Charles Pendelton
      © 2008 Marty Langdon
Chapter 32 (1973) pt 6

                                 1973


Tears were dropping out of my eyes and falling into ecstasy. As she made me stand,
I was shaking like a leaf on a tree with rapturous lust and was at the absolute pinnacle
of this incredible emotion. Every vein in my organ was now so pronounced and bulging,
that if Harmony would have poked it with a pin, I could have probably spray painted
my entire name on the wall with it.


Harmony rolled two fingers around the tip of my throbbing pink helmet, as she so often
referred to it, and it immediately began to drool. She then used the clear syrup which
dribbled out as a lubricant to bring me to fulfillment. I screamed as emotion gave way
to pleasure, and the magnificence of man overflowed into the palm of her awaiting
hand and fingertips. It was beyond anything my little mind could ever have conceived,
and there was so much fluid in that gorgeous hand of hers, I was stunned.

So relieved was I that the pain in my testicles
had finally diminished, I could have collapsed.

With the utmost dexterity, she used her sexual prowess
to emancipate my heart, until I became her prisoner.



Trapped within a loving amulet, never to be released I am yours forever. So eager
and willing was I to please in this hour of glory, that my very existence would hinge
upon her every word. Until my own imperfections began to consume my waking life.

*To me, she was God's finest creation*

“Now tell me,” she said in a seductive voice which seemed to repress any anger,
“who would you rather play with, me or Ursula?” Before I could answer, she was
halfway to the bathroom, where she washed the remains of my love down the sink.

In the mirror, I could literally see the actual handprint with not only the shape of
each finger, but the three lines in each finger as well. Almost like a photocopy of
her hand had been emblazoned on my glowing buttocks. I ran my fingers over the
stiff welts and thought of how far I progressed in just a few short years. Don't get
me wrong, I fancied the thought of my parents being this much in love. To feel true
love, but I knew it was all just a matter of time before the marriage disintegrated.

In a poignant daydream, I visualized the two of them going on a year long escapade
and awarding Harmony sole custody of me. A selfless act, that in my eyes that would
bring me untold joy. Not only because Harmony could adopt me, and we'd be left to
dine
upon ourselves, but also to populate the world with our unique offspring, and
try to give them the best education and the most love and affection two parents
could give. Or at least, that is what I chose to think in my developing mind.


Harmony then had the nerve to ask me where it hurt.

“Are you kidding me,” I responded in a semi rebellious tone.
“I think you broke my ass,” I said laughing and sniffling.

“Don't feel bad, look at what you did to my hand.”

“No, you did that to your hand. I just cried.”

“If you don't want it to happen again, try to
remember who wears the pants in the relationship.”

I nodded my head in agreement.

She then applied some soothing cream
to the affected area and it felt good.


“I'm so sorry about the last one,” she said with a devilish grin.



“No you're not,” I vocalized rather defensively.
Her smile grew. “I know,” she exclaimed, before
doing that adorable little thing she so often did.


Whenever Harmony was excited, she would hold the tip of her tongue in her teeth
as she giggled playfully. My heart skipped a beat whenever she did it. As I looked
at her swollen palm from where I stood behind her, it seemed to look exceedingly
purple. How delicately fragile and ladylike she stood observing herself in the mirror,
as if she were standing before a judge who was about to pronounce sentence.


                                         The Druids - Cool, calm and collected
                                  
                                                                               Pg 205
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Affably, I wrapped my arms around her voluptuous body while
my cheek rested firmly against the layers of her tousled hair.

“How do you just become her,” I asked with eyes closed?
So content in the love my heart was forming.

“You would be amazed what a woman will do for the man she loves.”

“Did you really mean what you said to me before?”

“About?”

“You know.”

“You need to help me out a bit,” said Harmony in such a way,
as if she knew full well the question at hand. Perhaps, she
just wanted to hear it from my own lips.

“Putting your thumb inside me, if I didn't do as you said?”

For some reason, I could not look at her when I said it.

“I'm sorry about that. I got lost in the moment.” Ever so casually
she knelt down beside me on the bathroom floor. “Forgive me?”

“Um hum.” (There was a long silence)
“But you still didn't answer my question.”
 
“Yes, I would have. And it would have sounded like I was killing you,
but I would have been extra gentle. Please tell me, and I need you
to be honest. Would you have held it against me?”

“No,” I said, still in a trance from the spanking. I then reached out my
hand and began to caress that bright red thumb of hers with mine.
“This one?” I asked curiously.

She nodded in a manner that might have implied a childlike
innocence, before saying, “yes” with a courageous smile.

I then wrapped my hand around it ever so graciously, all the while
looking into the ocean of her eyes, just happy to be a part of her world.

I couldn't resist seeing her smile.
I needed her to be happy, for me to be happy.


Harmony then escorted me out into the living room where I let go.

“How do you know about all that stuff,” I asked.

“I'm a reader. If I find something is arousing my curiosity, I will search for information
on the subject and delve into it. In California, those books aren't hard to find. I'm also
an advocate for woman's liberation and believe we deserve equal rights, better paying
jobs, and more respect than we've been getting over the years, don't you agree?”

“Yes.”

“You had better say yes, or you'll be feeling my hand again.”



We then embraced each other tight.


To live with hope can lead even cowards through minefields, but to lose one's salvation
is a far worse option than being heavily oppressed. Indeed, I would become fractured
beyond a shadow of a doubt and broken in every conceivable aspect concerning love.
Surely, I am overflowing with joy this hour, and not an unkind word do I have to say
for
even the devil himself. But time as we all know moves forward without ever seeing.
Without ever caring. Without ever feeling. Time as we know has already forsaken us.

Today was a wonderful day, and I will always give thanks for it.
Tomorrow, however, I shall tarry in the pit of despair with the ungodly,
for time is a master of deception. An illusion without any magic or disguise.

Only a few numbers were missing from the equation,
and no one ever sees that margin of error.

Where unspeakable evil presents itself in the form a cordial smile.

The seasons were turning,
and how was I to know the end would arrive before the beginning.



Written in haste, the part leading into this section was indecipherable, and rather
than prefabricate a section, I found I would simply have to continue with the pages
I had at my disposal. Please note: This manuscript is not a word for word account,
for I am not God. What I wrote in those years was a very brief and basic account
of our existence. I had to recreate Harmony from old memories and many tears.
The sexual content written herein remains because that is the way Harmony
would have wanted it. Words can never defile love, when it’s pure.

“Most men would not allow a woman to go near that area.”

“Not even you?”

(Laughs)

“Not even me. Most men have too much pride to allow themselves to
succumb to the glory of their own lustful nature. Aside from them not
being able to understand love, apart from their own selfish needs, they
make it seem like we're nothing without them. They treat us like dogs,
and they honestly think they're doing us a favor by having sex with them.


Like we need you? Most of them just want to throw you down on the floor
and have their way with you. No touching. No foreplay. Nothing. But what
they fail to recognize is that our needs, need the same attention given as
do theirs, but because they have strength over us, they feel they can control
us by bullying us and manipulating our emotions. Furthermore, they treat us
like objects. We are not objects. We are human beings. We may tend to be
more emotional, and we may get hurt easier, but we still require love, don't
we? Try explaining that to a grown man, they don't see it that way. As long
as we cook for them, clean up after them, wash their clothes, bear their
children and fuck them, that is all we are good for.

Just a piece of merchandise to be there at your beck and call,
like some pathetic, emotionless robot-whore.




If they understood their own sexuality, there would be no misconceptions
about love, and we would all get along just fine. Am I wrong here, Charlie?”

“You're not wrong.”

“Deep down inside, most men are cowards confined to their own will,
and since they cannot fathom a woman probing around inside of them
in such a way, they consider it to be a gay thing. It is okay for you to do
those things to us, but when it comes time for us to reciprocate, then it
becomes a gay thing? Grow up, for goodness sake.


                                                                               Pg 206
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Why is that, because you're no longer in control? A real man is not
intimidated by a woman. Especially, the woman he proclaims to love
with all his heart and soul. Sometimes, I wish I could shake some
sense into them. Underneath their cool exterior, they remain children.
Children who always seek to get their way at our expense.


Then for the icing on the cake, they don't want us to have an opinion.

We should keep our mouths shut and not speak
unless we are spoken to.”

“Does your family treat you this way?”

“Not my family. My culture, most men in general,
and everyone I've had the displeasure of dating.”


Harmony was clenching her fist, and I could see by the way she had half
of her lower lip curled into her mouth, that she was becoming enraged.
I wasn't quite sure what to say in her defense, but I did know I had to
change the topic of conversation, and I had to change it fast.


“How could anything with you, be gay?” I uttered nervously, not knowing
I was, in fact, laying the groundwork for the whole relationship’s foundation.

“How? Well, for starters, if I used implements or objects on you,
which are dreadful, and I would never do such a thing. That could
very well be considered a gay thing. But you know what I have,
and I know what you have. You're a boy and I'm a girl, correct?”

“Uh huh.”

“What's queer about a boy and a girl enjoying each other's body?”
 
“Nothing.”

“That's right, you enjoy being in my company, and I enjoy being
in yours. You love me, and I am equally indebted to you.

Very soon age is not going to be an issue, but until that time comes and
according to the laws of this country, you do not have an opinion either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if anything, ‘God forbid’ were to happen to your parents, or
if
anyone ever found out what we were doing together, they would tear us
apart like animals regardless of how we feel within ourselves about each
other. All laws are governed by rules and by right they should be, but there
are also exceptions to every rule, and I believe this is one of them.”


With a hand on my knee and a sad look in her eyes, she proceeds
to kiss me lightly upon the lips. “There is something I must tell you.”


By the way she spoke and by the way she looked at me,
I thought she was going to tell me she met someone.
How sorry she was for stringing me along all the while,
and how terribly she felt about doing it.

“Wait.” I blurted out, feeling a heartache in my
soul beyond compare. “You're leaving me?”

“No baby, I am not leaving you.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke.

“Five years ago, I fell in love with a young man from Oakland County. In the beginning,
he was so sweet. Always surprising me with gifts, or sneaking up from behind to cover
my eyes. Anyway, after a year he was recruited into a gang called, Los Trajes. They were
a dangerous gang with a violent past, who extorted money from honest hardworking
people. Not to mention all the drugs they did that turned my Alberto into a monster.

Another year later, I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me, and so I confronted
him
about it. Like a punk, he said to me, “cierra la boca, perra,” so I slapped his face.
Would
you like to know what he said to me, when I told him I was breaking off the
engagement?
He said I was nothing more than a filthy immigrant whore and demanded
to know
what was wrong with me. Then he thrust me up against the wall and raped me.

I was so dry, and the blood. . .
it was all over.

Harmony was now swinging her arms and crying uncontrollably. “Then he beats me for
bleeding on his Persian rug. Over and over again with his fists, he wouldn't stop. For a
while, I thought I was blind in my right eye. I couldn't see out of it for almost a month.


Do you have any-idea of the pain I felt at that moment? Do you? My-heart--died.




I held her face in my two small hands and said, “when I'm older I want
you to take me to him. I want you to watch as I smash his face open.”
                   
                                          Kings Verses - I stand nowhere



I brought my fist down so hard on the wooden table, I nearly broke it.
She took hold of my numb little hand and held her lips to it.

“And lose you?
      Never.”


                                                                               Pg 207
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There was no doubt about it, I thought, some men were just born to be monsters.



“I would never do anything to hurt you,” I said, sounding almost
desperate, for I was pleading to convey my point. “Even if you
were to break up with me, I would still honor and respect you.”

“I know you would, but I am not breaking up with you,” said Harmony
in a trembling voice before bringing a hand to rest on my cheek.

With the tips of my fingers, I parted my lover's hair, so her view of me was unobstructed.
As she looked into my eyes, I looked into hers to find the agony of that bitter moment.
A pain so great, it literally changed her very appearance. If eyes are a mirror of the soul,
then she was in Dante's Inferno right now, and her expression was so serious that when
I looked into them, I could almost see the striking.


“I am so sorry Harmony.” I said with such conviction my voice was shaking.

“Thank you, my sweet baby,” she replied, as tears the color of night streamed
down her face. As I listened attentively to her voice, every word spoken was
channeled through a nightmare she had been forced to endure. Harmony
then wipes her eyes, smearing the mascara on her face.


A few minutes later, she would drive a stake through my heart by
saying something I never expected to hear come out of her mouth.
 


“I will never stop loving you, Charlie. Even when you grow older and decide, you too wish
to knock me around, cause I no longer please you.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and
she burst into tears covering her face with both hands. Upon hearing this, I instinctively
moved back, the same as I would have had she thrown a glass of ice water in my face.

Harmony was now crying hysterically. To imagine myself hitting her like that went
far beyond the scope of any normal form of reasoning. It was incomprehensible.

                                        The Mixed Emotions - Search my heart




As the whole scene came into focus, I was so hurt that she could even say such a thing.
To assume that I could be capable of such an act. As I unwillingly watched this beast
pummel my girlfriend, I felt myself being pulled apart by emotion. For anyone to hurt
her like that was simply unthinkable. Before long, I began to lose control as this heartfelt
sadness I had not known before, slowly overtook my senses.


Not knowing what else to do, I threw myself at Harmony and
held her tightly in my arms as tears streamed down my chin.

“No one is ever gonna hurt you again,” I cried out in anguish.
“I promise you,
Harmony.” As I struggled to catch my breath, I bellowed,
“I'm gonna
kill him.” The rest of this scene, my mind seems to have blotted out.
I can
remember feeling her hand on the back of my head, but that is all.

Everything else after this is a blank spot. 

When the anger subsided, I recall telling Harmony about an incident that happened last
year. A rather small, insignificant occurrence that would end up meaning the world to her.

As the story goes, “I can vividly remember my dad yelling at my mother over something
pertaining to money, and my mother was becoming more and more unsettled. Then from
out of nowhere, she sprung up from her seat and slapped my father hard across the face.”



                      “What did your father do?”
 
“He slid his chair back, got up and then left the house.
He came back about five hours later, but he never hit her.
                     Just like I will never hit you.”




“Why can't you just be eighteen, so I can marry you?”

“If I was eighteen, you would never have given me the chance to prove myself to you.”

She thought about my words and said, “do you realize you are the only person who has
ever truly adored me? Thank you. I never thought I could be loved like this by anyone.
My whole life, I have always felt rather plain. So ordinary in comparison to American girls,
but you have shown me otherwise.” Her misty eyes were once again becoming watery, and
so Harmony ran her hand across her right cheek where the tips of her fingers became wet.
“The way you make me feel, and the way you treat me. Even though you are still young
and learning, you have given me so much, I could never repay you for it.”


*You already have my love. You already have*



                                Maywood - If you and I

                                                                               Pg 208
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There is a place where the vultures gather.
Not ordinary birds of prey, but something indescribable.

They wait for that nectarous river to run dry before swooping up
from Abaddon, and out of your most hallowed thoughts to tear your
eyes from their sockets. Since you will find you have no energy to stop them,
they allow themselves the indecency to eat into your brain till the festal is over.
Then, for the rest of your meaningless existence, there is no other way home
but to grope through that channel of broken glass on all fours. Ever suffering.
Ever weeping at the thought of being forsaken by all you hold dear.
When the angels can no longer protect you, you will fall from grace.
You will be exiled to an abhorrent plain on earth, where you will be forever
banished, until the mere concept of God becomes nothing more
than a contemporary English version of a fable. The clock is
moving forward at an alarming pace. . . So loud it begins
to sound like a bomb. And how could we have known
the enemy of time would be our abductor?




“I'll do anything you want,” I said, “even that, because you're my world. I want you to feel
the same way I feel when you are doing those things to me, as when I'm doing them to you.
I just want you to be happy all the time, like the happiness I feel when I’m alone with you.”

As she tried to smile through the tears, she held me close and spoke in the voice of a whisper.

“Oh my love, that is all I wanted to hear.”

Without exception, I offered my body unto her, the same as I would
have offered her my neck, had I found out she were a vampyre. 




During this time we spent together Harmony would often ask me if I was ready to
'open up to her' and moved her fingers as though she were playing an invisible piano.

“You know I can't say no to you.” I told her she didn't have to ask
anymore and to just do it, but she insisted it was all part of the game.

“I need to feel that intense desire. That wanting. That need from you that you crave
me so, and wish more than anything else for me to be pleasured and happy. If I ever
get the feeling you are becoming uncomfortable with it in any way, or if it ever begins
to feel like a task, then I want you to tell me and I will stop doing it.”


Over a period of time my lover was granted supreme access into a land which
encompassed that of my own loving heart, and with each and every finger,
Harmony would indeed caress my very soul. The gentle massage performed
deep inside in a fluid motion would only enhance our love for each other.


My exotic angel, you have given your love unto me,
and I
have given you mine. Together we shall create a new world.


“For me this is the highest honor a man can bestow upon a woman,” said Harmony
proudly, before telling me to relax. She then told me she had never done ‘this sort of
thing’ before. “I'm not sure how we should go about it,” she said, half confused and
half bubbling over with excitement. Carefully, I removed my clothes, where she made
me lie outstretched on the couch with my neck supported by the cushy armrest.

Intimately, she rolled some saliva around my sensitive area with her index finger.

Like an exquisite painting, this scene would often be reproduced,
yet somehow without all the allure and mystique which had grown from knowing.


                                                                               Pg 209
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From the position I was lying in, I could see the implicit markings of that beautiful palm. So
feminine and sensuous was this beautiful bright red hand that had just slapped the living hell
out of me. On more than one occasion, I would use that precise image to keep myself in line.

I reveled in the knowledge that she was all mine and allowed her to take pleasure in my body
with a moist and glistening finger. With her palm up, she curled back the others and gently
began to insert her forefinger, stopping only after the tip had passed the great divide.

So eagerly she prepared to fillet me, with an expression
that seemed to be waiting for my response.

“Are you okay? Should I stop?”

“No, I just need to hold your other hand.”


 She then smiled lustfully and extended it for me. As I held her left hand and gazed at those
meticulously manicured fingers, I realized at that very moment what an honor it was to partake
in the glory of her being. To watch her face as she braved this new world. To see her conquer
it with eyes closed and moaning. To watch her tongue slide over her lips as we interconnected
to become one mechanism. That supreme esoteric joining of two people in love, who have
woven themselves into the very fabric of life’s laurel to become love’s honorer.


An occasion of joy, where the Empress and king are in fact, modern day peasants who
play their part so well, they have earned their status in the real world. During this act,
Harmony showered me with love and affection that was so becoming of her.

As I lay enrapt in her bliss, I rolled my tongue
around the base of her hand, near the wrist.




                 “May I,” she asked, as if out of breath?


                I looked at her with a very perplexed face,

                         and she repeated the question. 

                                May I go further?


“Yes,” I said, full of confidence and longing, but not really sure what all the hype was about.
As Harmony continued to push her finger further down in an ever-gentle motion, I felt my
body's natural function begin to reverse itself. She then formed a slow and steady rhythm
of sliding it in and out, while pleasuring herself at the same time. Strange as it seemed there
was only a mild pinching, or should I say, a rather mild stinging sensation, before pleasure
overtook me. As her warm, inviting finger immersed itself in my helpless body, I held onto
her other hand while gazing at those delicate, overly sensuous fingers.


I couldn't help but watch as she gratified her own sexual desires, while oohing and
ahhing and biting oh so tenderly on her lower lip. As she penetrated the boy, the man
came alive and that impressed her. While she massaged the soft flesh of my sarcoline
walls, I too closed my eyes and began licking the entire portion of that delectable palm,
surrendering only as I made my way up the length of four brunneous fingers, which I
held together and made like the whole hand was a Good Humor bar.


*Truly our love had no end*

                                                        Peter Frampton - I'm in you




The only two things I was thinking was is she really
doing this to me? (((and))) My God, I love her so much.


My senses were reeling as my tongue swathed wildly.
So intimate were we now, conjoined in love. So revealing.


Make no mistake, eloquently and with fervor will my love release itself in a loud sonorous
discharge. The time is at hand for the moment is near, and I’ve all to do to keep myself from
exploding. I can feel you ravishing my heart, causing my body to quiver. Nibble on my flesh
in that adoring way and fill my mouth with your saliva, so that I may be brought to fulfillment
in a land of epicurean delights. I looked at her face. Her raven hair, and that image carried
me away in its splendor. Just the way she spoke while a part of her was inside me was
unlike any language I had ever heard before. So dignified was it that I found myself
perpetuated above mortal man, as if I had somehow graced heaven.


“How noble are you, my lord,” I heard her say in a subdued voice. “To offer yourself
so humbly to I, who have nothing. I find you to be rare. So rare a breed. To covet and
scorn if I may. To thrash in rapture, I say not. But to love. I do my lord, I do.”


                                                                               Pg 210
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She went on and on in a Shakespearean tongue, and it made me feel as though I were an
emperor in my own kingdom. I had everything a boy could ever want and so much more.
Later when she stopped speaking, Harmony took me into her loving mouth and brought
me to new heights. There she reversed her hand to tantalize my prostate gland until I
released my passion. As I erupted like a mini volcano, it was there in that wonderful
place where she drank from the fountain of my concupiscent loins.

Upon licking her lips, Harmony said only one word. . . “Tangy.”

She then looked up at me with an appearance so striking, my heart swelled.
Those Manila eyes. Those full Indian lips. That South American allure she wore
around her like Miss World. Miss Universe. All that is a part of me is yours my
love, for you have become the owner of my heart. The writer of my destiny.

Without you, I shudder at the thought.

In circles of men and women alike, I was sure to be laughed at, or ridiculed, or
scorned, but to this angel who found a place in her heart for me, I was beyond
reproach. Today, no matter where I go or who I’m with, I will always feel as though
a part of me is alone. When the emptiness inside your heart becomes greater than
your own will to survive, it will consume your soul until everyone around you is a
stranger. And it’s not that you don’t love them anymore. It’s just that it hurts so
much to see that beautiful shoreline, where you and I once stood.

I was consumed by her passion. Enthralled in the very aspect of just being
beside her
as we enjoyed life together, let alone the magic of becoming one
with her in such a way.


“On the eve of this very night, I found my soul mate.”

I turned my head to her on that couch and asked her what a soulmate was.
 
“Would you die for me if you had to?” she asked, in a gentle tone.

“I would die for you if I didn’t have to,” I verbalized quite honestly.

“Then I am truly your soul mate,” she exclaimed most happily.
“That is the only way to know if your partner is undoubtedly
your soul mate. And I would gladly die for you as well.”





*Do not fear my love, for I will be older soon*


An hour later, I was prepared to use my tongue again, and this time I was
reeling with desire. With her hands clasped onto my head, I began doing
that thing she loved so much. Licking in and around her gentle area like I
was licking an ultra-thin sheet of candy, while trying not to lick through it.

This is the way Harmony told me a while back that I should do it.


I felt like a songbird that had just been released from its gilded cage, and
would never have to sing for anyone again. Songbirds only form melodies
because they are looking for their mate. Once they find their companion,
they are content with each other and their warbling intonations will cease.





Slowly, I inserted two fingers into my lover’s warm body, before continuing to entice her
with my tongue. Caressing her sweet spot was such an ambrosial treat for me, and she
had become so delicate. So sensitive now was my lover, using her sharp nails to claw at
my scalp, and her head thrown back in absolute ecstasy. With extreme benevolence and
quiet dedication, I tasted the sticky petals from the sacred flower of life until it became my
own breath. Removing my fingers, I parted the sweet folds of her love. Tantalizing her flesh
with my tongue, I darted in and around her glistening area without any harsh penetration.


Soon she would erupt and quake, and within that sensuous expanse, I tasted what can only be
described as the purest of well water. A feminine secretion which seeped from her walls of flesh,
followed the order of gravity down the inner portion of her thigh to mildly grace the intricately
woven mesh of the fine upholstery. Breathing through my mouth helped me stay the course.

I heard my sweetheart gasping for air and turned my
face toward her, only to see her exhaling rapidly.

“You are sincerely a gift from heaven,” said Harmony in a very winded tone.
“You will have to give me a few minutes.” After a period of time had passed,
Harmony uttered, “Now you can do with me as you wish,” and I went wild.

Thrusting my tongue in deep as if wanting to come out the other side of her like an eager
python. I tasted the walls of her love, like I was licking around the inside of a honeypot
while trying desperately to get every last drop of her wonderful essence. There in the
opening of a dark chasm, I breathed in deeply that musky and engaging aroma.


                                                                               Pg 211
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That individualistic scent which separated her from all other females, until she was
but a part of me. In a short while from now, when my lover has once again climaxed,
I will be ready to make love to her. Afterwards, we settled down on the bed, basking in
the afterglow of loves peaceful resolve. Looking up at the ceiling while holding hands

and sighing blissfully. Thoroughly content in the emotional intimacy we shared together.

As I became drowsy, my eyes closed.
I then drifted apart from her in sleep.


The following day, Harmony would use her thumb to gently make love to me, and I would
find myself telling her it was okay. “I belong to you baby, of course it’s okay.” Indeed, I
savored that experience, because it was something I allowed Harmony to indulge in.


To deny her this, after all she had given me
would most certainly be a travesty of justice.
 



My angel you shall always be
This world, my heart I give to thee
A song that plays forevermore
of love for whom I do adore


Sunday morning upon waking, we watched as the snow continued to fall. Seeing
my lover stretch as her eyes first opened was the most beautiful part of the day.



Harmony said she had returned from a midnight journey that led her to the South of
France where she worked as a prospector. Mining for metal ore and other valuable
commodities with a crew of many. Everyone was rich, and everyone was happy.

I, however, was nowhere in the equation.

As she cracked open the window, an icy breeze blew in. The winter sky was the purest of
white and the air had become so crisp. I went out to shovel and found that a six foot drift had
curled up alongside the main walkway. Apart from this, everything seemed to be brushed
clean from the wind. Since it was extremely cold, it didn’t take very long before I could
no longer feel my fingers. I went back inside where Harmony removed my mittens.


“You’re freezing,” she said, and began rubbing my hands. A few minutes later, we took
a steaming hot shower, before making love on the couch. Harmony then made the most
sumptuous chocolate covered Belgian waffles. I ate so much, I could hardly breathe.

I then rested on the couch while she washed dishes and cleaned up.


She was heaven in the form of a woman.
She was everything perfect in the world.
She was my life, my love, and my best friend. 


But this was not to be, for something awful was coming.

On the side doorstep under the old wooden awning were two gifts
that had been left by white socks. A community cat who Harmony threw
occasional scraps to. Never had I seen anything like this before.




As we observed the mice with their heads chewed off,
neither of us wished to touch them.

“I don’t like the looks of that,” I said, sounding most apprehensive.

“Don’t worry, they’re only gifts for all the scraps of food and milk
I’ve given him over the past few years. It’s just something cats do.
They thank you.”

“Did he have to thank me too?”

(Harmony smiles)

“He knows you are my lover, silly.
Cats aren’t stupid.”


Little could I have known the fate we would both suffer, for this was more
than just an omen. It was a premonition of disaster. What was coming for
us could not be stopped, and it was far too late for any kind of reckoning.




The best thing that could have possibly happened at that very moment
as we walked inside the house and closed the frail wooden door,
would have been the overwhelming smell of natural gas. . .



                                                       And a spark.
                                          



                                                                               Pg 212
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PG 205) Cymbaline by Chris Down - http://tinyurl.com/m9fsrcf

PG 205) Mischievous
by David Mulnix - http://tinyurl.com/k8xm3cv

PG 206) The silent piano
by
Nguyen Dinh Dang - http://tinyurl.com/kgq5g9o

PG 206) Fatima in front of her door
by Adam Styka - http://tinyurl.com/k7cx7rn

PG 207) Souvenir of sadness
by Glenn Barr - http://glbarr.com/gallery

PG 207)
Incarnation of Vishnu by Narasimha Avatar - http://tinyurl.com/yuqmgn

PG 208) Domestic turmoil in pumpkin
by Todd Schorr - http://www.toddschorr.com/

PG 208) Violence
by Guéganne Doucet - http://tinyurl.com/klnwzht

PG 208) Pop art
of Woman slapping man

PG 208) This car needs washing
by Amos Sewell - http://tinyurl.com/nrwj9rn

PG 209) Dead mans hand
by Andrew Dobell - http://tinyurl.com/l22nvwh

PG 209) Vampi's graveyard 
by Joe Jusko -
http://tinyurl.com/m62zo4k

PG 210) Falls of love by Fattah Hallah Abdel - 
http://tinyurl.com/kg5lq44

PG 210) Striving for an equilibrium 
by Justin Michael Jenkins - http://www.imaginativepencil.com/

PG 211) Reshma and Shera
- Eternal Lovers From Rajasthan - http://tinyurl.com/n6mv78v

PG 211) Cage by Raceanu Mihai Adrian
- http://tinyurl.com/q94d7jz

PG 212) From dream to dream we have awake by Raceanu Mihai Adrian
- http://tinyurl.com/q94d7jz

PG 212) Ethel the gourmet by Charles Wysocki
- http://tinyurl.com/mry95wx

PG 212) Search to Fade by Xetobyte -
http://tinyurl.com/levdoqv

PG 212) Summon the Reaper
by Anne Stokes - http://www.annestokes.com/#/