Meeting My Fate
janine canan
My white dog pulled me to the door. I knocked, and it opened. A magnificent woman rose off her chair, greeting me in a voice that pealed like an old mission bell. I shrank back, and pulled my dog with me. I hadn't even bothered to change my clothes -- still had on jeans and a white tee shirt painted with pink and turquoise symbols. It was a hot afternoon.
Along the wall I slunk toward a table where our hostess had set out the drinks. Pouring myself a tall tonic, I glanced around the room. The only empty seat was a small chair nestled against the body of the large woman, who I now saw wore black.
I sipped my drink slowly, thinking. There was no other place to sit. Resolutely, I stepped toward the uncomfortable stool, and squatted down. I leaned as far forward as possible, keeping my eyes lowered to the carpet -- so I couldn't see her.
But she had already resumed her commanding tone. I can stop this, I imagined -- ejaculating syllables sharp and cold as ice cubes. However, as the last sound melted in air, something snared my attention. I lifted my head slightly. On her broad breast sleeping birds lay suspended -- turquoise, white and shining onyx.
How beautiful! I gasped with uncontrollable passion. I raised my face all the way up to her luminous smile. Her eyes were beaming. One was an exquisite sapphire that reflected the wide blue sky. The other contained a broken iris that sprawled into darkness.
