works of fiction

Pop! Six! Squish! Uh, Uh, Cicero, Lipschitz!

Re-post from one of my older blogs: Monday, February 22, 2010

He had it coming all the way. A pity he didn’t realize he was endangered species. I despise such ignorant swines. They think they know everything, they claim they hold the world. Ladies’ man… Ladies’ man, my ass! Where were his ladies when he dropped dead?

I met him one night when I was out in a bar. His leather jacket suited his god-like body and the gin in his glass made his eyes sparkle. Me, a foolish helpless romantic, fell for his sweet words. Only later did I discover he had told that to every female in the bar. But, in that moment, I was maddened by his wrathful ego and his shameless charm. Add the level of alcohol in my blood and you’ll understand why I invited him over at my place.
Night after night we made love on the balcony of my duplex, on the table in the kitchen, on my 90-year-old neighbour’s doormat. Morning after morning, he’d pick up his things and leave, or I’d kick him out asking he never comes back again. But he did return each evening.
As time passed, this foolish woman fell in love. Dug in deep for his smile, his body, his tongue. Everything but his brains. Actually, I lost mine in search of his. I also invested my time, my energy, myself. I yearned for his touch, so I kept on giving and giving and giving. And all he did was take take take. Until I was left drained. The bastard, however, did not notice. Kept on bragging about his love life outside my bed. About the size of his dick and the strength of his muscles. About all the women on his list that waited for him being through with me.
So, one day, when I saw him sitting like that, I couldn’t resist it. His blonde hair, his fair skin – it was a turn on. So, I came to him from behind. Slowly, carefully, without interrupting him while he admired his egoistic self. There was a candlestick on the table. I took it and wrapped my fingers around one of its pipes. BAM BAM. And his body fell on the floor lifelessly.
I realized I was smiling when I went to wash my hands in the bathroom and saw me in the mirror. I felt ease thrust upon me. Was it normal that I did not feel guilty? That I felt like a saviour of the men kind? Or, the women kind, at least.


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