Framed Away

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Framed and away.

Submitted: November 25, 2007

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Submitted: November 25, 2007



The nights were long, clear, a dull being before the sun made its way in to its regretful shine of his revealed counted days. He knows no one will come, rescue him and sadly least; notice him at all. ‘A gypsy curse’ is how he seen it, the day he decide to walk out on his wife. She was in the middle of trying to convince him to by a pool, a under ground pool for their new home. That was after he had been watching her eyeballing the two men next door. The two men: homosexuals and he couldn’t stand the thought of it. He knew she was up to something and he was sure as hell that it was going to involve them.
“Oh come on, this is our future.” She said standing next to the dinning table, the pamphlets laid out with her hand on them as he ate his breakfast shaking his head.
“We live in a nice community, lots of pools. You want a pool, go for a swim, there’s plenty of them around.” He told her then brings his hand up over his face as the other slid a fork of scrambled eggs up in to his mouth.
“Well, weather you like it or not, this house is getting a pool.”
“This house,” He said, dropping the fork on to the table as she stepped back and away with the pamphlets in her hand, then slipped them down in to her shirt and into her braw. He stands up, turns his back to the table, throwing the napkin up over his shoulder as he turns his back to his seat.
“Yes, this house, and a pool.” She said, standing him at his stand and looking him in the eye. He looks at her, down in to her breast as the pamphlets begin to slide on down then took a step forward, knocked her in the shoulder with his and walked her on by as she whimpered: watching the pamphlets fall to the floor. With out stopping or looking back, with out a doubt for his rejected compassion for the women he had been sharing a bed with; he walks on out the door, leaving her there in her place, picking the pamphlets up from off of the floor and with a table, which has had its breakfast disturbed.
The sun was rising, coming in to its full gloom of the morning’s peak. He lets his BMW coast, setting it on after he filled it up at the last of the gas stations marking the town line roads. “Gypsies” He said, looking over the flyer that the gas attendant gave him. He lets his eyes scroll down on to the exotic dancer’s, advertising a full reading ‘internal and external.’ “Now that’s something worth knowing about” he said then read the all night deal in under the exotic pitcher of a women and thought to him self that a day or two away was just what he is going to be needing as he accelerated, resetting his cruise control into its top speed.
Hours went by, the flyer folded in half set up on the dash, showing the exotic women and the directions to it. He looks around, looking for this place of no other, a place where he could release all of his problems and be away from the life that has now led him in to a dead end from out of civilization. He stares up into the sky, noticing that the winds were blowing the clouds in to a dark quicker than they usually would, then from out of the corner of his eye he seen it; a light blinking in three different shades of red as the building beneath it slowly lit in to its fade, letting the brightest of blinked light its surroundings. He checks the reads on his warning panel, thinking he has to hit in to the dirt with the sixty five thousand dollar car that he bought for him self, the car his wife hated because of all the attention it would gather. With a glimpse on to the flyer, staring on to the women of exotica then watching, looking around and knowing no one is there or going to stop him. He turns the car over on to the dirt and rolls on in towards the light, letting his seat absorb the ride as he seen himself parking in under that red flashing blinking glow.
“Hello” she said, knowing her appearance was going to stand him in for a stand still. He stops and goes blind, his thoughts race back to the main entrance way as his mind follows along, showing him all of the paintings on the wall, the little statue men lined up on the shelves behind the front counter along the wall then as he passed them and walked by a row of man size figurines.
“Now, now” She said, rubbing her hand on to his face, sliding her palms in to his eyes.
“Yes” he said, feeling her skin sending a striking red bright in to his view then opened his eyes.
“Yes” she said it again; he watched as the pitcher in the flyer swept up off his dashboard and knocked him in the face. She was it, all and more. A striking image of a goddess, long dark brown hair, big brown eyes, and a set of lips he could only dream about from when he was a kid. She step back, looked him up and down as he stood there with in his own taste for thoughts then let the red silk robe lined with red crystals fall to the floor and revealed her body of erotica to him.
“shush” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him in behind her and he begins to step to her beat, letting his thoughts from in a civilized manner pass him by before she stepped him in thru a beaded door way then turned her head back and watched the ruby’s and crystals shine in to his face as she swung open the door.
He sits motionless, not knowing if it was for real, sitting in a chair naked as this beautiful woman stands in front of a paint board with a brush in her hand. His absent breaths leave him with out a read, the read that could tell him if he has been lip to lip with her, if he already pleasured him self in the company of the silent women who is painting him as he sits naked in a chair. His skin, he can feel it begin to rubber from wanting to stand to his feet and give him self to her for a memory, the reason why he was their as his lust sends its mean from in his eye feeding him a temptation to now let her know he is there. She looks on to him, knowing the last of his boiling blood is setting up in to his head. She steps out from in behind the painting, smiles then turns the painting around with her left hand.
“Gypsy curse” he says, watching him self being eaten from in the one means for a life from another as he sets a stair from in the painting mounted on the wall of her kitchen as that red blinking light shines in thru its window. The exotic beauty, the goddess he had come to be read, to relief his life’s sorrow and for the time he needed away; now sits to her self at her table, his corps laid out, spilling his blood in to both ends as it leaks in to the barrels set at each. She looks up on to him, stares in to the painting, looking him straight in the eyes then follows its frame around before she lifted the fork of his flesh back up and sucked back the juices from in the quench on his flesh.

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