She opens up the mailbox and finds a stack of letters with her name on it. One letter among the stack of regular envelopes steals her attention, a crimson envelope with white lettering on the front. She slips the envelope out in front of the others and looks upon it, her name is written with smooth flowing letters, a handwriting style she cannot recognize. She flips over the envelope and notices that the return address is non-existent. Curiosity gets the better of her and she uses her keys to slice the side of the envelope open, inside she finds a photo of her, taken a few months before when she was on vacation, with a buisness card and a letter. The photo was timeless, high contrast colour snap along the picturesque Nusa Dua beach in Bali , wearing a summery sarong and smiling vividly at the stranger taking the photo. The stranger whom she enamored greatly as a summer vacation fling. She really couldn’t help the memories that flooded her, the sensual moments that were turning her cheeks red, the electric pulses that were making her knees weak. The beautiful stranger finally sent her a letter, just like he had promised…
Who are we to resist the ways we are grafted together, We are human beings with urges to love, live and lust, To pursue your mind is just a maze that I enjoy submerging, And to lust your body is a pleasure we surely both enjoy. The animals inside with their urges I keep, Make it difficult to contain let alone think, About how it is I must resist at times inappropriate, The urge to attack you with hunting passion. Yet how can I be called a modern day man, When around you I become an animal unleashed?
She felt lustful and light headed, the excitement sent her mind in a spin. She then looked over his buisness card, it had all his details to contact him, she flipped the card round and on the back he wrote in the same curvy lettering that has now excited her so much:
The jewellery hangs delicately around her collarbones, a few inches above her bosom. The silver sits on her skin and casually ems and flows to each slight movement she makes from the breath she delivers. He can see it cutting through from the reflective moonlight seeping through the windows above their bed onto her sweet skin. She’s asleep. Peacefully. He should be asleep, he really should, but he can’t seem to flick round to slumber. After so many failed attempts with his head on the pillow, eyes closed, staring into the black that is his own eyelids he’s given up and turns to her. No counting of sheep can help him, he is just awake in the dark of the night.
She’s breathing peacefully. Softly. The tranquil way that she sleeps melts his thoughts into nothing at all. Nothing. His mind empties and slips into the final stages of rest. He slowly sees double of her, just before his eyes close. The last thing he captures in his mind before he dreams, was the sight of her asleep relaxing his tense mind.
The night is young and slightly damp from trickled rain, among slow masses dragging their feet miserably, were a wolf and elf with energy no-one can contain; who skipped and jumped louder than all so easily.
“I’ll howl at the moon, if you run this garden…”
Time couldn’t help but fly past so so quickly, jumping at whims and thoughts that were reasonable, as feverishly these two ran around hysterically, making the most amongst a pattern not so seasonable.
Maybe the wolf strayed away for too long a while, and left the elf alone as such; but they’ll say to record and file, that no time was missed that much.
“It’s true. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. That even in the presence of continual, unconditional love and affection, it is your conditional love that I crave the most. You, unlike my blood, chose to accompany me, to support me, to adore me and most importantly, love me. Counting down the days, hours, minutes and seconds.”—(via datinginthelionsden) Check out the lions den, this mysterious character is one hell of a wordsmith.
It reminds me that I am alive, and enjoying the time that is given to me. Last night I should have been asleep, slumbering for an early start where I was needed to provide nectar for the hives as a casual worker bee, but rather I was awake talking to you. We spoke about it all, about the things that make us tick, about the simple moments we shared, about the future… about everything and nothing at the one time.
I am alive.
Driving into the hive I was almost asleep behind the wheel, dangerously throwing caution into the wind with my lack of attention and consciousness. Yet, I don’t feel like this is a problem at all, since the happiness that is linked with my zombie like state gives me a slight jolt of electricity that I feel among my bones.
I am alive, and so are you.
The message I receive from you was a pleasant surprise, as it only reinstated the way I felt in you. Our muscles ache and our minds aren’t sharp today, as the lack of quality sleep alluded us both in our magnetic presence. But there are no regrets with the way we feel as of now, since it was a phonetic understanding with each other, to stay on the line and disregard our need for slumber.
But maybe tonight, we should sleep, between the sheets of the same bed, so that we can save ourselves from a zombie state that is closer to braindead. Deal?
“I was looking over the photos I have of you in my phone earlier, and yeah, I had a whole swing of emotions hit me. There was the “she’s a total little hottie”, then there was “She is definitely the yin to my yang”, followed by “fuck she is freaking fun”, that was chased quickly with “yeah, partner in crime for sure, she’ll undoubtedly help me bury a body… wait, that’s terrible. Terribly funny that is!” and there was heaps more… but you’re working. Maybe later. Yeah?”—heartmissing: inter office email play