It has been a while since I did a writing challenge. There’s not much time until this one closes, so it’s been dashed off a little too quickly.
QUAINT (adjective) 1: obsolete: EXPERT, SKILLED 2a: marked by skillful design b: marked by beauty or elegance 3a : unusual or different in character or appearance : ODD b : pleasingly or strikingly old-fashioned or unfamiliar Remember: • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words. • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post. • The word itself needs to be included in your response. – See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.gpEhjNCd.dpuf
Tomorrow he will leave my room with no apparent sense of shame, no false confession of affection, no backward glance. He is going home – to her, longing to be home after seven days in this parallel universe, this other place.
Tonight he will take my hand and, slipping wordlessly away from the companions of this day, lead me to bed. Tonight he will explore each centimetre of my body with a far-too confident familiarity; will tease me, please me, ease me into ecstasy, time over and again. Tonight he will delight in orchestrating the giving of all that is me, to him and tonight he will hold a little of himself back – for her.
This he will tell me, with a disarming smile and in that lubricating Northern lilt: “You are not my wife.”
This evening we shall sit together, too closely. His hand will linger on mine when he brings my wine and I, I shall lean a little too far forward when I reach for my glass. This evening we will talk a great deal, laugh more than is necessary, pay too little attention to our friends, and drink more than a little too much. Anaesthetised, I will not hurt too badly when later he states the obvious.
This sunny afternoon as we enjoy the welcome shade from the overhanging upper storeys of the iconic cobbled street, we have yet to touch, have still to acknowledge, have not yet made the signals. Yet when he emerges from the dim shade of the dusty little shop selling jewelled antiquities bearing the quaint trinket in his hand, he knows, and I know, that the gilt offering will be needed.
Right now I am aware of a level of contempt for the man who so easily cheats on his wife and also for the woman who knows that she will find this rogue to be irresistible.
Tomorrow I will pause to wonder how many such gifts he has brought to her at Summer’s end.