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My first night


I forgot what time it was. Woke up to find heavy arms wrapped up over me; he was breathing heavily, warm air encircled the back of my neck and flew past to find my pierced nose before me. The audible snore, like a rhythmic machine pulsated; with the gurgling gulp on every third stroke of the snore machine, I bethought, perhaps the machine needs oiling. I carefully lifted his left arm with its pointed finger twined in the silk string under my breasts, perched it neatly atop his bent knees that were prodded into my white negligee from the back. I tugged at the sleeve end of my dress on which presently his face lay; fresh saliva was dripping out of his ellipsoid mouth on to my dress which had stiffened out of the night long salty secretion. I whisked my sleeve out of pure revulsion of the carnivorous mammal beside me. He shifted to his side of the bed; his wide nostrils throbbed and the breathing grew louder, wafted as if a goods train had come to a halt before gaining speed again.

There he lay on his back, his hairy chest heaved up and down. Under it, the wobbly belly button head of the voluble paunch stirred up and sat down. I looked away as if to save myself from the last night’s memory. The vermilion turquoise finished dressing table to one side beckoned me. I stared into the eyes of the image that stared back at me from the mirror; my eyes were gaunt with fear of a prey living under the nose of a carnivore. Cheeks were sallow, and my neck strained under the weight of creature’s paws that it bore throughout the night.

I was growing claustrophobic with the closed walls of the hotel room heaving rhythmically to that of its owner’s. I tip toed in the dark towards the den’s entrance, hit my toe against the ornamented jagged end of the writing table’s leg. Ah! It hurt badly, but I held my breath until I reached the entrance, let out a shrill cry with the door closed behind me. A pretty girl in her twenties from the adjoining room smiled at me knowingly. But I doubt if she knew what hurt me. She issued rings of ash smoke into the cold air of the morning; with a tea cup in her hand and a brown filter tipped cigarette between her lush lips froze me in my stance. She sat on a wooden chair with her legs spread out on the iron railings before her. She had a transparent white blouse on that kissed her bosoms tight and lodged itself heavenly between the two. Through the navy blue denim knickers, her thin legs spread out long and frail.

Her little eyes squinted at me, she had sharp features. With a blink of an eye, she offered me a cigarette and I felt the legs beneath me move towards her. Her long fingers brushed my wrist as I abstractedly reached for the cigarette. My nerves were taut, she offered me fire and I found my fingers quiver quaintly; so she cupped my fingers with her folded arms as if to offer fire, but instead dropped a long drawn kiss on my naked wrist. She did not let my hand go, my reticence, I could not find where it flew by. I noticed that her shoulders were narrow and with her hair let loose and the sharp pointed nose, she would put a wild antelope grazing by a serene pond to shame, ah! She was beautiful.


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