Disclaimer- This is a work of Fiction. Name, character, places and incidents are either product of author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
All rights reserved.
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"As dark turns dusk, the Great Horned Owl looks down into a forest clearing. His eyes are tuned for optimal night vision. But more importantly, he listens. There is another nighttime hunter, a deer mouse who is patrolling the leaves for bugs. Now, the owl unleashed another weapon- fringed wing feathers muffles their flapping sounds as he swoops down for the kill. And the mouse has no clue what's coming."
Javier Carlsen was sprawled on his large l-shaped matte dark purple living room sofa in front of the huge flat screen television. His legs stretched out. His gym grey shorts riding up his thigh and a beer bottle among many dangling from his fingers.
His light sea-green eyes were dimmed and hollowed as he sat there and watched the nature show documentary on wildlife predators. He hits the middle of his bare chest with his free hand formed into a fist and releases a fleet of burps. It's been finally the end of the day and he could rest and not look at another chess board.
Beer bottles lay scattered in line near him on the seats of sofa. Bottle caps were skittered around here and there on the simple yet elegant wooden flooring. The remote was placed in a delicate angle on the arm of the sofa. It dangled with each movement he made as he adjusted himself to a right position every ten-twenty seconds.
He tangled his toe with each other, scratching a itch that seemed too far away from his reach. The air conditioner blew overhead behind him, the cool air hitting the back of his neck and spreading down his naked back.
As he continued to watch the owl eviscerate the mouse, his stomach rumbled and his stupid cock twitched. He often enjoyed the primal reaction he got as he viewed animal planet. Especially the predator. They were discreet, calculating, patient and goal oriented. Like himself.
Javier had a very good quality life so far. His father being titled as the grandmaster of chess so as a young boy, he was groomed into an early training. It's not that he didn't love chess. He did but he also loved his outside life. Using the tricks of chess, he enjoyed playing games with whomever he met. Most particularly women.
A sound ruffled behind him.
With a lazy turn, he looked over his shoulder to check. The balcony glass door on his right side was shut. He couldn't remember if he locked it.
Gazing at the sky morphing into a light pink blue stormy evening sky, he sipped his beer. It was warm now. It didn't settle right against his throat. He placed the bottle back on the small wooden round table in front of him.
Groaning, he stood and stretched.
His back cracked with a resounding release. He twisted his torso and bent his head side to side. And he sighed.
With a yawn, he strolled to his kitchen. Reaching the silver refrigerator, he opened the door and grabbed himself another ice cold beer.
His head ached and he placed the cold glass on his forehead to ease the tension hurting his brain fibers. Playing chess everyday had its toll on the brain. It hurt each meaty side of his gray matter.
Another sound crackled.
His head tilted to the sound. When he looked over to the balcony again, the door was open. Wasn't it closed before? Maybe he had too many a drink, or his brain was too sore to comprehend. He wasn't sure which.
YOU ARE READING
Veraciously Yours,
Romance"Such a waste for a pretty face." Zeva circled around him. Javier was tied to the chair. His hands bound behind him in a tight knot. His legs were stretched and tied to each leg of the chair. His mouth gagged. He made a garbled sound. "What's that...
