My Story

The edge

“Sometimes, I lie. Even when I don’t have a reason…I find myself unable to resist the urge”, she explains.
Still looking outside the window, she absent-mindedly runs her left hand back and forth over the large square table placed against the wall. From across the room, lounged on a couch and looking intently at her, he gently asks,” Are you lying to me now?”
She lets out a short laugh, her stare to the outside unwavering. He takes a sip from the glass of brandy in his hand, his gaze still on her. She sighs and slowly walks away from the table towards him while she avoids looking at him.  She stops and sits on the floor away from him. With her big t-shirt barely covering her thighs, she stretches out her long naked legs before him. He longs to stroke them, from her feet up. Instead he remains on the couch and takes another sip from his glass. But even the mounting effect of alcohol could not steady his heartbeat. There she is, a torment to his dark dormant side. Pure bliss is his helplessness to fight this torment. Then she looks up at him with eyes so beautiful but devoid of emotions. And his heart stops. She is, he finally accepts his doom. Then she smiles with one side of her mouth and defiantly says, “Yes, I am.”


5 thoughts on “The edge

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