Showing posts with label Bella Swan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bella Swan. Show all posts

Friday, September 16, 2011

Irresistible Destiny:Chapter 12 - Dreaming



Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny
___________________________________________________________________




What a pleasure to caress a woman without waking her! Simply to be for her a paradoxical dream in which her body alone would find pleasure. What obscure desire in her to be violated without knowing it?

With every woman, one would love to possess her without her being aware of it, leaving her free to take her pleasure without our knowing it.

He was probably still capable of awakening her with his roughness. So he thought; but his heart did not rise to the challenge. (Baudrillard - Cool Memories III - 21)



BPOV






I can't think about this now. None of it makes sense and all of it is perfectly sensible. Yes we can certainly kill each other by entering the dark world of de Sade, going deeper and deeper into perversion just to feel more and more intensely. I know this. Edward knows this. There is no end to it once you start. We could just play games on weekends, have a playroom, but that isn't me and it isn't Edward.

We are not playing a game. We are in a dangerous strategy, which is greater than what we know. And it has been going on for centuries. Maybe
thousands of years.


We are in the dark.




We are being played.




How long have we been played with?


What is wanted from us?




How can we know?




I am lost.




Without Edward holding me, touching me I would disappear.




He is out of his league as he says.


Well I am way far out of mine.




I guess we will just have to go day by day to see what happens. What the world is willing.




There is no possibility of deciding or choosing anything. There can be no making of plans, no willing on our part, or decisions. Destiny has us now.




By the throat.




We will just have to wait. Both of us are good at waiting.


And with that I tumble into sleep.

Cave of the Sibyl
I am in a dark cave, way in the back before an altar. But I am faced away from it, although I can smell its incense, a delicious fragrance.




I am wearing a loose white silken robe and my hair is long and wild. My feet are in silk sandals with kidskin
soles. I am scented with myrrh from foreign lands. I am the Sibyl, beautiful and powerful with deep secret
knowledge, which is all kept in volumes of books within this temple of mine




.
I am waiting for an appointment from a foreign adventurer who has been waiting to see me. My young virgins bring him to the entrance of my private area and I see his face for the first time.




My insides quiver as he looks at me. His eyes immediately look down, and he sinks to his knees offering a small silver fur holding large jewels: diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires.






"My most humble offering to you, my lady."






This is no humble offering I say to myself. I am wondering just what he wants. To go into the Underworld like Aeneas? Perhaps. But I don't feel so




.
"And what land do you come from? It is clear you are not from around here."






His hair is wild, coppery with glints in it, his eyes green, his face pale and beautiful. He is tall and lithe with sensitive hands and fingers.






"I am a Celt, my lady, and I do not come from any land. Occupying property is not to our liking. We are troubadours, poets, artists and search in hearts, not for land. I have heard of you. Your beauty and your exquisite knowledge of the arts. I have journeyed long to find you, to be seen by you."






I see that this one is dangerous, very dangerous.






"And what is it you want from me? Or do you want me to tell you. Cryptically of course." and I smile an enigmatic smile."






His eyes widen for a moment but then he recovers his control. I want to break that control. I will.






"The arts of love", he states this simply, directly.






"And you bring me these baubles!" I laugh and kick them all over the stone floor.






"Go away and pick up your trinkets as you leave."






I turn away and wave him away with my hand. My young virgins usher him out




. Now we will see what he does next.
________________________________________________________________


I am asleep but my body is partly awake. I feel a quivering all inside as I tremble so very slightly, but constantly.




As I open my eyes I face Edward and look into his green eyes and I know him. My eyes close involuntarily before I open them again. He is inside me moving so very slightly, playing with my desire and his desire. My breath catches, as I realize what he is doing to me.






"How long have you been inside me?"






"All night. It's been very difficult. I've wanted to wake you a million times already. A few times I almost slept, but I felt I needed to watch over you while you slept. I don't know why. I held you to keep you safe. I don't know why I did that either. But I didn't second guess myself.






"But oh, Bella, sometimes I floated on waves and sometimes I was in black black space with only faraway stars to see shining. It was wonderful, but everytime you moaned or moved I immediately stopped being there to be with you. Here, now.






And I increase my play with our desire, moving just a little more, holding him just a little tighter, until his breathing increases and I can feel his pulse beginning to pound faster. And then I move on top of him slowly and begin to move my pelvis down into him and then away, then into him again, so slow, so deep, and he groans and trembles.




I move just a little faster, just a little deeper, holding him tighter, leaning down and breathing into his ear, biting his ear, kissing and biting the side of his face, down his jaw his neck his throat his chest, down, down, down, until I feel his hands stop me.






No, not yet, he says. Not yet.






And he holds my ass against him, grinding me into him, grinding himself into me until I am coming undone. He won't stop, he won't let me catch my breath, I am trembling all over now inside and out, he has control over me and I am gladly offering it to him.






"Take me take me", I say,






thinking I don't want to be in charge here or anywhere. Take control of me, make my decisions for me, decide for us both. Please please please.






And he flips me on my back and then does exactly that. Relentlessly.




I try to hold myself back until he comes and I succeed for only one minute and then he says, "Stop holding back Bella, come now, let me feel you!" He places his lips on my throat and begins to bite me. I am completely undone and I moan gibberish as I hold onto him for dear life, shaking and quivering and dissolving. Then I feel him let go in me, feel his semen hitting hard against the mouth of my cervix, to flood me inside.






I am gone all over again.





Irresistible Destiny:Chapter 11 - Cumaen Sibyl



Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny
_____________________________________________________________________






 The Cave of the Sibyl


According to the Roman poet Virgil, the entrance to the underworld lies inside the Cave of the Sibyl, a hole cut into the cliff that circumscribes Lake Avernus, a volcanic lake northwest of Naples, Italy.

Outside the sibyl's cave, you can see a sign carved into stone:

More History and Images


For Savage's Hide and Drink Edward

The blood blossom flowers
At the fragile girl's throat
The vampire bears down
Holding her imprisoned supine form
His mouth open
His lips caressing
Silken skin suckling
Plumbing pulsing each precise precious
Deep and delicious mouthful
Throbbing into him
Drinking and calming his frenzy
Then with his venom
Seals her wound.
Saving her for yet
Another day
Another night
Another time
Until….

Chapter 11 Death 

EPOV


As we go up the stairs Bella begins to undress. At each landing she undoes more of her clothes.


My god I am ready for her.

I'm not sure I will even get in the door.

And then when we do and she begins screaming at me to take my pants off. I don't know who I am looking at. She is possessed. Her eyes are wild, her eyes are black and luminous, and she is unstoppable.

She goes down on her knees in front of me and takes me in her mouth. But I slide down her throat and her throat muscles clasp me tightly, pull me down deeper and deeper; her teeth graze me in warning. My god! Vagina Dentata!

She grabs the skin on my ass to hold on and then I am horror struck as I realize what's happening. I see it all the way to the end. To Death.


I am about to be initiated into a practice that has no return.




I hit her hard across the face to stun her.

And she gasps and I leave her throat and mouth in a rush.


She looks at me in hurt and astonishment, before she crumples into sobs while I am throwing her to the floor, on her back, restraining her with my body, hands, legs.

I know about this. It is ancient. The ecstasy it offers is without comparison. Anyone who indulges does not come away alive. I will come in her mouth and she will keep milking all of it out of me and it will be so wonderful I will want her to do it again. And again. In a short time my semen will become mixed with blood and she will milk my blood out of me. She will crave my blood and I will crave her mouth but her throat even more. She will bleed me, and I will beg her to keep bleeding me. As I die from lack of blood I will still beg her for just - yet - once - more.


And I will die.


 Just like those rats who press the bar to stimulate their pleasure center and don't drink, don't eat, don't fuck, don't take care of their babies. That's all they want. Just that. And it will be all I will want and all Bella will want. And when I die and there is no more of my blood she will go mad and die.


Asian prostitutes know this. Men did not die because they didn't have enough money to continue to the end. When AIDS came on the scene they were more careful and now it is impossible to find one who knows the ancient art, who will do it.

Mothers train their daughters starting in early childhood. Bella knows from a past life. We have done this in the past. We have died like this in the past. I know it, I know it. The desire is so strong, we must have never been able to resist before. I can hardly resist now and only because I know about it. If I didn't know about it I would never have stopped. And we would have been doomed yet one more time. My god. This is where this incredible demand that she be mine, mine and no one else's. Only her. She is the only one who can do this to me. I am the only one whose blood she will want once we begin.


Oh my god. This is where the legends of vampires come from, only the genders have been reversed to reveal and conceal the secret.

The sexual ecstasy just suggested, but death clear and open.




I keep telling her no, no, no that she doesn't know what she is doing.

She can't know. Now is not the time she will listen to words, so while she is sobbing I hold her tight around her sides and stomach and my left hand digs into the base of her spine where that abominable glorious kundalini energy lies dormant, a snake ready to coil out and strike when we least expect it.

I put my mouth on her and begin to devour her folds, her center, thrusting my tongue in her, sucking her clit, my teeth demanding she respond to me. Slowly she begins to move as I insist with my fingers, my mouth, my tongue, my moans, my voice humming against her.


She returns to this world of ours and looks at me eyes wide open, breathing heavily but no longer erratically.




"What happened? What Happened! Where was I? I was gone. I was in another time. I couldn't stop. I wanted to kill you if you left me. Is that what I meant when I said I would kill you if you even thought about trying to leave me? And I know given the slightest opportunity I would do it again in a heartbeat.


 How could you have stopped? Whatever made you stop? Why did you stop? I don't understand. Tell me. Tell me."




So I entered her slowly, pushing deeply into her, slowly, very slowly, and as I did I began to explain this ancient practice. I kissed her throat, her lips, her breasts, her nipples, and held her face with my hands and looked deeply into her eyes as I began to tell her about the beautiful, powerful Cumaean Sibyl who lived in a cave and was a prophetess.

Michelangelo painted her on the Sistine Chapel. Aeneas visited her to help him go into Hades and return. Virgil writes about her. And it was in her cave that a Christian burial ground was discovered in 1932.


Her cave looks just like a vagina. I have no doubt who those bodies belonged to. I was even willing to believe that I was one of them.




"No wonder I knew you right away when I saw you across the hallway. You have haunted men's dreams for all time. And you know secrets of pleasure and power that you don't know you know. There is something beyond us going on.


I haven't asked but I know you are using a chemical means of birth control. No condom, IUD, jelly, cream or anything would stop what is going on with us. You have a barrier against me, a barricade so to speak. Something is in a frenzy to break it, to have us vulnerable to each other, vulnerable to danger and Death. Something is urging us uncontrollably to procreate and something else is trying just as forcefully and dangerously to stop that from happening by killing us. The tiniest of details disrupting destiny each time we almost met. That tiny thing kept diverting us, by ruining it for Destiny.




"If I had met you at the opening I would have known you, but we would have gotten to know each other a little slower, more socially. I have no doubt we would have been together, but in a more conventional way.


And I doubt we would have known what we know now in just these last 24 hours. And we would have had children without thinking about this and these forces propelling us and forbidding us, these avenging, dueling angels if you will. We just would never have known.


Perhaps we had children in the past? Maybe not. I think not. I think we died of this in the past. Many times. To keep us from procreating. But there would have been no transgression for us in New York City, that way. Everything would have proceeded naturally and normally. We might have lived at the edge of mainstream, but that would be it, just the edge, the avant garde. And I would have continued discovering my way through painting, and you might have continued to be a psychic. And we would have grown old together normally. No we would have died of this first, long before.




"But in that moment of Transgression our Doubles appeared. When the Double appears, then Death is by our side.


Only I think this time we fully know it. And that is our trial in this lifetime. We know more than we ever did before. Before we were just very willing victims. Unconscious. Unknowing. We have to protect each other this time.




"Your latest psychic endeavor is to distract you from the deep knowledge of who and what you are and what we are. It was exciting enough to do that. So was my painting. My success with it. My independence from the standard art world. Mary Boone helped me as she has been doing this for strange and singular artists for a long time now.




But oh my god, this is way out of my league.




Without that moment of Transgression in the hallway we would never have known.




And then I hushed and lost myself in her, entering her anew over and over, slow and slower, until my control slipped and I began to lose it again. I couldn't stop. I couldn't have stopped if the hotel burned down around us.

I was gone.
.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Irresistible Destiny:Chapter 10 - Abyss

An object does not exist until and unless it is observed. – William Burroughs


For Savage's Hide and Drink Edward


The blood blossom flowers
At the fragile girl's throat
The vampire leans down
Holding her imprisoned supine form
His mouth open
His lips caressing
Silken skin suckling
Plumbing pulsing each precise
droplet
Throbbing into him
Drinking and calming his frenzy
Then his venom seals her wound.
Saving her for yet
Another day
Another night
Another time
Until...

BPOV




We are walking up the stairs to the fourth floor. The lift is broken. At the first landing I take off my shoes. As I walk up to the second landing I am unbuttoning my blouse and as I keep going up and up I am unzipping my skirt. Luckily I have no bra and panties on so I walk in the door and everything drops off and I am standing there in my socks. I turn around to Edward and he is just standing there in astonishment. I grab his pants and begin to unzip, but something is caught and I can't.


"Take them off! Take them off!" I scream at him. "Hurry, take them off" and he does. As his pants loosen I pull them down, go down on my knees and take him in my mouth. He grabs my hair but I am so violent he grabs the chair instead to steady himself.

I don't wrap my lips around him, I don't suckle him or suck him, I just open my throat and I don't even swallow him. My throat just opens and he slides down my throat and my throat muscles close around him and pull him deeper. My teeth are trying not to bite him but they want to. I begin to milk him with my throat.


He looks at me in horror. He tries to pull out but he can't. I threaten him with my teeth. I will bite him in half, shred him if he continues. He's mine, mine, all mine and I want him exactly where he is right now. I will not allow him to pull out of my mouth and throat.


"Stop Bella, please stop. Now. Before it's too late. Please, please."


Not a chance I say to myself.




And then he hits me hard across the face and in my pain and utter surprise, I gasp and he is gone. I scream at him, go after him, He pushes me down on the floor and crushes me with his weight. I hit him, bite, scratch, claw, kick, twist, but I cannot get away.


"NO! NO! No, don't stop me don't stop me, I have to have you I have to I have to I need you, please please please!"




"Bella, Bella, no no no, please Bella, no not this.
I know this. I know what it is.
You can't. I can't. We can't. No no no."




"Yes!" I scream. "It's all I want, all I want! I must have you like this!. I will die if I don't! Please, you don't understand! Please please please!"




"No, no, no. You don't know what you are asking. You don't know what you are starting. You don't understand this. You don't know about this. Trust me. I know about this. It's the most dangerous thing we could do.


Please just listen. Just trust me on this."


"No no no." I cry and sob. I plead. I kiss him. I beg. And he won't move off me. He won't budge an inch off me. I am pinned down in defeat. So I weep and weep for what he can't understand. He can't know how much I want him. How wonderful I will make him feel.


He can't know or he would never refuse me.

Irresistible Destiny - Chapter 9 - Abyss



Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny

Rothko's change, his passage almost without transition, to an immediate, definitive form. It is there all at once, perfectly mastered, end of story. And it is light-years away from what he was doing up to that point. (Cool Memories IV 84-85)




This is something entirely different from an evolution - even a creative evolution. It is an almost genetic impulse by which he separates himself miraculously from the artist he still was, with his place in the history of art, to be nothing but the sovereign medium of an extremely simple form, which no longer has anything to do with expressionism or abstraction." (Cool Memories IV 84-85)







Chapter 8 E
EPOV


Rothko
My god, who is she? She is so completely Other. I am in awe of her, amazed, and desperate to take her now right in the gondola and go to the bottom of the canal with her and drown. I have turned into a madman in my mind to even think like this. I touch her helping her out of the boat, and I can't take my hands off her, so I don't.




This is new to me.


We go inside and I am still processing what she has told me. She's an accessory to a $30,000,000 heist! Of priceless artworks! As if she is talking about baking gingerbread cookies!I can't let her do this. I have to protect her. She can't put herself in jeopardy like this. I couldn't live through it.




We wander and I don't take her to my paintings. There are two of them here as the curator couldn't decide which one to show. We do the usual talk talk about art as we look, but neither of us is really paying attention. I can't focus while I am feeling her next to me like this. This is our first date for crissakes. I'm concentrating all my energy on not throwing her down on the floor. I want to do it. What the fuck is the matter with me.




Then we turn a corner and she stops dead.




"That's yours, isn't it.  I know it is. I've seen your work before. I was supposed to be at your opening in New York, in Chelsea last fall. I was there ready to go in because Alice said I must see it, and I must meet you. When she met me at the door she said it was mobbed. Everyone was trying to talk with you, and it was knee deep in admiring women. She said it was really the wrong time to meet you, the wrong time to be able to contemplate your work, and that we would come back in the daytime when it was not so crowded. We went out to dinner and Jasper, that's her husband, got drunk at dinner because he made so much money from your sales. Oh my god, I don't believe this. Jasper is your agent and Alice is my best friend. She collects and she has a lot of your work. Naturally I've seen all hers. I went back and saw your show when I was alone and I spent three hours looking at it. What if we had met that night! I can't even imagine it!"




And she began to laugh and laugh.




How had I been missing her! All that lost time. But at any of the other meetings, it wouldn't have been the same. I could hardly have taken her at Mary Boone Gallery.




How would I have stopped myself? What would I have said? Something ordinary? And then we might not have known all that we know now. How long would it have taken us to figure this out? Would we ever have figured it out? No, we have met at exactly the right time and in the right way for us. The perfect time. The only time.




I sit on a bench, pull her onto my lap, and hold her tight, so tight. "Oh Bella," I breathe, just "oh Bella," over and over again. I feel her trembling in my arms, and she can't stop either. She is smiling and laughing and then she cries and sobs, then laughs through her tears again. We have been so close, so close all this time. Then we meet as strangers and I grab her and rip her clothes off and violate her. Who could have dreamed this up!




"There's a hotel near here. Let's go check in. We can come back tomorrow and look at my paintings and talk then. I can't focus now. I can't talk about them now the way I wanted to talk with you about them. I wanted to listen to what you see, listen to how you tell me what you see, tell you what I am trying to do with them. But that's all over now. I don't need to continue painting that way anymore. It was all for you, all to find you, and now that I have, I don't need to paint like that anymore. I don't know where I will go next, but it will be something totally new for me. A complete change, like the one Rothko made. No transition, no working my way through something.




"Just a jump over the abyss into the unknown."


Twilight: Irresistible Destiny - Chapter 8 -


Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny

BPOV




We are taking a private gondola to the art show. The vaporetto would be a noisy beast now, and the age old swaying motion of the gondoliers, so proud of their inherited skill, create such a quiet time for lovers like us. Edward says there will just be some tourists there, not the crowd that was at the opening. In fact we may have it to ourselves at times.




"So why are you in Venice, Bella?"




"Hmmmm. Other than the real reason you mean. Well, I'm a psychic," I say. "An expensive one. My client wants me to go to Livorno. It used to be Leghorn, you know. Anyway she wants me to find which canal Modigliani threw his sculptures in."


"What!" He says. "You were sent here to do what!"




"What. You didn't know this?" I say.


"No. We're talking about millions and millions of dollars here."




"I suppose so. All as a result of a major temper tantrum."




"Tell me the story."



Modigliani's Birthplace  - Leghorn
"Modigliani came from a wealthy privileged family in Livorno. He went to Paris to continue his art there because Livorno was so staid, so normal, so, well, you know. And Paris was the center of it all then. He drank a lot, used drugs a lot, but still he painted a lot. Then he became interested in sculpture. He didn't have any money so he used the cheap sandstone that was available in Paris, but it was soft, dusty and he already coughed a lot. He was on his way to tuberculosis even then. So it made him sick to use the sandstone. There's one of his sandstone carytids on the steps at the Barnes foundation in Merion. Have you seen it?"




"I have."




"I would bet all the canals in Venice that we just missed each other there."




Modigliani Drawing -  Museum Modern Art 1914
"Yes. I was supposed to go one day. I had the appointment. But something happened, I forget what, and I had to reschedule. I would not be surprised if you were there the day I was supposed to be there and couldn't go. Continue", he ordered with a smile.



I am imagining what would have happened if we had met at the Barnes. The beautiful grounds, the incredible aura of the place. I'm looking at him and I forget everything I was saying. My breathing hitches. The gondola is hitting choppy waters here and I don't dare move and rock the boat. The water is filthy.



"I forget what I was talking about."




"You were telling me about Modigliani."




"Oh," I said. "Yes. Yes I was. Now I remember."




Modigliani Drawing - Barnes(?) 1914 
I continue. "So he decided to pay his family a visit, go home, and use the wonderful and cheap marble they had in Livorno, Leghorn then, and spend the summer making sculptures out of it. He did. And they must have been lovely, breathlessly beautiful. At the end of the summer he gave a show of his work. It was laughed at, ridiculed, denounced, trashed. Just like Albert Barnes's collection. He was so furious he got a wheelbarrow, piled them in and went to the canal and dumped them. Very impulsive. Really a major temper tantrum as I said. And then he went back to Paris, drank, did drugs, made art and
died."




"And they are still there? I can't believe that."




"Well, it's very silty mud, and it's been so long, they figure that during the bombing in World War II they were buried so deeply by then that they were covered with it and protected. But this bit of information is in a biography that's not very academic, and no one reads it because it was written for a popular reading audience, so no one has looked for them.




"Besides the Italian government would never allow them to leave the country, which would make it difficult to make a fortune on them. Difficult, but not impossible and I think that's what my client has plans to do. But she can't go digging around a bunch of canals because then she would be above the radar. If she can precisely locate them, then she can pretend to be doing something else as she digs them up. Once they are out of the country they can be, you know, found somewhere, hidden in a barn or something, just waiting to be discovered by someone who happens by.




It's a creative plan if she can pull it off. So I am supposed to intuit where he dumped them. But I'm in Venice because I thought as long as I was so close, I might as well see it. And Alice wanted me to look at the art show, so that's why I'm here."




"But I know why I'm really here," she said darkly.




He looks at me in disbelief. Astonishment.




"I will go with you."




"Yes, I already know that you will. What point would there be to separate."
And I stop talking and just gaze at him without thinking of anything at all. I'm just looking and breathing, just looking and breathing. That's all.




I am beginning to tremble again, but now it's deep inside me.

Irresistible Destiny - Chapter 7 - House of the Sleeping Beauties

Go to fanfiction.net:

Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny
_____________________________________________________________________
What a pleasure to caress a woman without waking her! Simply to be for her a paradoxical dream in which her body alone would find pleasure. What obscure desire in her to be violated without knowing it?


With every woman, one would love to possess her without her being aware of it, leaving her free to take her pleasure without our knowing it.


He was probably still capable of awakening her with his roughness. So he thought; but his heart did not rise to the challenge. (Baudrillard - Cool Memories III - 21)





Chapter 7
EPOV
Oh this woman. I will live forever and still not get to the bottom of her. Listening to a symphony of one mosquito. Now I long to hear that music too. Ants who get drunk, kidnap caterpillars, as I want to kidnap her, stroke the caterpillars like musical instruments to listen to their music, never letting them go. I understand those insects with all my heart.




"Why am I here in Venice? It's obvious of course. There can only be one reason, don't you think?"




I smile at her, touched by all that she has said. Overwhelmed by her feelings and thoughts and understanding and all that she is that is so perfect for me. I breathe freely for what seems like the first time in my life.




"I came here for the Biennale, the art show. The opening was two weeks ago but for some reason," and here I smile again, " I found I couldn't leave. I had to cancel my plane ticket, take a loss on it, and still I couldn't understand why I couldn't leave. So I walked around, ate at small out of the way places, thought, drew some, wrote some, read some, but really just waited. I was waiting for you of course, but I didn't know that."




"Why did you come for the show? Are you in it?"




"I am. Have you seen it?"




"No, I was planning to go before I left though. I promised my friend Alice I would see it and report to her if there was anything she might want to research. So yes, I was definitely planning to see it. But now I want to see it with you. You will go with me, won't you. That's not a question. Is it still on the Lido the way it used to be?"



Oh god, the way she sees, she will see through to my core when she sees my painting. She will immediately know. I can't wait. I won't tell her anymore. I want to surprise her. But I am the one who will be surprised. I know it.




Her eyes are closing so I tell her to sleep as I want to watch her sleep. When she begins to breathe regularly I touch her gently. She moves, so I hold still on her. As her breathing deepens, I slowly move my hands to another part of her body. She is still quiet so I continue, slowly, gently with great tenderness. I love her so. I have always loved her, and I know that now. She turns her back to me and I lean in close. I know what I am planning to do. I want to be inside her, to sleep inside her, without her waking. I want to just breathe with her, to become one with her, to fill her dreams and have her fill mine. And I will take as long as I need to to sleep inside her.


I want to own her dreams too.