Friday, January 15, 2010

Flash Fiction Friday

This is a little something I cooked up for a picture prompt some time ago... content warning, by the way.

I love you.

The words swarm in my mind, wanting to escape. But I won’t let them.

The beach is beautiful at night, and the sand is cool on our naked feet as we saunter across, hand-in-hand. I swing in front of her, and clasp her other hand in mine.

Her skin is soft, smooth, and milky white. Her cerulean eyes gaze back into mine, so much like Renee’s. And the look in them, the curiosity and excitement, is the same as Renee’s. She knows what I want to say, she can read me as easily as I can read her.

I love you.

My heart aches; I still can’t say the words. Why?

Renee? But that was so long ago, have I not healed since then?

She releases my hands and throws her arms around my neck and kisses me with fierce passion; she knows my pain, she read it in my eyes. I crush her to me, returning the kiss with a passion that I’ve not felt since Renee passed away.

She knows about Renee, I haven’t kept that from her, but she doesn’t know the full story.

The truth is that I first met Renee a thousand years ago. I watched her grow old and die in my arms. Burying her was the hardest thing I had ever done. Twelve years later I buried our son, Paul, next to her.

I had never loved anyone as deeply as I had loved Renee and Paul, who was so much like his mother. As the decades turned to centuries, I never thought I’d love anyone again.

Then I met Jasmine, the beautiful blonde I now hold in my arms.

A playful push and now I’m on the ground, and she straddles me.

“It’s ok,” she whispers as she caresses my cheek with her fingertips. “You don’t have to say it.”

I thrust my lips into hers and paw at her clothes in ravenous desire.

Can I handle this again? Burying a fourth wife? More children?

Jasmine may never replace Renee, but I do love her; and when she dies, a piece of me will stay with her and love her forever. Just like Renee, and Munya, and Felicia.

I will tell her my story: my life, my curse, and my love. And then let her make her decision.

Her nails dig into my skin and I capture her moans with my mouth as we both reach the crescendo.

She won’t push me away. She’ll happily live out the rest of her life with an undying man.

We both collapse onto the sand, sweaty and exhausted. She rests her head on my chest and I hold her close, clasping one of her hands in mine.

I love you.

I love you.

Still, even now, I can’t say the words.

I love you.

I love you.

Damn my weakness. Damn my cowardice. I love her, why can’t I tell her?

I love you.

“I love you.”

1 comment:

  1. I love the use of repetition in this story; it really shows how it can add power to a poignant scene. We really FEEL what the narrator feels, his pain and frustration and blockedness. This is very well-written, Lucius; thank you for sharing it with us.