"It reminds me of coke honey," he mumbled behind her succulent backside.
There was only the flashing light from the stereo. A flicker of a candle at the end of its purple scented wick. There was only this moment in time. Even though time didn't exist anymore. The darkly somewhat lit room- the furry LeoZane kitten chewing and attacking their loaded toes, with minuscule droplets of blood from skin spilling off ankles in slow motion un washed stained cum sheets. It still smelled like raspberry punches, & plum apple flavored margaritas. Flashing on and off. Flashing on and off. A scorpion ran quickly across the white wall, un detected, as the bodies, 2 of them, inter mingled.
Malory was choking in the mayonnaise; it was covering her white fleshy skin, as the pickle juice ran down her horny face.
At first she felt real comfort in Deral's arms, but when they spoke that first last statement, she didn't want to pull out the props that were part of the so-called play.
"I'm pregnant you sick bastard!" Malory screamed, as Deral mounted her from behind.
Deral said nothing as tears dripped down her green blue eyes. He stuck his weener in the back of her butt. She tensed a bit. A tear fell onto her back. He rammed slowly, like some artist crying in his own self-portrait.
"and u have nothing to say!, that's just typical of you Deral! Nothing to say when you can't deal with what u have done!" she screamed as the sweat dripped down their skin. Darel had plenty to say. Darel had plenty to die for. But at that particular time, his mouth could not speak, only his eyes, shed droppings of pent up salty tears. "Flashing on and off. Flashing on and off!" He screamed finally. His stomach arching towards climactic dreams of time- scents filling the room.
They woke up with almost erased memories. Little by little as the day went on, and they worked they crap jobs, the scent of afresh cat turd seeped into both their stuffed noses, leaving both twitchy, irritated, and quite possibly in love.
Deral bought the farm off his cousin vinny. Chester had just died, so Mallory had a bit of extra income, from the will.
"whats it matter then doll?"
"nothing" she smiled.
"that's what I been saying all along>"
"I know my sweet, my love, my one true thing."
"Lets watch jeopardy and order a new couch honey."
"Ok" he said, rubbing her growing belly.
Deral's kid looked like a wet half eaten turd when it came out of Mallory's cunt one Sunday sunny afternoon. It turned out to be a biter, always biting his worried parents and eating all the pickles that co workers got in big mailed boxes of euphoric glimpses in times better traveled.
"what we gona do ?" she asked, beer foam dripping down her sexy lips.
"we gonna do the right thing honey." He barfed.
"what's that?" she asked
Darel went back into his non-talking mode, as they took the product out to the pond to see if it could swim as well as it could scream. The next day darel got a job on a fishing boat in the polluted gulf of Mexico, Mallory became a farmer, and they planted a new life together, never forgetting about the old one that was still swimming around in that pond, waiting for a life jacket.
"aint the sun nice today?"
"sure is honey, sure is."
a guitar gently stroked its strings in the distance. They embraced each other, trying to forget, trying to move ahead, only to take steps backwards, picking up the fragments they both never discussed.
" I want to fly around the sun and leave a mark on our love, so that all can dance with us in the fresh air of life filled forces, as we eat each others tears, and fuk like bats in the trees."
"oh shut the fuk up, u dumb fukin bitch!" darel yelled.
They stared at each other. Then laughed, hugged, had sex, went to bed, woke up and fished in the now ancient pond.
"Isn't it pretty? Isn't it the best thing in the hole wide world honey?"
Darel got out the hog ties, and forced himself to fight the sensitivity that was engulfing his once ugly soul.
"It's the most beautiful thing I ever caught, and to think we through it away, to think, I love you Mallory, just to think, " he mumbled, tying himself in knots with the rope.
They woke up in each other's arms, crusty & ready for whatever was placed before them.
This story Copyright 2001 Nicholas Morgan.
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