This choice: “Thanks for buying me a shoe pet!,” Momo calls to her friend. (AWARE) • Go Back...Chapter #6Sweat-cloth zeppelin by: Juliet   “Thanks for buying me a shoe pet!,” Momo spoke to her friend, now speaking in English, presumably so you would understand her. Her smiling face was framed by two wavering locks of black hair, the rest tied back in a bun. She looked down at you brightly and almost disarmingly, with eyes that analytically took you in more like a child admiring a new toy than as a person. Momo put a hand to her face as she knelt down to observe you more closely.
“I’ve never had one like you,” she noted to you. “A white one, you’re not from Korea?”
Questions were too much to deal with; you were still figuring out if what you were looking at was real or not. Blurting out literally whatever, you tripped and stammered over a response: “I… uh, I- No…?,” you shouted, grimacing at your awkwardness. Momo appeared no less enthused to hear you speak, her open mouth curving into a somewhat patronizing grin. You must have looked adorable.
“Well, where you’re from doesn’t matter to me. You’re willing to serve me anyway, right?,” she asked. A look of confusion came to your face, the expression you’d see on the face of a lost child. Momo stifled a laugh and said, “Do you know who I am?”
Slowly you nodded, almost entirely certain it was the Momo you knew. Momo smiled back then, wordlessly, reached toward your shoe prison. The vessel was upended and immediately soared into the sky like a sweat-cloth zeppelin as the idol carried you inside of it and walked off somewhere you could no longer see. Her sweet voice reverberated through the walls of shoe sound waves bouncing like crystalline siren-songs: words in every direction. “If you know who I am, I think you shouldn’t mind serving me,” her statement was actually correct, “right, slave?”
Something about her words made your thoughts race, feelings swelling from an arising desire to obey what the gorgeous Musician said. You stammered again but could respond with conviction, “Yes!” A moment after the affirmation left your mouth the floor moved away from under you and the cylindrical chasm rotated like a drying machine shaking and tumbling you toward the ring of light that opened into a peachy and soft hand ready to embrace you.
Your ears popped as you parachutelessly skydived similarly to buffalo leaping from a bluff, yelping as you bounced on the meaty flesh of Momo’s palm, the firm flesh giving like a trampoline as you continued to slip-slide from her hand onto the much less gentle surface she deposited you on. Careening with a full barrel roll you face planted onto a wooden table and were left dumbfounded and nearly unconscious on your stupid frazzled ass.
Dancing will-o’-the-wisps parting from your clouded vision you at last sat up and saw Momo leaning over you, seated before the table and watching curiously. As you stood to your feet her smile returned; “You want to serve me?,” she leaned back confidently and her two legs swung over the table, the pale lengths of porcelain skin seeming to fly above you in slow motion until they parted and two tanned heels descended and meteorically slammed into the table. She crossed her feet at the ankle, leaving one pink sole towering over your form like a wrinkled monolith of female dominance. You felt your heart race as her toes slowly curled and uncurled toward you. “Then serve me.”  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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