And then…

No sooner than I get the woman on the steps situated than does my Muse send me this.  It’s a mash-up of real life and wishes.  It’s also very rough draft so read at  your own risk, ;-).

 

Two women sit at the bar. It’s happy hour so there’s a decent sized crowd of mostly regulars. One woman is older, the other not so much.  You can tell they’re related.  He approaches the younger one thinking she’s the easier prey.

“Hey.  Aren’t you looking fine this evening.”  He continues to say what he thinks is flattering, but instead might as well be, “I’m going to rape you.”

The older woman breaks into his incessant blather with a smile coating a chilling, “Be careful.  You’re talking to the love of my life here.”

“Oh, so  what, this is your girlfriend?”  He’s cocky. Confident he can bully the ‘old’ lady out of the conversation.

“No. She’s my daughter.”  The smile is there as camouflage.  Any normal human being would notice that, but not him.  He’s a primate operating under the illusion that he’s an alpha.  He has no idea what that means, just that by virtue of being attached to a penis, he rules the world and women, regardless of their humanness, must bow before his will. He means to have the young one, so of course, he will.  Figuring he can bend the younger one’s mind, he leans in, talks more directly to her, thinking he is shutting out the elder’s influence.  “Listen, if you’re old enough to be in a bar, sipping a cocktail, you’re obviously old enough to make up your own mind. You can’t let your mom run your life forever. So check it. Let’s you and me go some place where we can be alone. I promise, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”   He mistakes her silence for contemplation, so he continues his verbal assault.  She stands up when he touches her arm, suggestively rubbing his hand on her skin as if she’s already given permission.  Jaws tight, she moves away, hugging her mother as she passes.

“I told you, to be careful.”

“What? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

The words haven’t left his lips before he finds the hand with which he committed the physical offence pinned to the surface of the bar by the short, wide blade of a beautiful knife. If given the time, he would have observed the expertly carved marble handle. It’s intricate pattern of Asian style dragons inlaid with traces of jade and gold.  Unfortunately, the shock has him momentarily blind.  He can however hear quite well as the older woman, who is now standing behind him, holding another beautiful knife, obviously the twin to the one currently letting his blood flow freely across the bar’s surface, to his throat.  Using the same, overly suggestive, faintly threatening tone he was just using in his attempt to woo the young one, she whispers in his ear, “There are many ways I would kill you, none of them are quick, all of them involve a great deal of pain. Men like you never think you can become victims of women, especially women like me. You think we’re all weak. That our fear will render us compliant. I’m not afraid of you. You may very well be physically stronger than me, but you will never out wit me which means you will never see my attack coming. Consider this a warning. Drop it here and now. If our paths should ever cross again, and that goes for my daughter as well, should you ever see either one of us again, remember this night and let it go. As the song says, just walk on by.  If you do not, there is no end to the pain I will cause you. Do I make myself clear?”

He nodded, careful not to jar his body too much lest the cold blade pressed to his neck slip to his disadvantage.  It took him another minute or so to realize she’d let him go, she was just that smooth, the blade pinning his hand, just that sharp.

No one else at the bar had seemed concerned or even fazed. The bar tender, another woman he’d once assaulted with his brand of seduction, passed a towel to him for his hand as she finished cleaning the counter with a strong-smelling, hospital grade disinfectant.

“That bitch is crazy.” He was near panicked, looking frantically around for a male with which he could share his outrage. But the few men he caught the eye of shook their heads, distancing themselves from his behavior, silently agreeing with the consequences of his foolishness.  One of them slid his scared hand out of view.

 

Fairly sure there’s a story surrounding this scene. Just have to file it away with the rest and come back to it as things play themselves out.  Damn, it feels so good to be writing again.

writing

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