He Chose Her [ Short Story]
He looked over at her, from across his side of their double bed. The gap between them felt vast, as if they were worlds from each other, she in one place and he in another.
The passion that had kept them close for so many years was now slowly fading, like the transition of summer’s breeze to the chill of autumn. She used to look at him with desire, with a gaze full of love, as if all she needed in the world was to be held in his arms for an eternity. Now though it seemed that when she looked at him it had a slight indifference to it, like his presence was nice but no longer really required.
He watched as she rolled in her sleep, seemingly turning even further from him, her oversized T-shirt covered a frame that used to be tight and athletic, but the effects of baring him two wonderful children had loosened tight muscles into little wobbles of flesh. Still beautiful to him, but the change from see-through lacy bra and thong sets to oversized T-shirts and granny pants had only helped accelerate the dying passion between them.
Deep down he knew he still loved her but knew he also needed passion, needed a spark to make sense of an existence that now felt dull and repetitive.
He yearned for something fresh and new that would cause his heart to beat crazy with anticipation, for his blood to flow hot with electric pulses of adrenalin. He turned onto his back, a smile slowly creeping over his face as his thoughts crossed to Melanie, a stripper with unrivalled beauty that he'd recently had the pleasure of being introduced to. An introduction facilitated through his work friend Nigel taking him on a tour of Hackney's seedier nightlife.
Even now he could picture her. Tall, as if emitting her own golden glow onto the world below over mere mortals like himself. While her curves, a temple to her centre; brought an occult following of men and women who came together for the sole purpose of worshipping at her doors. He'd quickly subscribed to her religion, giving weekly donations in hopes of spreading her true religion.
For him, being in her presence was bliss. Her cool ass aura mixed with a sultry voice confident in her being of an extroverted queen, brought him from out the shell, of his introverted world.
He wanted to be with her. Right now. If even just for seconds, as brief moments in her presence would help settle the troubles of his world, help bring sense to a reality warped by man's idealism that the right way of doing things is by following societies pre-set rules.
Not Melanie though, she was a rebel to man-made commandments, simply preferring an existence that felt right for her.
Reaching from under his pillow, he brought out his Samsung, opening the system to Whatsapp as he looked than found the picture of Melanie. Her eyes covered by dark Gucci shades, her hair set as fine red curls against the picturesque beauty of her oval face. A low cut glimpse of her ample breasts reminding him of the temptations of the flesh, especially when temptation worked the length of a pole with such athletic poise.
He licked the dryness of his lips, his keypad of communication was at the ready. He could see she'd been online just 5 minutes ago. It was late, 12:17 am to be precise, but he wanted to talk to her, if even just briefly. She always told him that he should live YOLO. He decided to agree.
‘Hey Melanie, how you doing? You just came to mind so thought I'd send you a text.’ He waited in quiet anticipation, with his heart beating a little faster with schoolboy excitement. He watched as she came online. Observing how the two grey ticks turned blue. And how her greeting of ‘hey babe’ lit the screen of his silenced phone.
‘I been good, so what has you up at this late hour Mr professional?’ she added a naughty wink. ‘Wanna cum see me?’ She added a devilish grin emoji. His groin gave a salute to her command. Shyness dematerialised as the effects of her sunk deeper into his psyche and his synapses of connections for her grew even stronger. As if they were kindred spirits and she being the only person in the whole world qualified enough to understand the troubles of his existence. She was like a personal therapist for him, the only difference to match her exuberant hourly rate she wore lacy nightwear that allowed him to take a long glimpse into the realm behind her temple doors. He answered before his brain could fully think.
‘I'd love to see you.’ Pause. ‘Right now.’
Her reply was almost instant, ‘Cool, I'm at the same club, my shift is finishing soon though so you'll have to be quick.’ She added another naughty wink.
He looked to the deep slumbering body of his partner then remembered the thickness of Melanie's long thighs.
He answered ‘I'll be there quicker than you can count 1.2.3…’
“123” she replied with a grin.
He laughed ‘I'm on my way.’
He crept from his bed, the male personification of a lurking night prowler, similar to what's found during the night hours of Amsterdam's red light district.
He entered into the coolness of the night air, closing the door to his mundane existence and stepping into a world led by fantasy. A living lesson to the sins of Eve. He noticed a fox with its ever watchful eyes observing him, locking eyes with it, he saluted, from one night prowler to another. The fox trotted at pace, while he sped off in a cloud of smoke. Both rushing, as they searched for easy pickings, before the sun's rising brought to light the actions from their alternative universe... To read the full story please click the link below
http://www.davidanglin.co.uk/my-thoughts/daily-creative-writing-practice-he-chose-her-short-story