Wednesday, December 4, 2013


            The road was boring. It was just endless miles of open country without definition or form. It wound backwards in rolling mediocrity and plainness. The fields kept going, cultivated, cut up and numbingly flat. The highway was without any bumps, hills, curves or substantial feature except for the occasional ker-flump sound of the tires rolling over a poorly patched, tar filled crack. Eric sighed and adjusted himself behind the steering wheel. He thought of Celine.

             She was always on his mind and yet was the reason Eric had endeavored to run away. She was the epitome of sexual desire to Eric. She filled his mind with erotic fantasies to the point of torture. She didn’t want Eric the way he wanted her. It burned him to the point of being a jerk. He’d say things to her that weren’t quite right, almost embarrassing, things that just weren’t part of his normal character. Or at least the character he tried to project to others.

             Eric drove past a murder of crows scavenging the carcass of some poor mess of former animal along the side of the road. They cawed and cackled as he zoomed by. Some of the crows took flight while others were oblivious to his passing speed. He looked back at them in the rear-view mirror against the graying asphalt. He shivered a little at the thought of the circle of life and the carnivorous elements of existence. He gave the car a little more gas, speeding up to put more distance between himself and the crows, and the thoughts of Celine.

             Sexy Celine and her beautiful shape, the curve of her hips, her short yet perfectly formed legs, her soft skin and watery blue eyes. Eric could almost see her in his mind’s eye against the boring and shapeless environment of the Great Plains. He was barely paying attention to the road as his mind lingered on Celine. He lingered on his desire for her. His dreams of their togetherness. He thought that if she were with him right now, in the car, this drive would not be so bereft of meaning. Maybe his soul would not be so alone. He’d have her hand to hold onto as the miles rolled by on the odometer. He’d give her a little squeeze and she’d squeeze back, maybe she’d flirt a little and hike her skirt up exposing a little more of her upper thigh, nothing distasteful, just enough to make Eric consider pulling the car over and make love to her in some barren field. He imagined her soft lips on his, her hands moving about his body with passionate frenzy.

             A car zoomed past Eric’s on the right. They honked at him as they passed and Eric snapped back into the present. He realized he was drifting into the right lane slightly. The damn thoughts of Celine had tortured him again. She’d never squeeze his hand back. She’d waste her time on men who wouldn’t love her right. On men that couldn’t ever comprehend that she was more than just a good time gal. Eric cleared his throat and focused on the bland road ahead.

            The sun was setting in the west but there were no shadows cast. There was nothing around Eric but the road and flat fields, nothing to cast a shadow or image of the passing of the world into night, forward into a new morning. He wondered if she’d miss him. He wondered if she’d even notice he was gone.

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