My fingers wrap delicately around the cheap knife's plastic handle, inspecting the chipped, blunt blade for old food or soap scum.
Clean.
It would shine with my reflection if not for the tarnish.
Nerves churn my stomach like a virus as the room temperature metal presses against the perfectly rounded watermelon. I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, barely able to contain myself as the tip slides ever so gently against the matte, deep green rind, indicative of the melon's ripeness.
They say the uglier the melon, the more delicious it will be. But oh, how ravishing this fruit looks.
A sexy, rounded curve to ensure optimal sweetness. I trail the tip over the rind, surely teasing the eager melon.
Supposed "blemishes" add a unique texture to this beauty. Large webbing screams how delectable this treat will be dripping over my fervent tongue. The orange field spot nearby only assures me of this. She is a rare beauty indeed.
I wonder how many idiots passed by her, poorly judging her taste through her features, entirely unaware of her status.
I almost moan as the knife slides deep into her core. I bare my full weight down, desperate to hear that cracking noise as she opens herself to me, to see her rind separating and revealing her inner divinity.
Despite my pleas, she continues to withhold the sight. Her juices pour out onto the countertops, the liquid dribbling onto my exposed feet as it flows over the edge. It is a bewitching vision, nurturing improper thoughts that I cannot seem to thrust from my mind.
But, alas, the gods have alternative plans for this delectable fruit and I.
In my haste, I had forgotten she was not secured. As I bear the knife down deeper into her, she scoots and scurries. She desires closeness to me, which cannot yet be achieved in her current state.
In one fateful moment, she falls off the ledge. In the same breath, I stumble, losing my footing in her juices.
My heart drops. It feels as if I'm watching in slow motion, helpless to save my beloved.
No...
No!
I will not stand idly by as my prize perishes at the cruel hands of gravity, her beauty surely destroyed if she shatters all over my kitchen floor.
I reach for the knife, honed in on my target like a determined missle.
Fingers wrap once more around the handle, stopping her unfavorable descent midair.
I take a moment to feel relief. To savor this sensation. I saved her. I caught her before she had a chance to hit the ground. It even brings a smile onto my face.
Dread instantly replaces every ounce of relief within me, multiplying itself tenfold.
She slides off the knife. Her decent begins once more, too fast this time. I scramble to catch her again, not even having a second to drop the knife still firmly within my grasp.
This proves to be a fatal error.
In my haste, I manage to gash myself. The pain is instant. My skin separates from itself in a near perfect line as the blade slides through it. Blood trickles, then rushes down my arm, through my fingers, onto the floor.
Her descent ends on my foot, the weight of her drop feeling like it shatters my bones.
Only then does she finally crack open, revealing the ruby red hue within.
I drop to the ground, bleeding and battered. Tears flow from my eyes, mixing with blood and juice on the floor.
Oh, she is ever so beautiful. If only it hadn't taken such pain to get to this moment.
I reach, stretching my wounded arm to her. My hand, smeared with my own fluids, digs into her crisp innards. Juice and blood mix in the most exhilarating duo, crimson coating the fruit as I pull it to my parted lips.
The metallic taste of blood is a perfect precursor to the cool, mellow sweetness of the watermelon. I crunch, hardly giving myself time to swallow before shoving yet another piece into my mouth.
There I sit, engaging myself in such hedonistic pleasure. Juice leaks down my chin, neck, chest, soaking into my shirt.
There is a certain beauty in the loss of all reason, to willingly thrust oneself into a deep pit of sensual indulgence for only the sake of self-gratification. There is nothing virtuous in such a depraved act, making it so entirely human. After all, is it not nature to satisfy one's own desires, no matter how indecent or degrading they may be?
Etc etc, the watermelon is sexy, you get the point
