Kristiel Pherahim (Kriss)
I grew up in Porter’s Bar, the place on the beach, where you make a quick dollar and lose your virginity early. I know from experience. Since the age of ten, I’ve played poker with the little storeroom crabs that came in every Tuesday. I don’t remember coming here to the Earth from the heavens, but I knew my identity. The crescent circles linked together by a ring and a sphere above them marked me an Angel of Water. At night the sea outside my window called my name whispering its siren song through the windows, ‘Kristiel Pherahim answer your calling, come out upon the sea, rock the shores, and use us to your advantage.’ The ding of the door opening broke my train of thought.
I was serving a pitcher of beer to the table of college dudes, when she walked in. Danielle, a perfect hustler in her game of prostitution, enraptured drunken men in her hazel eyes full of longing and full red lips, entrancing them in a sexual daze. Tonight, she entered the bar with arrogant air to her.
The tension between us always heightened the senses; I hated her for being a whore and she hated me for being an ass. The truth was she was a beautiful woman, and I could like her if she wasn’t living dirty lifestyle. That’s why we played these little spiteful games, I just adored. Danielle’s beautiful black hair fell right above the mid-point of that skin-tight scarlet dress of her.
“Hey Danielle,” I said with the nicest smile I could muster. “Nice to see you fully clothed for once. What’s the special occasion?” I continued as she walked passed me to the bar.
She simply hissed. “Don’t talk to me.” as she ordered a Barefoot Moscato.
As she walked by me again with her drink, I groped her ass through her outfit, grazing the swollen skin of fresh whipping welts; her usual punishment from her pimp, Big Stevie. I heard her inhale sharply. I felt sorry for her… sometimes.
I chuckled a bit. “Danielle, No panties today what surprise. Huh, I didn’t think that brain of your could comprehend a preparation for a night out to town.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? You are always pissing me off.” she faced me, and gave me a glare full of animosity.
I backed up. “Danielle baby, stop giving people the clap for a second, and back off. You never want to have a civilized conversation. What’s the record from last night?” I asked, pretending to be intrigued.
“What record?” she snapped.
I clapped my hands loud enough for people in the bar to notice. “You know how many people you gave AIDs to last night.”
Her cold hand slapped my face, and I dropped the pitcher of beer.
“Go to hell, before you get us both in trouble with Big Stevie.” She said behind a fake smile. Danielle went to the back of the bar, to Mike who ran the local market.
I wondered why she chose to sell her body as a profession. There was a time before I figured out what she was when I actually liked her, and was willing to love her. I got close to her, feeling her breath on my face.
“You truly are a creep.” She threw her drink; it burned my eyes like a fire atop grease.
“You bitch!” I screamed. I wiped my eyes on my sleeves. My eyes were throbbing and I knew my eyes were bloodshot red.
She sneered. “I’m not a bitch.”
“That’s right,” I began to enjoy this game were playing. “You’re a hoe, sorry for the misunderstand-”
