The VIRGIN STRIPPER

13

****Dave Morgan****

We walked in silence as Lisa led a path to whatever grave she was visiting. The lights were dimmed with the tree branches whispering above us thus giving  a more amplified feel to the  loneliness between us.

Watching her walk a little slowly  as we approached a few isolated graves at the farthest end of the cemetery, I slowed as well making sure I remained behind her at all times.

We'd barely reached the only grave in sight when she furiously turned and walked away without saying a word. It only took me a second to realize that all the while she'd been avoiding my gaze, she was crying.

Running after her retreating figure, I took hold of her arm and spun her to face me.

"What's-" her tear-streaked face begged me not to ask so instead of inquiring about her reaction, I pulled her close to me and held her tight in my arms.

I stayed frozen for a while once her body warmth rested on my chest and inhaled deeply as I circled my arms around her shaking shoulders. The scent of her cologne and hair spray hit me the moment I took in air into my lungs. - It all seemed so exotic, so fresh and all too relaxing for my own good. I'd been lying if I said she didn't smell heavenly.

Aaaaannd..., you're lost!

Sighing I pulled her away from me with a nagging urge to leave her cuddled in my arms for as long as she would want.

"I want to be alone," she said wiping at her tears furiously once I pulled her away from me.

"That's not a good idea," I told her  silently as I followed her labored steps towards the cemetery's gate. "Maybe we could get coffee till you calm down a-" I stopped when she came to an abrupt stop and whirled around to look at me.

"I don't want you anywhere near me," she said with a steely coldness in her voice and my eyes fell from her face.

How was I supposed to make things right if she kept pushing me away all the time?

"Look, we might have our personal differences but I just want to help. You can go back to hating me when you feel a little bit better." I told her and watched her face morph into consideration for a second longer before she turned around and started walking away from me without saying a word.

Following closely behind her, I watched how her fists formed every time I tried to catch up with her or when I cleared my throat trying to ask her something.

Finally out of the cemetery with the still silence we'd walked in before, she stopped and looked far into the street we stood on. I just stood there watching her as her eyes narrowed into concentration while her lips thinned into silence.

What I'd give to know what she was thinking about at the moment!

Tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, she turned to look at me with a passive expression on her face.

"My mom." she told me quietly and looked away from my face, "I haven't visited her since," she curled her lips inwards and nibbled at them bitterly, "Since I was last here during her funeral." Now her words were rushed with the same harshness she'd nibbled her lips with.

Looking ahead of us, I spotted a late night coffee house still with a few customers idling around the place. Would she talk to me over coffee? I wondered as I turned to look at her weak almost vulnerable self looking in the same direction but with a distant uncomprehending look in her eyes.

"What was she like?" I asked silently as I walked towards the coffee house prompting her to walk beside me in silence for a moment till we were halfway across the street.