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Posted on: February 15, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
I listened to the slow pulse of Lust as it crept into the room. The door had been sealed with painters’ tape and a wet towel but it still found me. It moved across the floor giving rise to the wood like a wave. The force made me trip and stumble backwards into the first bedroom. I was barely fast enough to push the door closed behind me. Immediately the clawing started. The scratching sounded like pleading. The kind of begging that digs into the flesh to draw something out that is not readily given. My intention was to grab a couple of condoms and packs of travel lube when I was stopped cold. In all the excitement I had forgotten about the picture of Stephen that I’d printed from an email he’d sent. My heart pumped my chest full with anxiety. I didn’t understand what had happened to us, how Lust had torn things apart so easily. I told myself to focus, that Stephen wasn’t coming back. The Lust had consumed him. I turned in panic at the sound of the opening door. Quickly, I fingered and filtered through the contents of the drawer beside the bed searching for what I needed and stuffed my pockets full. Five condoms, I counted. “Does carrying five condoms make me look fat” I wondered. Whatever the feeling was that inched to consume me, I was prepared for anything. The sound and motion of the floor writhing like a body in heat forced me ...
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