Short Storys

Necrophilia

I am with the most beautiful woman in the world. She has wonderful red hair, blue eyes and full lips. Her makeup was always perfect and her skin was flawless and pure. Also the sexual body environments were just perfect. I could not have found a better woman by far. Until now, all relationships always went wrong somehow. The women made fun of my introverted nature or called me sick. But sometimes the taste was just too different. This woman, however, was exactly my type. We could often spend a good time in the cafe. At some point we dared more and it went to my house. After that we went to her apartment. Her parents had been dead for a long time, this was unfortunate and often seemed to depress her. She was a lonely pearl, never really looked at. But I would continue to look at her for ages. But every love has ups and downs. It was one night, I finally wanted to marry her but somehow something went wrong. She was crying because of her job as a writer. I couldn't understand why she was so attached to the job, she didn't earn much and her talents lay elsewhere. Somehow that just seemed to make her angrier, she made accusations, said I was too interested in myself. I was full of despair, thought now also the perfect woman would leave me. Anger and panic made me blind. One bang and the conflict was over. I had been mistaken about her. She remained perfect. The next morning she apologized directly, quit her job, promised that I would not have to pay for her anymore and slept with me. An absolutely wonderful feeling. I was soon the happiest person in the world. Today, too, I went down to her. Her fair, pale skin shone in the light. Worms crawled out of her withered lips. Spider webs decorated her hair. She might be fucking dead, but I don't care. She was just way too perfect.