Heart

Two

In the middle of the night, on a street shrouded in darkness, a square of soft golden light spilled out of a house window and gently illuminated a crisply cut lawn. A silhouette briefly wafted across the square and then disappeared. Inside the window, a small, cozy living room could be seen, warmed by a gently glowing fireplace. Off to the side, a burgundy arm chair with a high back supported a pensive-looking man. He was sunk down deep into the seat cushion, legs stretched out far in front of him, an arm draped limply over the side of the chair. The other held a half-empty martini glass, and he rolled the liquid around inside absently. Across his lap sat a leather bound photo album, full of his memories and accomplishments. He hadn’t looked at it in years. He’d had no desire to.

But now his desires had been awakened. By a girl. Her face had filled his vision since the first day he saw her, and ever since then, she had invaded his mind. She kept him awake at night. She kept him distracted during the day. He didn’t like this uncontrolled situation.

This was not love. Nothing of the kind.

This was not lust, although she was a very attractive girl.

This was about relief. He needed her out of his mind. He needed to get his fill of her, and then once satisfied, she would be gone. Then the relief would come. And everything would be under control once more.

He brought the martini glass to his lips and took a sip. He normally didn’t drink, but this was a celebration. It’d been a while since he’d had reason to celebrate, and it felt good.

He cast his gaze downward, glancing over the newspaper clippings and pictures he had in the photo album. He nostalgically traced the edges of a photo with the tips of his fingers. Ah, yes. A half smile quirked his lips. Those good days were long in the past, but he was bringing them back---slowly. 

Time to do some planning.