night’s sleep. Jim feels her moving and stirs in the bed, then he puts his right arm over her positioning his legs against her’s trying to hold her. Tina is oblivious, so Jim turns away and lies on his back staring at the ceiling, thinking about nothing in particular. He closes his eyes and tries to go back to sleep, but all he can do is float around behind his eyelids. He lies a while longer feeling his body in the warm sheets and then rises to sit over the side of the bed in one swift movement. He shakes his head from side to side and feels the floating vertebrae snap in his neck. He decides to go to the bathroom and urinate.

After relieving himself he decides to go to the kitchen. He pours himself a glass of water and drinks it as quickly as possible, losing himself in his own paristalsis. He puts the glass down on the counter and walks to the refrigerator having decided to make Jane and himself some breakfast. He takes a moment to admire the kitchen’s high ceiling and many windows that look out into the back yard. The sky is grey again and heavy. The branches are dark and wet. The last leaves of autumn hang dead on their twigs and tremor with alternating raindrops. Jim admires the view and feels a pleasant sensation turn over in his bowls that reminds him of his grand parents’ lake house on Christmas morning. How it stirs the same pleasure. He puts a frying pan on the stove and turns on the heat then fetches the egg carton from the refrigerator. He holds the door open and tunes into the droning hum of it’s mechanical lung. He takes out a plastic container of strawberries, some OJ, butter a half a cantalope, some strawberry jelly and creamer. He opens the freezer and takes out some coffee to brew. He starts up the coffee maker after depositing the filter, water, and grounds into the proper places and then waves his hand over the stove to see how hot it is. He then opens the egg carton and reaches for a bowl from the cupboard then breaks four eggs into it and adds some milk. He then pours the concoction into the skillet and shifts the liquid round and round with a plastic spatula. He hears the shifting of weight on the other side of the house and feels footsteps marching toward the bathroom through the floor-boards. A door opens then closes, followed by the faint sound of urine being passed into the toilet bowl. A pause, a flush, the sink, the opening of the door and the sound of footsteps returning to the bedroom.

Jane leaves the door to the bedroom and the bathroom both open. She takes some time to scrutinize Jim’s bob Marley posters. She admires the shapely curves of the glass bong on the night stand then scratches another itch between her thighs. A strong feeling of boredom and emptiness comes over her suddenly and she dwells there for an indetermined period of time. She decides to lay back down and wrap herself up in the covers with no following actions being considered. She reaches over to the place were Jim was lying next to her and gropes for the residue of his body heat. She sighs deeply and remembers what it felt like for him to be having sex with her, fighting a wave of shame and disgust that starts licking at her conscience. If she gives in to it, it becomes a heavy tide that will wash away all memories of last nights pleasure. Not disgust precisely, but a feeling of strange vanity. She takes the opportunity of his absence to gaze at herself in the mirror. Contemplating her nude reflection, her eyes wander first to her breasts, impossibly small, stunted at the age of 16. They barely protrude from her chest, and then slop down shallowly, ending in precise rosey points. She shifts her gaze to the shapely curves of her torso, puts her hands to her ribs, and feels the soft pad of flesh float over her bones. She reflects longingly on her hips, waist and mons, tittilated at the pleasing nature of their arrangement. Her eyes linger on the hollow space between her inner thighs and she follows her legs down the mirror. She shifts her gaze to her face and tries to sharpen the severity of her gaze. Two deceivingly cruel and intentful eyes set below an angry Nietzcheian brow, then following the shape of her nose set above rosey unsmiling lips. Her face is her favorite feature. Classically pretty, but brooding with severity, framed by luscious shoulder length blonde hair, her shockingly seductive, cruel features. Hard wired imperfections of her physical form brings light to her conscience and comforts her. She loses herself in the convolusions of her internal dialogue. Seductress, succubus, all words that come to mind, but that are some how inadequate to describe her completely. When she looks into the eyes of men, she knows she can inspire fear in them it is reflected in the disdainful glint of her eyes and thrown back into their faces. Fear me, worship me, love me all at once. Take my body greedily and have your way with me. Give me a reason to talk to you. When these thoughts pass, she is once again left empty, so she goes back to the bed, and tries to sleep.

After a few more minutes, Jim re-enters the room with a tray and a plate of food. Jane looks at him in surprise, unable to fully recognize his face. Fear overcomes her for a moment, but she fights it. she fights the tide of fear. “Are you hungry? I made some breakfast for you”. He says. “Oh thanks”. She sweetly replies grinning hungrily at the eggs. Jim sits down next to her then pulls his legs to one side on the bed and runs his palm down the soft sloping skin of her back. She tenses up, but does not respond otherwise. After a brief silence Jim says, “so what are you doing today?” Jane eats, ruminating on her response as she chews her eggs. “I have to work at five, but I’m free until then”. She immediately regrets this admission of having free time. Shocked at the presence of this stranger she struggles to find the words that will explain her self and why she is still in his house, but nothing comes out. ‘Just keep eating’, she thinks to herself. ‘You can’t respond if your mouth is full’.

Jim looks lovingly upon her as she thoughtfully puts more eggs into her mouth and sips her coffee. He runs his fingers through her hair adoringly waiting for her to speak as if her words could command the heavens. But she says nothing. He thinks of something to say, but nothing comes out. He is contented at her presence and tries to make the silence feel comfortable, satisfied simply to watch this girl eat the food he made for her.

Jane feeling his expectant gaze then blurts out, about how her grandmother used to cook her scrambled eggs with sweet cream in them and how they reminded her of the eggs he made. He replies with a thank you. What does he want from me? What will he do if I just put on my clothes and leave? She looks at her clothing piled on the floor beside the bed but does nothing. She looks away when she senses that he is also looking at her clothes. What to do. What to say. What does he want me to say? She looks over to him searching for a clue but all she sees is the stupid doting expression of an infatuated man-child. All passion that she felt the night before is surprisingly gone here she sits, left in the presence of a total stranger. She finishes her breakfast, then stands up naked, excusing herself from the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

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