Melodie Hongroise

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emmer effer

some days are better than none

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Melodie Hongroise

And still the perspective failed, white windows drooped, still this melodie, always this melodie, this melodie hongroise. There was a whiff of fetid air, the smell of sewage water. She looked into his handsome face. The absence of muzak was something she wasn’t used to. She laughed in spite of her discomfort, grateful for the momentary distraction. She never thought she would end up being somebody’s mistress.

‘Where is it! Quick!’ he hissed. It felt as if she was running only to come back to the same place. It was beginning to be deafening, like it was boring a hole. Water was seeping through. The wind was cool and it tickled as it blew around her, whispering, caressing, touching. His skin had become weedy and his eyes were full of eel eggs. The nipples erect with anger.

Oh God. She had no idea where the water was coming from but it took only seconds for a puddle to form on the floor. She felt around the walls, trying to find something she could hold on to. “Leave me alone!” she cried, violently slapping the water, as if that would prevent the thing from coming closer.

He felt his erection grow. “You’ve decided to be nice I hope.

‘No sir.

Perhaps she should tell him. She was tired of always needing something that was unavailable to her. There are goblins. Petals designed by a cubist. Perhaps she couldn’t see them. She shook her head beginning to feel the dread rising in her toes and seeping around her ankles.

“No!” she pushed away, her legs tangled and she half went under, turning the fall into the beginning of a swim she reached the other side and heaved herself out. She felt a hand tap her shoulder and winced.

She grinned.

You know this is the way it should be. It was very quiet. He moaned as her hand stroked his very erect penis and then let it go. It was a game to her.

‘Shut up, and listen,’ she said. Idiot, she thought. ‘So you’re the hero.’

The wind blew her red hair back. She could hear his heart beating beneath his chest, under the skin. She lay back on the couch and looked at the ceiling. Her breasts were bare, red nipples like strawberries perched on cream. It made her feel culpable, guilty. Then she exploded into an orgasm, intense and bloody, her body shuddering and shaking against the cool liquid that surrounded her. Her lips bubbled and foamed.

It was awesome. It was unlike any language he’d heard before.

“It is time”, she heard herself shout. She grasped onto a blanket and started to scream. Red hair, white skin, skull eyes.

“What happened?” She finally looked at him, calmer at last.

She looked around. She had imagined a lot of things.

“Don’t keep it in me flippin’ head, do I.”

“You don’t have a head.”

“That’s why I work here, actually. It’s such a good location.”