representation of a nude woman on all fours with an oval of glass balanced on her back served as a coffee table. The warped figure, far removed from realism, was considered art.
Peeling lime wallpaper on her left ended as the jutting wall cornered at a short hallway. Between the living room and the master bedroom, it provided access to a single bath. Following his gesture, she approached the bed while he rummaged through a number of locked cabinets at the other end of the room by a shuttered window. The blinds narrowed at his verbal command, dimming the room to the point her glowing wings gave off more light than the day.
“Aha. There we are. You said you fancied a zoomer, right?”
“Yes, please.”
She looked up wearing the expression of an eager orphan begging for food, holding her hands together at her heart. He tossed it like a frisbee onto the bed, landing the small patch in front of the pillow. Like a dog after a treat, she pounced, clambering up to it and picking at the adhesive. Her coordination dulled from the withdrawal, it took some doing for her to work the thing free of the backing.
Plonk joined her on the bed, kissing her on the shoulder and caressing her body in an attempt to be at least somewhat romantic. Anna paid little attention to him, and scarcely noticed him inside her after a few minutes. The small square in her hand offered an escape from where she was, who she was―and the filth in which she wallowed.
Whatever went on behind her did not matter at all; what Plonk did to her was worth what she held in her hand. Closing her eyes, she pressed the derm into the tender skin of her wrist. His whispers and grunts dissipated into a sublime sense of floating.
Her face fell into the pillow as the cold zoom spread through her arm. All the misery melted away in the onrush of contentment. She smiled, basking in the rapid retreat of the pain and discomfort of being separated from it for an agonizing day. Reality, and the pillow, faded into clouds.
She sailed upon pixie wings into a forest of hallucination.
Giggling, she looped over branches and glided through the leaves. Birds flew up alongside her, chirping merrily. The storybook woods blurred by in patches of emerald and brown, shafts of sunlight offered warm rays through which she flitted before diving to frolic in the grass. Settling upon a leaf, she drank it free of dew and reclined.
After a moment of blissful rest, a poke in the rear end woke her. Pixie glanced over her hip at a furry little animal with huge cartoon eyes. The diminutive woodland creature, looking a bit like a shaggy beaver with Plonk’s teeth, clung to her rump and fussed with a yellow lamp helmet, flicking at the lens twice.
“Oi. Lil’ help here luv. Can’t do this all on me own and the wick’s running out.”
She smiled, cooing, and stretched back into the leaf―asleep.
drift in a breeze as listless as she was, Annabelle’s hair brushed at her cheeks. Legs dangling through the balcony railing, she stuck her head through and gazed down past her toes at The Ruin, thirteen stories below. London cowered beneath an overcast sky; she couldn’t tell if it was before noon or almost dusk.
“You okay? Ye were all sixes and sevens last night.”
Anna pulled her head out from between the bars and glanced up at Penny, her face a mask of accepted disgrace.
“Had ta cop off with Plonk again when I came to, said the first wasn’t good ‘nuff since I was as good as brown bread. He wouldn’t let me leave till I
paid
him back.”
Penny stooped behind, pulling Anna’s hand over and smirking at the derm. “You ought to quit these, girl. They’re not an Elastoplast for the heart.”
“I can’t.” Tugging her arm back, she hid handcuff marks in the folds of an over-large nightshirt.
The breeze picked up, making her shiver. Penny tugged at her until she got up and went inside, and then closed the sliding door to shut out the gale. Anna flopped on the bed and tried to rub
Peeling lime wallpaper on her left ended as the jutting wall cornered at a short hallway. Between the living room and the master bedroom, it provided access to a single bath. Following his gesture, she approached the bed while he rummaged through a number of locked cabinets at the other end of the room by a shuttered window. The blinds narrowed at his verbal command, dimming the room to the point her glowing wings gave off more light than the day.
“Aha. There we are. You said you fancied a zoomer, right?”
“Yes, please.”
She looked up wearing the expression of an eager orphan begging for food, holding her hands together at her heart. He tossed it like a frisbee onto the bed, landing the small patch in front of the pillow. Like a dog after a treat, she pounced, clambering up to it and picking at the adhesive. Her coordination dulled from the withdrawal, it took some doing for her to work the thing free of the backing.
Plonk joined her on the bed, kissing her on the shoulder and caressing her body in an attempt to be at least somewhat romantic. Anna paid little attention to him, and scarcely noticed him inside her after a few minutes. The small square in her hand offered an escape from where she was, who she was―and the filth in which she wallowed.
Whatever went on behind her did not matter at all; what Plonk did to her was worth what she held in her hand. Closing her eyes, she pressed the derm into the tender skin of her wrist. His whispers and grunts dissipated into a sublime sense of floating.
Her face fell into the pillow as the cold zoom spread through her arm. All the misery melted away in the onrush of contentment. She smiled, basking in the rapid retreat of the pain and discomfort of being separated from it for an agonizing day. Reality, and the pillow, faded into clouds.
She sailed upon pixie wings into a forest of hallucination.
Giggling, she looped over branches and glided through the leaves. Birds flew up alongside her, chirping merrily. The storybook woods blurred by in patches of emerald and brown, shafts of sunlight offered warm rays through which she flitted before diving to frolic in the grass. Settling upon a leaf, she drank it free of dew and reclined.
After a moment of blissful rest, a poke in the rear end woke her. Pixie glanced over her hip at a furry little animal with huge cartoon eyes. The diminutive woodland creature, looking a bit like a shaggy beaver with Plonk’s teeth, clung to her rump and fussed with a yellow lamp helmet, flicking at the lens twice.
“Oi. Lil’ help here luv. Can’t do this all on me own and the wick’s running out.”
She smiled, cooing, and stretched back into the leaf―asleep.
drift in a breeze as listless as she was, Annabelle’s hair brushed at her cheeks. Legs dangling through the balcony railing, she stuck her head through and gazed down past her toes at The Ruin, thirteen stories below. London cowered beneath an overcast sky; she couldn’t tell if it was before noon or almost dusk.
“You okay? Ye were all sixes and sevens last night.”
Anna pulled her head out from between the bars and glanced up at Penny, her face a mask of accepted disgrace.
“Had ta cop off with Plonk again when I came to, said the first wasn’t good ‘nuff since I was as good as brown bread. He wouldn’t let me leave till I
paid
him back.”
Penny stooped behind, pulling Anna’s hand over and smirking at the derm. “You ought to quit these, girl. They’re not an Elastoplast for the heart.”
“I can’t.” Tugging her arm back, she hid handcuff marks in the folds of an over-large nightshirt.
The breeze picked up, making her shiver. Penny tugged at her until she got up and went inside, and then closed the sliding door to shut out the gale. Anna flopped on the bed and tried to rub
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