Chapter Thirty Four
Julia sits upon her bed, John is in the kitchen and John’s weakness sleeps.
She sits in the luxury of satin lingerie, the cool black material brushes her skin with a seductive softness, like the ocean breeze. She runs her hand over her full breasts and lets it drift down to her crotch, revelling in the moist warmth. How long will he take?
The answer comes in a whispered name, “Julia…”
Out of the melting shadows he stands before her, his white skin glows in the soft lamplight.
“I am yours, Lord.” She cries softly, “My husband, take me with you in the eternity of your kiss.”
She waits, hungering for the inevitable.
Confusion plays for a moment across the dead man’s mind. She knows him, wants him. Perhaps she seeks to escape this mortal existence, live everlastingly in the shadows; a creature of two worlds and yet of none.
He looks deeply into her pleading eyes, beyond and into her soul. From all eyes the soul shines and he, who has lived so long, could read them, know them, recognise them as they raced from incarnation to incarnation.
Hers so new, so corrupt, so mislead.
Yet the hunger has become a deafening roar in his head.
He walks casually to her expectant form.
© 1990 & 2006 Andrew M Boylan