Tuesday, November 20, 2007

frozen delight

she will never look at cherry ice cream bars the same way again.

it was one of those nights again. the kind that puts her to bed early due to exhaustion at work. the kind that wakes her up at midnight. the kind that makes her grope the other side of her bed, looking for something. looking for someone. upon confirming the void on the other side, she sits up and steps into the waking world.

she got out of bed and went to her kitchen to get a glass of cold water. semiconsciously she opens the freezer. and there, as if mocking her, was the unfinished package of ice cream.

a muffled laugh escaped her throat. she picked up the aluminum package and patted her face with it. the coolness of it made her shiver. she closed her eyes summoning the
the memories of a night not too long ago.


she remembered trying to fight off sleep that night. she had barely slept the night before. she wanted to stay awake while he was with her, but she was slowly losing the battle. she closed her eyes and fell into unsolicited sleep.


something stirred her from her light slumber. she knew it was him, but she did not open her eyes. she sighed and buried her head in her pillows. she hid her smile underneath the tangle of her her black hair. she can feel his breath on slope of her neck, her weakest spot.

she heard him chuckle.

and then she felt it.

it was an icy electric shock against her skin. instinctively, she shuddered and turned to face him, but she heard a hushing sound from him. his breath warm on her ear.

she closed her eyes as he traced indistinguishable shapes on her shoulder. a slow smile crept to her mouth. she wanted to face him, to read his eyes, but before she could turn, his lips, his tongue retraced the trail of ice cream he left on her skin.


she will never look at cherry ice cream bars the same way again.





*crimson eve
11/25/07 7:58pm
bergenfield,nj



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a lock of hair, bleach, roasted coconut. i've been meaning to use some of things that have awakened my senses to write a short story. who would have thought that an ice cream bar would trigger such an idea? but c.e. is reduced to her prudish self and she can not continue with the details. might as well save them for the secret chamber of memories. sigh.

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