Plush (UG)
Created | Updated Nov 16, 2007
She's plush. That's all that he could describe her as. Relating her personality to a soft toy. Something you tuck into bed with you to keep you company on cold, lonely winter nights. Soft to touch, pliable, something you can forget about the whole day, but there when you go to sleep. Plush. Even the word itself evokes feelings of warmth. The sofa is plush, the pillow, something to rest on but not interact with. But I wasn't altogether sure she didn't disagree with the description, she seemed almost pleased with it. She had smiled and kissed his cheek gently, wrapping her arms about his neck from behind. Oh, I'd wanted to do the same, and slip my fingers around that neck, choke the thin sorrowful little life out of his flesh and bones... where does he get off treating her like his plaything?
I felt hot in the bar and I couldn't smile at them anymore. I'd tried. Believe me, I'd tried. I can't even recall why the subject had been raised, it always made me uncomfortable seeing her with him. A sister deserves better, she really does. Someone like me. I knew what she wanted, needed, more than he ever could. But no. She'd picked him to spend the rest of her days with - 'til death do us part'. That part intrigued me. Always has. Death is final? Perhaps. I'd like to think of it as the next step. An alternate reality. Like that new computer game, the one where you can play at being a god. Well, that's an alternate reality isn't it? Why can't your last breath be the 'PLEASE WAIT. LOADING...' phase of a new game? Death - the ultimate RPG. Wizards of the Coast would pay billions for the rights.
My eyes wandered back to the pair. How could he have the pleasure of playing the new game? Plush indeed. But my sister, both of us could play DEATHâ„¢ (only available for the new Sony Lifestation) until the high scores flew by. Infinity points scored. I know I must have smirked for he then said,
"You think it's funny what he's doing?"
He must have started in on politics again, likes to think he's clever and worldly, but all it does is succeed in increasing my levels of boredom. I mumble a,
"No, sorry. I'm to the bar, want anything?"
and stand. He pushes his glass forward then turns to look at a group of young, tightly clothed girls that have walked in, laughing and giggling. Every head turned, but his lingered longer. Wandering already. I glanced across at my sister, but she was watching his throat, the little Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. She was smiling and I did too, lost in what I could do with that leftover religious relic in his neck. I turned away and retreated to the bar, using the dull throb of music and conversation to settle my temper. A pale guy at the bar smiled at me as I waited for attention from the overly happy girl serving drinks. I pretended to acknowledge him and he came closer. Brave, even foolish.
"Can I get you a drink?"
To the point I guess. I replied in the affirmative, a free drink is never a bad thing. I told him a medium priced spirit and he raised an eyebrow.
"My poison of choice too."
He had the same bobbing demon in his throat as my sister's husband and I was enthralled. For different reasons than my sister though, I admit that. He blushed then, I think I had been staring. The drinks came, I took mine, smiled, thanked him and walked away. I expected him to follow, but he didn't. That was strange in itself I thought. I found myself returning once more to the bar and sitting near him.
"You intrigue me."
Three simple words. Could mean so many things. Casablanca? No. But he was interesting, in an ugly way. I found myself imagining him with me. In a bus. At a restaurant. In bed. He had been talking, I'd been nodding. While he had nothing to say, it was everything. Is that what my sister felt? Can't say it was love, maybe lust. But now he had said,
"Death."
I'd heard that. And it sparked my imagination. I found myself explaining my theory. He wasn't smiling, nor shocked. Simply...interested. Hook, line and sinker. Shortly, I followed him outside to the alley. To the groping. To the sex. To the moment he wrapped his thin fingers about my neck.
"Death."
PLEASE WAIT. LOADING...