Journey of a Pain Slut – The Epilogue’s Epilogue … A Little Ghosting

Journey of a Pain Slut – A Little Ghosting

The Little Girl’s coming…She’s already here.

She slips through the casement; she’s smelling your fear…

I knew the house all too well. The electric gates, the double-garage, the stone cladding masking an unremarkable, yet essentially overgrown and ugly pretentiousness.

I knew the hallway, the turn of the wooden staircase, the landing that led to the bedrooms and his study. Not his anymore.

I knew where she would be sleeping. Alone now, in that huge bed. Perhaps she’d been watching the TV, or listening to the radio. Something to distract her from the empty silence of the house that was now just hers.

Her breathing is quiet. Her head still on the pillow. One arm stretched out to where He is not. Is she how I imagined her? Perhaps. Her hair has a faded loveliness, pale as the moonlight. Her lips, parted, remain full, soft, damp. Her neck long; lined with the years but not that of the middle-aged woman that she is. Her breasts, beneath her dark negligée, rising and falling, still possessed of a youthful firmness.

I imagine Him lying with her, his arms around her. I imagine Him making love to her. Thinking of me. His eyes shut, holding a picture of me. My open mouth, my dark hair, my slender body, my parting legs. And Him, on her, kissing her, pushing into her, lying to her.

I want to touch her.