Shocked….. We are coming out???!!! Right result? Wrong decision? Who knows? But I do know that someone somewhere is making a profit. The same people who would have made a profit if the vote had gone the other way.
Which way did I vote? You first………..
I’m at home. There’s thunder rumbling, the deluge is a mix of soft hail and chubby rain drops.
Is it weird that I like to watch the jagged forks of lightening as they split the gloomy grey sky? I’d love to know where they come to earth, bringing flames and destruction and terror. I want to be standing a foot away and witness it, feeling the earth tremble under my feet, breathing in the sweet aroma of fresh, transient ozone.
I’ve dusted and hovered the whole house; chopped the vegetables; diced and browned the meat and tipped the whole lot into a slow-cooker. The cake is in the oven and will be ready when he comes back from the shop. Job done.
Now I am sitting on the bay window seat in the den, staring into the distance; my mind wondering aimlessly, while my fingers tap blindly at the keys of my laptop. In a minute I’ll look down and read what they’ve written. It happens sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly disenfranchised from my life.
I know…. I should be happy. What have I got to be miserable about? I am happy – most of the time. It’s in my nature to be so. He says that I can find the absurd in almost anything.
But there are days like these, mere moments really, when I feel as if I’m drifting in the emptiness of an endless void; alone in the dark, without something solid to grab on to.
In my nostrils there’s the reek of wet dog and soggy pussy. The man took the hound out walking, and they both came back looking like a pair of drowned rats. The pussy, and I am not referring to my own, although it is perhaps a little soggy since we played lets-make-a-baby at around eight this morning, (though strangely I didn’t cum this time), is sitting near my feet staring out of the window, probably wondering where her sister is. She’s been missing for nearly a week.
It’s Christian’s birthday today. I met him form lunch yesterday and gave him his present. He turned up at the restaurant with Inga in tow. They have a very special relationship now, like his and mine, and I know she also sleeps with him sometimes when she is in town. I can’t help but imagine them curled up together. Do they spoon? The mental image amuses me; she, who has been penetrated only twice by a men’s penis (different men that is. How man times her husband screwed her, I haven’t a clue); and he, who has never penetrated a vagina.
Inga was as beautiful and as alluring as ever. Floating across the floor, as if she was walking on a tightrope made of fine gossamer, her hips swaying slightly, unintentionally provocative. She is aware, but doesn’t care, that as she saunters by all eyes are drawn to her, men and women, in lust and envy.
We exchanged the customary cheek kisses. In her clear blue eyes I read the details of our shared secret. She is like a book…. open to me now.
Oops…there goes the bell. The cake is ready. I wonder if there is a bun in my oven. I hope so. That would make him very happy.