TIMPUTER

    "Timputer, I need you to run a full brain cavity search."

    "I've got this….you know just do your thing and find the problem."

He was in his lair.

On show at his work station was a red Dell notebook computer. Further to his left was another, a Toshiba laptop, expertly projecting the voice simulation of a computer being he had generated. It was the best innovation executed in a while, a computer generated image fed with human-like tendencies, making it partly a human oriented processor.

The gadget blinked insistently as if to digest the command that had been set forth. Meanwhile, the three dimension human simulation seemed calm, and then it burst into life.

"Self diagnosis procedures initiated."

"Diagnostic analysis encoding."

"Result analysis decoded ninety nine point nine percent accurate and counting."

Then its screen went blank.

Next to the computer lay a book, Pany's Chronicles, with numerous words scribbled carelessly in it.

Random processed results then instantaneously re-appeared on the computer screen again.

"What's your evaluation Timputer? And speak in English please."

"Perfectly normal tendencies but an anomaly in your thoughts detected."

"Feel free to expound on that genius."

Tim commanded as he grabbed an alcoholic beverage on lie at a piece of wood implied for furniture.

"Tim, I can sum up the diagnosis in two words."

"SERIOUS CRUSH."

The simulation projected making him spill his drink on that faded blue t-shirt that he had on.

"What do you mean a crush? Re-run brain activity diagnostics…. now."

"I already did that and triple checked of course, well, the results are all the same."

"Tim's got a girlfriend, Tim's got a girlfriend."

"Shut up before I feed you with a cat's IQ you mindful computer."

Consciously, he knew that the gadget had to be accurate in its prognosis. Lately, he was having one of those things, fantasies, or so he thought which in time and again just fizzles out, but not this one. This precise one had been lingering within him for a while now. And subtly with prove from this processor, it had to be undeniably true, uncharacteristic of his timid self in these preceding months.

He had long assumed immunity over such emotions; guess being human has its fair share of mystery an act he was experiencing currently.

"Tim and I have proof too. Hear log 673 and judge for yourself."

And the audio stream of the log started play.

 

THE INVASION

Taking over

Slowly you are taking over my mind

Making me believe that you are but a lovely mirage

But are you one really?

Because your virtual presence hovers all around me

 

Then suddenly I realize am not sleeping adequately

I try to sleep but I lay awake long enough to fight

To fight so hard not to dream let alone think of you

Only that am tragically disadvantaged

Since I can't determine what day and dreams to have

 

"Shut up Timputer, I know the contents of that log."

Channeling the drink to his mouth for another gulp, he let the drink bite into his taste buds for a moment too long, and then swallowed it in an instant.

"So, for how long and how did you know?"

"Since…since… you started acting sentimental, since you reverted to writing poems something you had long strayed from."

The exposé was fulfilling than the lurid attempt at concealing what indeed was plaguing his artistic mind. He felt relieved that at least someone knew, only in reality that someone was a mere extension of his creative imagination.

"Tim I think it's time you told her about it, or are you going to drink it off again."

"No, am not getting myself drunk over it again."

Tim genuinely returned.

"You know what Timputer, I have this very crazy and unintelligent idea."

"But it has serious consequential repercussions."

He deliberated as he drowned the last volume of the drink in a mouthful.

    
 

 

 

 

TIM AND JULIET

From an all too familiar motion to an all too familiar destination, the glass was lifted off the furniture to the mouth ready to take a gulp out of it. But judging by the straight face exhibited, it seemed the citrus flavored drink had failed in its quest to produce a tingly effect.

"That was the crappiest thing I ever did in my sensual life."

"I mean who does such a thing in his sane state of mind?"

He said as he put the glass back on the piece of furniture implied to be the table. It seemed ridiculously absurd why I sat opposite to this fellow blatantly staring and listening to his ranting. But here I was nonetheless, and striking a conversation too with this recluse of a man, Tim.

Within us, he was relegated to the low-life that he already was. And though being a loner, today he seemed to be disputing this perception and any other. I just couldn't tell it apart if it was a deliberate attempt or really if he was just good at talking, but for whatever reason, that is what he was actually doing.

"I knew you would never have believed me if I didn't try to prove our acquaintance."

And indeed who would have believed that this low life of a man knew that woman driving the sky blue Range Rover Sports 2010 edition? Maybe in another lifetime, but I definitely couldn't be grouped into this category.

But he had defied this as he casually walked onto the woman only to be met by a very hearty embrace. The hug befitted that of only two people who had prior acquaintance and really missed each other, and it was exhilaratingly sensual.

So here we were staring at this clear contrast of a gorgeous woman elegantly dressed, and a man whose original colour of the clothes he was wearing being beyond comprehension, and to cap it, they were locked up in an almost never ending embrace.

"Well, I hope that you believe me now."

He proclaimed as he poured the remaining volume of the drink into his mouth and slammed the glass onto the piece of the furniture. I only cast him a stare cautiously.

"You know, I never have anyone for my audience, but since you are an exception now, I might as well tell you the whole story."

How delighting, just not what I need or intended to subscribe to. And I wasn't in any way going to condone it, no way.

"Great, that is just delighting. I actually need to hear how the whole story transpired."

But again on second thought, I just couldn't dismiss the man that easily, that is, after raising his hopes so high up. In a way, I had to brace for what would translate to a boring affair, but someone had to do it.

"It was severe pain than emotion I had ever seen in anyone's eyes before."

"She didn't even seem to cry but tears still streamed down her cheeks nonetheless."

He then wiped the liquid like substance starting to form at the extreme ends of his eyes with his palms. I didn't even think to utter a single word, or heave a sigh under my contemplating breath. I just looked on silently as he continued to deliberate.

"You mean this is it, ha?"

"After what we've been through….. together Tim?"

He only continued to stack his belongings in a disarrayed pile into the overnight bag. As far as he was concern, he had his mind already made up and he wasn't looking back for whatever reason, whatever. That is why he didn't even think to answer the question she was posting to him.

And he was done. He zipped the bag shut and yanked it to his shoulder. In an instant Juliet was at his side shoving him into the wall.

"So this is how it's going to be Tim?"

"Go, just go you ungrateful imbecile."

"Never, and I mean never step foot anywhere near me again, you hear?"

He didn't answer, and neither could he maintain eye contact. He just stood there while Juliet sank onto the bed and hid her face under her palms. Seizing the moment, Tim dejectedly walked out of the door and disappeared under the guise of the midnight darkness.

"And you know what Sam?"

"I never looked back or called, and neither did she.

With the magnitude of the sentiment sinking in, I wondered if this freak was really for real. Quite on the contrary, he looked tremendously disorientated as he ran his fingers over his uncombed hair.

"I thought to do so countless times, but I never got round to actually doing it. But I wish I did Sam, I really do."

Tim continued after a slit second pause.

"Well, you know what hurts the most in this whole affair?"

"It's that she stood by me for three years, three years man.

To him Juliet seemed like the average phenomenal creature he had set eyes on in a while. Though she was a fun loving girl, she carried with her this strange aura of responsibility. It's no wonder Tim felt obligated to fall in love with her unconditionally, since she was a marrying material a typical perception in this stage of life.

I have never established the logistics concerning this, but Tim too it seemed subscribed to this line of thought. And oddly as illustrated in his life, this male being had serious monetary implications.

"It took me five years after completion of my university education to be able to raise the outstanding balances and graduate."

"You mean to tell that you have a degree in something."

"In Mass Communication to be precise."

He still didn't cease to amaze. How could he have just sat on such an accomplishment in life?"

"And right about this time is when I realized that Juliet really had a thing for me."

"Though she had been there for several years before, I just couldn't understand why I never noticed this while she continued to grace my life."

Analytically, maybe this dude really had a mental disease, taken from the fact that Juliet was fortunate enough to gain meaningful employment before he did. Though she didn't do much, in the least her mere presence was evidence of her unrivalled love for him.

"I was fortunate enough to get a job immediately after my graduation."

"And during this period she started encountering problems of her own, and we decided to move in together."

The slight flicker of emotion writing through his face shouted that indeed, he felt remorseful in the course of telling his story. I on the other hand didn't feel the need to waiver the hurt that had riddled his contemplating face, I simply stayed put. Wasn't he who had suggested that he wanted to tell me how his story unfolded?

"Then she was laid off from work about five months after we moved in together."

"Oh pardon my courtesy Sam, but do you want a refill?"

"No am actually fine, but kind of engrossed in your story in you don't mind continuing?"

A sense of tension was starting to build up in this room, and I knew that I wasn't in anyway responsible for it. He was starting to show frustration, and I was in the other hand trying to scold pity for this poor man but silently.

"Yeah, we stayed for another two years in this arrangement before she became expectant with my child."

The free flow of tears down his cheeks couldn't be kept at bay as they descended trickle after trickle. It seemed he was genuinely hurting, but to what degree was an elusive phenomenon that I couldn't quite explore or substantiate.

"I guess that is when all hell broke loose."

"I simply don't know how I did it, but I became active in another affair and then barged out of this relationship."

"Were you insane man?"

"And what of the child, did you just forget about it too?"

"She told me earlier that she named our son Mike and he is doing pretty well."

Running his hands over his uncombed hair for the umpteenth time, he lightly closed his eyes then opened them rapidly to gaze at the ceiling.

"My God, what did I do?"

He asked as he gripped into his shirt almost tearing it into pieces.

"And this woman we were involved with left me soon after our positions in the company were declared redundant."

He confessed at last. I gazed at this lunatic wanting to hit the crap out of his sane mind. I mean, who actually does such a thing to someone who has stood by you for all those years, and to leave when she is expecting your child?

"I felt so guilty afterwards since anything else I did ended in jeopardy, and Juliet had turned into this money bags lady that was unapproachable."

"Well, that is how I sank into oblivion and redeployed as a freak here."

Silently, I paused to access the unfolded events. This was outrageous, totally outrageous.

"So Tim, now what is your course of action after meeting Juliet today?"

It was not a question but a mere obligation to find out when and how he was going to go round this, and gauge if he was likely to take the correct course of action in trying to piece his wreck of a life into anything meaningful.

"To be honest Sam, I have no idea."

"Not even a slightest of clues."

 

 

 

 

 

THE VERDICT

She held on to her husband like the world depended on it. She held on like the continuity of the world needed it. None of the numerous numbers of people amassed for the proceeding had been as supportive as she. She was basically like the reason he had the will to power through this an unprecedented proceeding.

She held on to his hand.

He looked forth at her.

She smiled, he smiled back.

He gently squeezed her delicate hand against his as if to reassure her that all was going to be ok soon.

She smiled again and squeezed his hand too in return. These were two people terribly in love, and this little rendezvous is what was actually keeping them apart God forbid.

He stole another glance at her as he thought of this trial affair that was keeping them at bay. It had to be clear that it was starting to have a toll on him, and the minor entails of the case were all still an open secret even before his deliberating mind.

Caught unawares, she turned to him and winked. She then brushed her manicured hand across his lean arm.

She had made a formidable transition from being his whore to his wife in a hocus pocus of an instant, just like in a magical show three years ago. And here she was now, standing by the very man who had plucked him out of the jaws of poverty, and right into the heart of a blissful life. It was out of logical essence that she stands by him no matter what, an act she was already executing.

The night had been a regular criminal burst by the police acting on a tip off, that is, until a corpse and thirty kilos of a white substance were also unearthed at the crime scene. A very drunk man wielding a gun that had shot the dead man had also blacked out nearby.

She had said that she had heard her husband and someone who seemed to be his business associate enter the house, at the earlier hours of the evening. She knew better than to disturb the negotiating duo retiring to watch a movie with her three year old boy by her side, only to be roused by gunshots sounding down stairs. She fled with her son through the fire escape and called the police when in safety.

It was reported that he had allegedly shot a man in cold blood, and a neat stash of just less than thirty kilos of a white power found under his belt.

The husband was later to be found blacked out due to excessive intake of an abused substance, and a gun which was positively identified to have shot the stranger by his side, with his finger prints splashed all over it.

He on the other hand cried that he knew not the man that was being alleged was his acquaintance and business associate, only meeting him through his demise at his house, and with a handful worth of drugs to his credit too.

He further proclaimed that he never remembered being anywhere around his home town that weekend, and consuming the said liquor, raising eye brows in the courtroom about the validity of his outburst. If he was in the next town for a business trip as he was speculating, how did he just magically appear in his home?

And if indeed he was telling the truth, how can he not account for that day's activities, while his wife's testimony clearly puts him to be at home minus not knowing the alcohol consumption part? This was clearly absurd.

The wife's testimony further exposed that he had been at home that weekend and seemed a little bit distraught, opting to go have a little work done back at the office. This is when he returned hours later with the slain man in tow. A packing ticket for his car and the packing bay attendant clearly put him to have been firmly in town.

Known to the husband and many others, one of his business associates, Michael, was a suspected drug trafficker, and the slain man was rumored to be his wingman. Michael had always wanted Tim to join him in business, an offer he had declined for ages though still forging an alliance in the legitimate business. This is one of the theories Tim was trying to base his defense on, though in the mind of course.

His doctor testified that Tim was an ill tempered man and a recovering alcoholic as recent as only a month ago. He stipulated that he was still heavily in rehabilitation and the possibility of ruling out his "back sliding", needed not to be admissible in the court of law.

Peter his good company lawyer stated before the jury that Tim was having a few legal problems of his own, and was very ill tempered in the days leading up to the atrocity he committed. He further testified that Tim had monetary problems and allegedly sought after a deal which was still illusive but had contacted him about the legal logistics. Maybe the dynamic duo had failed to reach a consensus, and owing to Tim's desperation and ill temper, he decided to shot the life out of him. Could it have been all about the drug deal gone sour?

His son was conspicuously absent from the courtroom today.

Peter the lawyer was present today, the packing bay attendant was elatedly sited by the door, his doctor cautiously gazed back and forth across the courtroom, and even Michael was present too. He had priory stated to Tim that somebody was playing God in this case, and was firmly putting the two of them at collisions, easing the tension slightly between the two associates.

Then came Samantha elegantly dressed in white. She was quite a spectacle, and when she walked the buckle of her purse swayed to the music of her walk. She sat a few paces from him and splashed on the dark glasses to her eyes, as the judge walked into the courtroom.

The judge pulled out the ruling and started to read the happenings of the trial. The detailed account of the witnesses could be audibly heard fill out the room, and as they read out her testimony, Samantha whined.

Tim looked up to his wife. She had been utterly supportive to start losing it at this last minute.

The judge shouted for the court to be in order and posted a risk for someone to be held in contempt if they continued to violate his heed. The courtroom fell silent.

Everyone in the court waited in earnest as the foreman got the judgment from the bailiff over the panel of the jury, to the judge amid theatrics of tears and smeared make-up from Samantha.

When the jury was asked their verdict, they stated he was guilty on all the charges, the murder reduced to manslaughter and drug possession with intent to distribute. The sentence was life.

He cried. Tim did cry. For long moments after the verdict and sentence had been read out. It wasn't him as far as his conscious mind could remember, and here he was already condemned. He was even more confused now than when he was trying to figure out how he had wind up at one place, when he was firmly somewhere else.

He shifted his gaze back to his wife. She was shaken looking like she was hit the hardest. Then she smiled, wind up her face and started laughing.

Samantha then stood up and walked over to Michael for an embrace.

That is when the prosecution realized what had just happened. A spin artist, she had succeeded in duping the poor man and the jury in what was a purely, and an expertly orchestrated deceit.

Tim watched in disbelief at the unfolding drama in the courtroom. It had to be crystal clear that his wife's testimony, which seemed to want to protect him from the sway of the case, is what was actually incriminating him deeper into the scum.

She knew all his problems and all his itineraries, and all his plans of the financial bailout he was seeking. She was most resourceful and helpful at that time; she even suggested that he transfer his assets to her name. That is, so that when the auctioneers came knocking, his liabilities would be limited to particular assets only.

He banged his head violently on the courtroom table. Surely, you can take the artist out the con, but you can never take the con out of the artist, just as in the streets, an act Tim had just realized. And would you believe it? He had signed off his assets to her three days before his predicament started to ensue!

And with that, she walked gracefully out of the courtroom hand in hand with her co-conspirer in this little affair, leaving the dejected man poor, and a life sentence slapped on his life for his hard work and efforts.

 

Can't turn a whore into a housewife.

                    TUPAC SHAKUR, hip-hop artist

 

 

MAMA’S BOY

He always knew that evil lurked within in the midst of nothingness. Touting, staring down at the unsuspecting humanity. Stalking or just hovering around, waiting for the opportune moment to prance at someone. And with this mystery dispensation to life, he was among the numerous to encounter evil, but pure evil? He had never seen anything like it, at least not before he stepped into an empty mass and twenty one storeys downwards later, none of that mattered anymore.

"Sammy is that you my son?"

Somewhere in a distant but so close by, the above sentiment played in his consciousness together with the undeniable mental picture of his mother's teary eyes slightly obscured by a liquid like substance trickling down her cheeks. The sight was a clear teary tributary in formation drifting down her rather aged face, and indeed they descended in a free fall notwithstanding.

And a free fall was it too, as his dejected form tumbled downwards towards what he thought was a reprieve from his prior actions. A false reprieve, as his head acknowledged the hardness of the ground below to forever condemn him to oblivion and to leave the others lingering in limbo momentarily.

"Jeez its Sam's mum."

Shouted someone in their midst.

"No Sam, don't."

Screamed another as Sammy leapt over the shaky railing.

It was certainly his mother's face that was revealed from under the soiled bandana that was concealing it underneath. In a momentous instant, everyone was scaring in different directions, all but two. Then one of the remaining souls picked up a rod and smacked the other squarely on the face, sending her tumbling face down towards her already dead offspring twenty one storeys below.

Finally, everything relapsed in an unprecedented serenity. Silent, calm, peaceful, clearly, it was yet again the end of another eventful day. A day full of promise, a day full of disappointments, and just another eventful day was it, as all that was left were two corpses littering the secluded alley.

Morbid, this was not what the day had entailed earlier. It was a drastic shift to an open contrast that is what it was. It had to be that, a drastic shift from the morning's activities.

"Mum, I got admitted to Law school."

He had informed amid the tension firmly riveted in the room. This act was only a mere attempt to scatter the silence in the room and ease the tension slightly just a tiny, winy little bit.

"Oh that's great Sam, congratulations."

But the reality of the matter is what was in focus overriding even the good news just delivered.

See it was absurd. On lay at the table a half a loaf of bread. This is why they were having this conversation in the first place because they both knew that between them, the loaf of bread is what was available for the day. But here they were nonetheless talking about a promise to a better future which was so close, but yet again extremely far.

"Well ma, I got to go out, al see you later."

He just couldn't stand this and neither could she only none of them had the nerve to declare so.

"Just be home by eight Sam, I need to show you something."

"Ok ma, see you later."

And he was gone.

The admission thing had its fair toll on him as much as he would have cared to imagine. And Tim's proposal was starting to drum insistently in his thoughts. He needed not, but the more he stayed here the more he was bound to be like the likes of him, something he had promised he wouldn't be. But it had to be the only way out now, the only way he sought, a one way ticket out, a onetime thing, Tim's way out.

"Hey Tim?"

"Hey man, you have me an answer?"

"Yeah, I have you an answer, but it's a one hit only and am out."

He declared grabbing onto Tim's hand for one weird handshake.

"Alright, but that is what we all said. Look at me now….."

"Am still here and going strong for that matter."

"So six it is then?"

"Correct, I see you are learning fast and six be it then."

And a couple of minutes after six was it then when a lone woman was ambushed by the gang and her head simultaneously covered by a cotton cloth. And neatly stashed in her bag was money any of them had ever touched. They subsequently commandeered her into this abandoned building for further scrutiny.

"Sam, today's stash is all yours."

"There you go college boy, make us proud in school."

Tim complemented as he threw the new looking bag at him.

Then their captive made a fatal mistake. She tried to flee and in the unfolding scuffle, one of the members was hit extremely hard on the groin section that he wanted to remove his own mask and smack the life out of her, but he held on. He had other plans.

"Well college boy, we have an inciter in our hands here."

"Look at where she hit, I guess she wants to have some fun too."

The dude was directing his hand towards the groin section then rapidly clutched at the pain throbbed shaft safely concealed inside his khaki pants. Sam knew what they were implying and was reluctant at first. Between them he wasn't such a guy, but again these guys had just helped raise money that seemed enough for his tuition fee. So half heartedly, he became the first assailant to violate the woman who silently sobbed for fear of being harmed further, possible to death, as the seven other assailant followed suit.

"Now let us see who this is before we leave."

The gang then gathered around for the unveiling.

And there under the soiled bandana was Sam's mum, sobbing, dejected and violated. Sam couldn't believe it as he too in a moment of weakness removed his mask to have a closer look of what he was seeing.

That is when their eyes met. She had just secured a loan that she was bound to pay for the rest of her life for his sake, and this was the thanks she got in return. Everything immediately turned silent, extremely silent as Sam and the rest of the gang looked on agape at what they had just done.

"Jeez its Sam's mum."

Shouted someone from their midst.

"No Sam don't."

Screamed another as Sam leapt over the shaky railing.

In an instant, everyone was scaring in different directions, all but two. Tim then picked up a rod and smacked Sam's mum squarely on the face sending her tumbling over the railing towards Sam's body sprawled in the ground twenty storeys below.

"Crazy shit"

Tim said as he looked down to try to catch a glimpse of the two bodies below.

"Totally crazy shit"

Then he picked the bag that contained the money and casually located the stairs to leave the site of the incident.





Concept adapted from "Dancing with the Devil" by Immortal Technique


 

A HUSBAND FOR BREAKFAST

The sensual feeling was severely intense than she could have cared to anticipate. It seemed foreign in its own capacity that her body could master up such pleasures though she was already an avid participant in this kind of act.

While stirring from slumber, she couldn't help but notice that his eyes had the glare of something more than lust than she had ever seen from his kind. It seemed partly love, partly care, partly tenderness and partly a never ending affection that he had for her.

"Hey babe?"

Then he said in the huskiest voice that touched into the inner soul. It was both sexy and demanding at the same time.

"Hey."

She returned trying to savour the moment never to end. Her eyes were lightly closed as if in an attempt to dupe this phenomenal man into believing she was half asleep.

"I thought you would never open those hazel eyes."

Indeed, and if only he knew that they had already been opened and had been staring down at his for the last half hour or so, maybe his sentiment could have been different. His masculine frame had securely enclosed her in a cuddle, one so common yet so new to her now. She then flung the pillow at his unsuspecting face.

"What the……"

The rest of the words were swallowed up into the pillow as his rather handsome face was concealed under it. His exposed torso send shivers down her already sexed up and dilapidated body, but it was too late as she had been responsible for initiating the next unfolding sequence of events.

She was jerked off her side of the bed to the more than willing arms of this beast. Not in any way was she in a position to complain as the landing was cushioned by his hard chest.

"No Tim I got to ...….."

The reminder of the words were kissed off her lips as Tim darted his tongue deeper, inviting, wanting to be invited, yearning for more, forcing her to yearn for more as his blue eyes looked right into hers. It was like he had the power to look right through her and that is exactly what he was doing.

Anna wrapped her arms around his neck as if to counter the pleasure that was emanating from them. She couldn't tell how, but within an instant, the laced white thong panty was flying halfway across the room, no wonder she was starting to feel like she was.

She wasn't supposed to feel this way God forbid, but she actually was, and just like the first time in the line of their little rendezvous they were at it again.

Notwithstanding, this is anyway couldn't be classified as just any other random pickup between them, but a mutually consented action among these two participants, that is what it was.

"Special day today, you want some sugar for a hundred ninety nine?"

She asked as she gleamed all the way to his automobile. To him, she wasn't just any other being; she had to be that feminine being that he couldn't want to take his eyes off from. It was clear concerning this new phenomenon that she had those eyes, those hazel eyes that looked right at his timid face mesmerizing his whole masculine form.

Her body language wasn't anything out of the ordinary, rather it depicted her intensions vaguely, typical femininity at its best only acting against her social inclinations. And when she spoke, her voice whistled a symphony pleasant to his craned ears. It was like her form was myrrh in itself, utterly pleasant and serene.

Quite on the contrary, It wasn't any wonder that he had those eyes, those lazy eyes that could see right into a soul, but a wonder he acted illiteracy blind to see right through her. His face remained a clear blurry of uncertainty.

His body language wasn't of this world either, it's like he portrayed a kind of non-human tendency that was foreign to humanity. She just couldn't find it in her a way to piece this little puzzle together, since it was an open secret that opposite sexes attracted, a course that so far played elusive between the two of them.

And when he talked, his baritone voice tickled the very sensual nerves almost rendering her to her knees. Morals abound, this was typically an odd entity, tremendously odd.

"Yeah, I want some sugar but will it be worth my while?"

"Ecstasy's my name and I bet you have to wait to find out."

"You bet I will find out, hop in sunshine, where to now, your place or mine?"

"Certainly your lair it is macho man!"

He had never done this in his entire life and the fluidity of the way things were transpiring was beyond comprehension. Between, she couldn't quite also understand why he had to be any different from all the others, because that is what he was in plain and simple terms, like all the others, men.

But him, this man was gentle, caring and plain mysterious. His lair was typically a bachelor's pad; a flat screen patched on the wall, a hi-fi music system partnering it at the rear of the entertainment unit, and a cherry red trio of couches riddling the room. He sure had a thing to lounge in style. The inner room wasn't bad at all either, apart from an occasional pair of soiled briefs tossed carelessly around, it was decently neat. Then the six by six bed seemed like it was precisely positioned at the extreme centre of the room, that is where all the real action happens, Anna figured.

"So where do you want me?"

She asked while getting out of one of those things called hot pants and a small strapless top. It was like the hot pants were indeed hot and itching to taken off, while the top seemed small enough to fit a ten year old girl. It was fascinating to Tim as she wiggled out of those small clothes she was wearing to expose an almost see through lingerie underneath.

Why does one have to wear see through under garments when they could basically walk around with barely any at all? Tim wondered.

"I think you should get a robe from the closest, it might be a long and chilly night."

He suggested as he came to hold onto the bare ramp of her backside. This is the first time they had eye contact. He then let go of her backside just as rapidly as he had held on to it, she on the other hand shifted her gaze to the ground. He was tense and she was blushing, what a perfect combination.

In this business of pleasure the words falling for someone or love in itself do not belong in the vocabulary, but Ecstasy was starting to have one of those, falling for this mysterious client. Him to this extend, could be classified as the man delusional and falling for a hooker, a prostitute or whatever anyone wanted to brand it. Both were trading in waters that are a no go zone, and against what either needed to prescribe to.

"No……I think you got to go to work or something."

She fought to be heard amid the ecstasy that she had promised to deliver, but in the stead, that was being delivered. And indeed it had been a long night as he had foreseen, only getting better at the wee hours of the morning when they discarded the shell of morality and societal afflictions, to subscribe to human nature coming from their long talk.

None of them cared. This was like one of those so sought after phenomenon of love at first sight, or was it lust a first sight. It only remained to be seen what this action could transcended to eventually.

"Forget work and breakfast. I have a better preposition."

Seriously this time, she figured. He seemed plainly honest and sincere.

"If I were to make you my wife, what would your name be?"

Mesmerized, Anna just got out of bed stack naked and ran. She had this crazy thing called affection for this man, but this was never how it was. A husband…..yes, but a husband for breakfast….hell no…..

She wanted him that much, but not this fast anyhow. And with that, the husband to be was credited to his sole discretion at his bed, alone, and she fleeing into the world unknown.

"Excuse me; I think I will need my clothes back now."

She informed as she came back to pick her baby clothes but not finding her panties which were lingering somewhere out of sight. And she was gone, scampering for safety as she would have thought that she was.

 

 

 

 

 

QUIET STORM

Out of a script of a déjà vu, a replication of the unfolding events gave a theatrical act. The scene presented a mastery piece of typical emotive presence that though the charged atmosphere depicted a false relieve, reality underlined every aspect of the moment.

"Wow, you sure have lost weight."

She had noted.

The magnitude of the sentiment though carried undue analysis as to why such a simply laid sentence had to ignite a thorough diagnosis. But whatever the mystery, it seemed like a deliberate attempt to flounder this unprecedented proceeding.

"I hope not," echoed the response.

Clearly, morbid perceptions had long strayed from my mind that was riddled with morass happenings even though this wasn't in anyway related to the task at hand, and subsequent determent of my rather high spirit. It just remained certain that she was more gorgeous than my rejuvenated mind could configure, that is in the recent past.

Her ridiculous ploy to lick the glossed lip dispensed a seductive effect further constricting my almost clear throat, as she sat herself at the opposite end of the table. Though not inclined whatsoever to linger into such traverse thoughts, the concept of the latter couldn't steer clear of my suppressed allegiance forcing me down the dreaded course nonetheless.

The plumpness of her cheek still angled to be touched against the effect of being sure if this could trigger a calamity for the onslaught. I could almost touch it, but the nerve to do so had eluded me and indeed in my own capacity, this necessity couldn't be substantiated anytime soon.

Pretty weird as it seemed, seven months incommunicado and still a spark of emotion was rekindled, it had to be definitely absurd.

Thinking, maybe I was the one at fault, or she, or certainly both of us.

"Tom, this is me eight months due," she said.

She deliberated as she reached out for her purse to unearth a picture of herself a month or so earlier. It was a rounder, more bulky version of her and clearly had a bulging belly to that effect.

In a concealed way I blatantly gazed back and forth at the picture and her, as if to give a verdict to the cause. Not a word was uttered for long moments as I continued to fidget with the picture between my palms.

"But I lost her Tom, I sure did lose her."

"Always thought that she would be a baby girl….and which…she was… but never to be."

She lightly sobbed but in a cautious way as not to rouse the prying eyes of the other tenants at the establishment. It was even weirder trying to conceal the sentimental actions that were trying to ensue before me. I just couldn't blub to her that hey girl, am severely touched by your plight that tears is starting to stream down my eyes. It was man pride, and in such situations according to my crazy mind, maintaining cool no matter to what extent the emotional implications are tagged is the best option.

Jenny was just ten years older than my twenty one years of existence, but I had to hand it to her that she had an agility of a teenager. She still wore a pony tail, graced our college "pa-a-teys" and was even bold enough to speak her mind that is, when not firmly tutoring us.

But her face seemed to have aged just a tiny little bit, judging by the skin creased at the back of her ear. I could eloquently notice this taken from the fact one too many times we had played mock nibble of the ears.

"Anyway, how have you been honey pie?"

She asked but I believe in an attempt to hoodwink me into believing that she was alright under the current circumstances.

"I have missed you, a lot Tommie….but I guess you are riding someone else in the sack now you rascal, and that makes me jealous."

She still got it. She still got that flirt that was direct and straight to the point. But the way she has said Tommie sounded more of a pet name to me than a pep name.

And under the prior circumstances, wasn't this that got us into trouble in the first place?

The memory had since remained vivid; I mean how does one forget such an affair?

"And who do you think you are?"

Jenny blurted as the rest of the cavalry and I filed up at her office door.

It seemed redundant in an annoying kind of way as to why college tutors acted cavalierly towards students.

"Students actually, and looking for counsel about the course."

I responded being the one bold enough among the countable mass waiting on her. She seemed overtly offended but her effort to hide it played along.

"Then I guess I will only see your leader over here, who in turn will brief you if he chooses to."

Well, for the genesis, the office was a précis girlish; neat piles of books expertly stacked, a small audio receiver and a computer monitor angled elegantly to suit her prescribed dispensation on lie at the oak desk. Further away on the wall to the right was a portrait of her, which as I was to later find out hid a mirror behind it. That is where she spruced up after her escapades.

She was calmer now, a whole lot jovial and outgoing, contrary to what we or I were accustomed to. Her face had this whack aura of superiority though that seemed to want to not defiantly be contained, but still she managed to suppress it.

"You can take a seat mister……"

"Tim will be accurate."

"Oh, and he has a sense of humour too, intriguing."

To me she had that girly look that was somewhat suggesting well, you know. According to an anonymous tip, and from what I could read from her personality which was tartly influenced, she was a sex symbol molded in a perfect end result. And there is this crazy statistics that a man thinks about sex or sex related issues every eight minutes. Maybe this was my eighth minute and I was just being what I was supposed to be, a man and, or paranoid or maybe delusional.

That is when the shocker came.

"Can we discuss this over drinks; I mean you are over eighteen right?"

"You guessed it right and you are not even psychic."

I reiterated her request. It wasn't everyday that you got to have drinks with your tutor, especially an attractive one as she was. Also, she had a great sense of homour and I felt uncharacteristically comfortable around her, typical of my timid self. And a college student given an offer for drinks on a Friday that he is not paying for, that needed not a second request.

All I remember is that a couple of drinks later, she was blubbing something about me being attractive, and then we were back to basics. Boy meets with girl, boy likes girl, girl likes boy back, and the missing piece of the equation equals sexual interact. So I wound up tapping the booty, her booty, Jenny my tutor's booty.

We were all over the place, I mean in her office, back at her house, during the trip to the coast and even once during a tutorial, in the washrooms. I must admit it was exhilarating amazing.

"Tom."

"Yeah."

"Can I be your girlfriend?"

She wasn't even afraid to ask. Honestly, I wasn't only flattered, but I sure felt we had this crazy thing called a bond between us. And landmarked, it wasn't everyday that a girl asked you to be his boyfriend, especially one ten years your senior and I was honoured. I looked on hesitantly then grabbed her face in a handful.

"Yes Jenny, you can be my girlfriend if you let me be your boyfriend."

I responded then we had made love at the backseat of her car. And she became my girl that is until she started to grow something inside of her, and then she was summoned for contravening work ethics. So here we were ten months later after she had been suspended and two after her miscarriage.

I stole another glance at her. Damn, how dumb was she to suggest such a thing. Maybe she knew me all too well, for sooner or later as long as she was around, I was bound to find my way into her pants, her
flower pot and I didn't even need to struggle.

"And you know what the best part is Tim, you don't even have to worry about me being your tutor anymore, see I have been transferred."

She finally had called me by my right name. I only smiled but deep inside I had to be excitedly gape as I drowned the last volume of the drink I had long forgotten about.