Wednesday, February 28, 2018

A Las Vegas Fable by Rachel Prin

Sunlight poured in through the windows creating a pocket of warmth that engulfed that table.  The remnants of bread, salad and dessert lightly littered the white tablecloth.
He gazed out the window, observing while he sipped at the coffee that still steamed inside the cup.
She gazed at him, observing the observer.
The path that lead to this place was a long and winding one.
All the right words had lured them both through the cityscape, the crowds, the hurdles.
This was not quite where either one thought their paths would lead, and yet here they were.  

Sipping coffee.  Surrounded by thousands, and yet choosing to remain in each others company. In her mind she had encountered his kind before and yet...he had a way. A way of rationalizing her fears. The ears? The better to hear her with.  The eyes? The better to see her with. To. Really. See. Her.  


Side by side they continued down the path laid out before them. The buildings and lights dominating the scenery, the crowds of strangers blocking all easy pathways. When the crowds became exceptionally claustrophobic he reached for her. Neither one wanting to become lost amidst this madness.

As daylight faded, a new landscape seemed to appear before them. What was once illuminated and harsh became shadowed. Buildings that once appeared weathered and worn finally appeared to come to life. She admired the transformation from 17 stories up, noting the power that light (or the lack thereof) can have. This city, like so many things, looked better in the dark.

Behind her the sounds of running water were muffled, but audible behind the glass door.  
Despite the fact that she knew better, she felt safe turning her back and leaving it exposed. Mesmerized by the slow moving lights of traffic, she didn’t even notice when the sound of water stopped.  


The glass door quietly and smoothly slid open on it’s tracks, revealing them once again to each other. Turning her head, her eyes absorbed the sight of him. The light and shadow played off one another over his body. She was struck by his strength.  The physical strength was obvious, his muscles defined and cultivated.  There was also an internal strength. She saw that now and knew that it was that which she should potentially fear. This is where true damage could be inflicted.  
Or undone.   

She could feel his eyes pass over her.  His breath, warm and determined against her skin. His hands? The better to hold her with. His mouth? The better to kiss her with.  Tonight the fear would not overwhelm her. Tonight she would trust her instinct.  Tonight she would trust herself.  Pushing the thoughts and the past from her mind she gave into him, willingly. And it was in this she discovered a feeling of her own strength. A strength that had felt so distant for so long. And it was here that she made her crucial mistake…


The next morning the room was quiet.  Sunlight fought its way through the drapes that covered the floor to ceiling windows. Pillows were scattered across the massive King sized bed.  A dress, shoes, jackets were strewn across furniture and lay piled on the floor. A couch, once aligned against a far wall was now crooked and sat out of place, pushed into the middle of the room. The blankets that had once been folded so neatly, so tightly across the bed were now a giant mass that encompassed a body...one body. Awakened by the ever determined sunlight, these same blankets, their use no longer required, were tossed to the side. Slowly the haze of sleep began to wear off and the reality of what had transpired began to sink in.  It had happened again. Throwing his hands up he omitted a cry, guttural and intense.  By doing so he relieved the feelings that had built up inside.  
This ritual satisfied, he finished dressing, tied his shoes, and walked out of the room towards the elevator.  The day was just beginning.

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