The events of the previous two days had exhausted me, and I dreamed deeply...
The room felt familiar, like walking into your childhood ice cream shop two decades later, all of the feelings still there. The sights, though faded and worn, were the same; it still smelled like ice cream; the little bell over the door to announce the entrance of a patron still tinkled mischievously; the owner's hair had gone gray, but his welcoming smile had not.
Despite the nostalgia, the room I found myself in was covered in a thick haze. It could have been a classroom, a lecture hall, or an office. It could have been anything, really. I racked my brain but couldn't figure it out. Each time I tried to focus on a piece of furniture it would go fuzzy, but the details in my peripheral vision were clear as day. So I would swing my gaze around, only to find that the new object of my attention had gone fuzzy now too.
"Stop letting your thoughts wander," the woman before me said. "I need your full attention."
"You have it," I responded.
"Then put your hands in my hair and let's forget the world."
I did.
The sex was passionate and wild. We staggered about the room, knocking different objects off of tables and listening to them shatter expensively on the floor. We laughed hysterically. With my attention fully on her, she, too, had gone fuzzy in my vision. I could barely see the outline of her body, but I knew - I knew - that she was important to me. Our connection was bottomless.
I didn't know what shared experiences could have forged a bond so tempered and strong, but it was there nonetheless. I felt it in the most essential part of my soul.
When we were done stumbling around the room we lay on the ground, eschewing any of the fuzzy pieces of furniture, panting and laughing and bone-tired. Our hands twined together easily.
After a while she spoke, no longer giddy or out of breath.
"It's almost time."
"I know," I said.
"Are you ready to start again?"
And there it was, the tiny imperfection that had so recently appeared in the steel of our connection. I knew she wasn't talking about sex this time. "I'm not sure."
She sat up. "Get dressed. Take a shower. I'll meet you in thirty."
YOU ARE READING
Vicious Memories
Mystery / ThrillerTHE MAZE RUNNER for ADULTS --- Things Oliver doesn't know: How he washed up on this island. What the blank keycard in his pocket opens. Who he murdered. When Oliver wakes up he's drowning in the surf, with no memory of who or where he is. Before he...
