Fiction

Dark Future

Posted on in Fiction · Short Stories
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Outside the house of my very articulate acquaintance, it could be said I must be an idiot. But until the day was done I must see how much money I can seize from his coffers. Striding up the steps, I went into the humble abode of his crest white painted house.

His enlightening voice sent shivers and yet I did not fear them. House looked normal by my standards, brown coloured sofa, a red couch laden with clothes, furniture all made of dark wood.

A normal home lived in by a normal man, entered now an unknown woman who will remain as such.

Sitting on the sofa, he asked if I would like some vodka. Water was fine, getting drunk on the job is a dumb thing to do anyway. Even the house was pearly white, except the kitchen, painted light brown.

Playing the victim was not a role I liked but it was a chance. Chances you do not waste, you never get them again. Something we all have to learn the hard way.

Through the corner of my eyes, I saw a mosquito pass my head.
Such a thing, am I led to believe that these things are predators, passing infections on the unfortunate.

Cringing at the thought, if there is one, there must be more. Getting out of the white plaza is my next goal.

We engaged in conversation. Nothing was off limits at this stage. My eyes kept tabs on the time. My mind on what needed to be said and asked.

He kept going on, I danced around sexual innuendos with tact. He made his suggestions more and more potent.

Surrounded by the walls of his castle, I was not scared only anxious. Watching his body, from the eyes, his face and hands, It seemed so eloquent when a person lies. The way they move, well it takes one to know one no?

His milky eyes drenched over my body, the splash was a vivid blast of colour. Considering the situation and my resolve to pull off the impossible, I had to accept that I was not sure it would work.

With a body like mine, nothing is impossible really, I got in this house did I not?

It is funny when people talk about respect and love, well at least that’s where the conversation was going. Talking the blatant truth of my last relationships would be character suicide, so I lied a bit. He soaked it in without hesitation.

Nobody respects someone with nothing. You must have something to get people’s attention. I was born with my most valuable asset and I never misused it.

Eyes of his explored my entire body. I was not dressed overly sexual, a simple tight black dress, cut low, its dress front was curved high on the chest.

Making the effort I thought the time was right, driving the conversation towards the request last made in texts.

Would he do as I asked of him, to facilitate charity?

He danced on it, but I was a better dancer the samba was to my beat.

Naturally I got nothing really except talks of grandeur and what could be. But I made it clear where my trouble was and where my kindness ends.

What could be in his hand, I received it with diligence. Guarded inside my purse, no innocence, I was elated. I know why I came here, I know why. After this night, the sweat and toil will be worth it.

When I go back the good clothes and refined beauty will not figure much into the equation.

Dinner was great, the feeling of his home was not innate but a warmth against the cold winds of my life. The plus of each asset whether liquid or not made me warm.

Visit him again I will.

No judgment here just lodgment of my future.


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