SNUFF (h.s.)

Chapter 05

Through The Looking Glass

Nora approached and strayed from his heart like a wave that strives to embrace the shore and later sequesters in the depths to desire the terra firma again. And as violently as it runs to your bare feet, rough and harsh makes the stone... Ιt thrashes it, only for her chest to swell and blow the spumes with fury towards her again. I'm not ire, I'm not oblivion. I'm full of yearning and glut! I crave...! I crave! I want to devour every desire that burns me!

Sergio talked like a poet and he had a dirty mouth sweet enough to say the name of Nora as if his tongue was molding pearls, so that she'll wear them and dance her malicious dance for him in front of the camera naked.

"I adore filming for you... You know that", she tied her itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot bikini in front of the long mirror while he was making his limonchello behind her after he'd filled a plate with what seemed to be fried chicken with some white salsa per intignoli.

"And yet, you haven't been up to something lately"

"I have ideas...", she was staring at him through the looking glass, he was whipping his plate and fixing the food in it to look beautiful. He turned towards her and her eye shadow was sleeker than his cold drink.

"You have ideas but you shoot none of them"

"You're a grumpy old man, aren't you?", she smiled as he pointed at her with his limonchello and his pinky up wearing a gold chevalier like her armband.

"It's for your own good", he took the plate and went upstairs wearing his leather sandals. He was no fan of the barefoot culture, he was much more of a coquettish man. Nora knew his way of walking and she was certain of his routine, in any time she would hear – oh there it is! She closed her eyes and laughed, she knew him alright by now. The music played like the fog that fades from a mirror, like a sigh that turns into a melodic murmur.

When she was all dolled-up, she went to join him on the deck of the yacht. She raised her arm to search to the right, she turned to the left but couldn't find what she was looking for. Sergio was sitting on his chaise-longue with one foot over the other and didn't differ from a cigar. Nora felt like smoking one now.

"Where's Harry?"

"He'll be here... And then we'll leave"

"What time was he supposed to arrive?", she kneeled beside him. The food was steaming and the dampness was streaming down the crystal glass. She opened the cigar box under the rolling cabinet and took one. Sergio had the finest "Apache" cigars because she smoked them. She cut it with her skillful hands and he was watching every movement – the scratching of her polished nail across the match to light a thick flame. The azure smoke was coming out of her mouth like a wave and her teeth were the spume – the adorned spume!

"As soon as he does his job"

"I must talk to him"

"For what?"

"I was thinking of something richer", she stood up and went down the mosaic stairs of the pool next to him, "Something finer... Like an erotic movie"

"Erotic movie?"

"No... It will still be a porno", she waved her shoulders and wrinkled her nose like a child, "It's simple. I want something interesting"

"Like what?", even though his plate was full of a delicious salsa he didn't smear himself. Never was there a dirty part of Sergio's.

"I want fine costumes", she moved her fingers with the cigar between them, "Delicate fabrics... like Liz Taylor's", she pointed at his chest tattoo and he caressed it with a smile, "Different in every scene... a tiny classical Hollywood film"