A writing exercise that became part of
This Darkness is Mine
As the morning sun peeked through gaps in Joe’s black window shades, she felt his arm draped across her and rolled over to face him.
She smiled with a hum and had to move in very close to detect his scent. Discreet, natural, earthy and masculine, his scent wafted through her mind, and connected tongue-in-groove with her memory of Atlanta peaches and magnolias. Sweet summer peaches with their promise of youth, pleasure and vitality, and the pristine white magnolias, like clusters of virgins whose time was not yet ripe for enjoyment. Joe’s aroma opened like magnolia petals, letting her remembrance nestle in its center, mesmerizing her in the same way as the lit torch in the courtyard fountain where they’d first met had. “Good morning, my love.”
“Buenos dias, mi amor,” Joe said.
“I have a question for you.”
“Ask away.”
“Tell me about these scars.” She caressed his bare chest, running her finger along the subtly discolored skin marking grooves deep like furrows in his bronze skin.
He stroked her exposed arm and stared intently at her hair before clearing his throat. “Those scars are from my ex-wife.”
Her chest clenched and she reached for humor. “I’d guess rough sex." But empathy took over. "Except you look so sad now. What happened?”
As the morning sun peeked through gaps in Joe’s black window shades, she felt his arm draped across her and rolled over to face him.
She smiled with a hum and had to move in very close to detect his scent. Discreet, natural, earthy and masculine, his scent wafted through her mind, and connected tongue-in-groove with her memory of Atlanta peaches and magnolias. Sweet summer peaches with their promise of youth, pleasure and vitality, and the pristine white magnolias, like clusters of virgins whose time was not yet ripe for enjoyment. Joe’s aroma opened like magnolia petals, letting her remembrance nestle in its center, mesmerizing her in the same way as the lit torch in the courtyard fountain where they’d first met had. “Good morning, my love.”
“Buenos dias, mi amor,” Joe said.
“I have a question for you.”
“Ask away.”
“Tell me about these scars.” She caressed his bare chest, running her finger along the subtly discolored skin marking grooves deep like furrows in his bronze skin.
He stroked her exposed arm and stared intently at her hair before clearing his throat. “Those scars are from my ex-wife.”
Her chest clenched and she reached for humor. “I’d guess rough sex." But empathy took over. "Except you look so sad now. What happened?”
I like this very much. You nailed that dreamy, morning after feel and then BAM, woke her up quick.
ReplyDeletewait, no...tell the rest!!
ReplyDeleteHello Debora, thank you so much for your interest. I do tell the rest, in the WIP. I don't know yet when it'll be published, but you'll certainly know when it hits the shelves. Joe's revelation about the origin of his scars scares the living daylights out of Michelle and prompts her to make a confession of her own.
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