Love's Suicide

Chapter 7

Chapter 7





         The two days seemed to move through time in slow motion as she went about her daily routine……………





         She got up and fed the bird, read the paper, went upstairs to her office and wrote a few more pages of her novel, then it was time to get the mail.





         She walked slowly out of her office, down the stairs, grabbed a windbreaker hanging on the hall-tree near the door. walked out… Lord, it’s windy. She thought to herself as she walked to the curb. She walked in the grass. It felt good on her bare feet.





         She reached the curb and stepped into the street. “Ouch!” The asphalt burnt her feet as she opened the box, reached in and took the mail out while quickly shifting her weight from the left foot to the right and back again. Closed the box and stepped onto the grass again in one quick movement.





         She stood at the curb for a few minutes, letting the cooler temperature of the grass soothe her near scalded feet. Then walked back to the house, she grumbled as she looked through the mail. “Bills, bills…………all BILLS!” She wrinkled her nose and exclaimed, “Yuck!” and shoved them in the windbreaker’s pocket.





         The door squeaked as she entered the house. Her bird squawked his usual greeting…





         “Hi baby!” she said and plopped down at the table in the kitchen with the mail piled in front of her.





         “Hi Baby”  She heard the bird say in a clear voice and suddenly she felt incomplete. Like her life meant nothing……….





         She imagined him saying that to her and wondered What was his voice like? Was he squeaky like a few of the vocalists out there? Or did he have a deep, harmonious voice? She thought it was the latter and her mind ran away with the thought.


         


         Kyra looked up from the mail and could not believe her eyes………….





         He sat across from her. He was tall and looked cramped at the small table. His long brownish red hair hung in an uncombed and tangled mess around his face, his eyes were heavy with sleep. They seemed to have a voice of their own as he looked up at her as she stared at him while he caressed the mug of coffee.





         He looked so adorable sitting there in his hastily thrown on jeans, bare chest and shoeless. She wanted to have him for breakfast but he was pushed for time and had only an hour before he had to go to the studio.





         He took a sip of the hot liquid, looked up at her and made a face. With a smile he said, “Hi babe.” as if this had been the first greeting of the day. But it was nearly one in the afternoon.





         When he spoke, his voice held that accent she couldn’t quite place though he spoke with perfect syntax. It wrapped around her like a blanket soothing her somewhat frayed nerves and quieted her doubts. It made her feel safe like she was never alone.





         He sounded a bit distant though……… as if he was still asleep. He put the mug to his mouth again and made another face as he sipped the contents. The coffee was bitter and cooling very rapidly now.  She giggled and returned her attention to the mail and had begun to open it.





         He stood, walked to where she sat and stood behind her, leaned down to whisper in her ear………. “What is so funny?”. As he spoke he rubbed his hand softly over her bare shoulder.





          She turned and began to say, “The faces you make.” but was cut short by his embrace.





         He bent down, seized her lips with his own. The feel of his lips was so sweetly intoxicating that desire suddenly burned through her. A raging fire that consumed her. She began to ache, remembering how his lips felt when he kissed every inch of her body. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sudden and unexpected delight of the treat standing before her.





         It seemed the kiss lasted forever and when she opened her eyes, the vision was gone and so was he. She could still feel the touch of his lips and knew instinctively that it was not real. Her skin erupted goose-bumps and she began to shake as if cold.





         Her vision remained black until she closed her eyes again and shook her head trying to clear it after such a vivid daydream and when she opened them, she was back in her kitchen, back in the coldness of reality with no one but her bird for company.





         “Damn!” She mumbled as her senses normalized and cast off the gentleness of his touch as she shook from it.





         On weak knees, she rose from the chair and walked from the kitchen, up the stairs to her office. For nearly ten minutes, she sat in front of the computer dazed and dreaming. Then gathered her wits enough to start writing. Only the words would not come. She had lost the words that just ten minutes before had exploded in her head.