They cuddled in their normal formation of ‘big spoon, little spoon’ as he jokingly called it. Him, in a fetal position, toned thighs gathered in unison near his stomach… With enough space left for her to sandwich her hands into his obliques. She loved those obliques. She, who stood a whole head and shoulders worth of height under him, snuggled toward his spine. A lavender and sea salt candle infused the room with a floral, musky smell. After a weekend of celebrating their wedding anniversary and two days until the bore of employment returned, they craved rest. Continue reading “FICTION: ‘Slur.’”
I then woke up in a pleasant hazy state, partially confused as I thought I had woken up and called in sick. I even had visualized walking outside, seeing a gray sky and retreating to my bed. I guess I subconsciously wanted this lasting feeling to be upheld as long as possible. I sat on the transfer bus to the penitentiary. Strong, stirring thoughts of the night before. Jonah’s kiss lingered in my psyche. Lingered long, strong and hard. I hadn’t wanted to sell myself a pipe dream, especially not after my last relationship and the after-effects, but when it came to the brief instances I had shared with Jonah, what a piece of pipe to dream over. I was glad I decided to take up his offer for a date. It took my mind off the Warden, the looming verdict of the planted contraband in my office, my inmate case files. He took my mind off the prison and from the unfortunate and untimely outcome of the racially profiled, looming death penalty Dericks’ case.