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Halloween
Lily has been reading Anaïs Nin. It's in her
desk beneath the scrap paper. She has been
reading way too much Anaïs Nin, and now tries to
place together currents between people she has
been reading about. She realises everything has
the potential of sex behind it. She catches a
smell and runs it through her mind for half an
hour. At the traffic lights the man in the next
car raises his eyebrows. Is it threat or
invitation?
***
The drive to work and home again punctuated his
days. That flat backwards stretch gave him a
pocket in time where he could lay his mind flat
like the road and let his thoughts expand. A few
other cars jutted along the highway, all of them
the wrong way, against the traffic. He crossed
the imaginary line every morning, from a small
town almost far enough away from the city to be
called country and not close enough to be a
suburb, out to the districts, the opposite way
of the rest of the traffic.
Across the pastures that stayed green even in
the middle of drought, he recalls a time when he
thought of being a dairy farmer. He smirks a
bit, keeping his eyes on the road. Good money
but hard hours and now all the farms have been
bought up by the big companies. Instead he ended
up on a couple of acres with some fruit trees
down the back and a nine to fiver job like
everyone else. Oh well.
***
From his office he can look out of his window to
the lunchroom, catching the reflection off the
commercial grade fridge he can see who is in
there on their break. He waits for Dorothea to
come out at 12 noon on the dot. (Mondays at
11.45) Today she waddles down on cue in her red
cardigan, pilling on the arms and such a
forceful colour that it makes the rest of her
fade. He counts the days since he last saw Lily.
Not long enough, only last week he went and
asked about leave accumulating. Was she here
today? Normally he would catch a flash of her
car breeze past the front of the office at ten
minutes before nine, sometimes even find an
excuse to walk across to the other side of the
building to watch her walk across the rear
carpark and come in the back door as she did
every morning. She had a routine, her stride was
always even and her head tilted slightly up.
Effortlessly she would pull her security pass
from her big red bag with her left hand, swipe
it across the panel and walk through the
doorway. It was a routine she had repeated so
regularly that she did not even look to her bag
or break her step.
He looks at her neatly pinned hair and skinny
legs that stick out from beneath her coat. Once
he had tried to describe it out loud in words.
He had been looking at a digger that had been in
an accident when he caught a glimpse of her
eating lunch alone in the smidge of green left
beside the quarry. Instead of words he just
chocked and gave a cough.
***
Well, every day is Halloween around here. She
gets out of the car and walks across the yard.
The dust from the quarry gets up her nose
straight away, she sucks it up, its just dust,
and what is so terrible about dust? Everything
turns to dust anyway, she works in the dust and
it will turn into money. Then the money is dust,
right? What then? Imagine, just a few more
zeroes and she will be out of here. All that
nothing will be turned into something... zero
zero zero. Bang. Last night Jarod was drunk and
Sally stayed over. They played loud music and
she couldn't sleep, so she stayed up and wrote a
eight hundred word email to Jo. She got a three
line reply. Awake, she had stayed up reading old
emails, following the snake chain that weaved
between them, back and forth. His words were
kind and grateful. She blinked, kept her feet
crunching the gravel, walked through the door
and through the corridors into the office she
shared with Dorothea.
'Happy Halloween.' Said Dorothea from behind her
computer monitor.
You are Halloween, she thought.
Someone had hung some paper Jack o Lanters in
the hallway but beyond that she would not have
noticed the date.
'Some of the boys are running around in costumes
over in operations. Johno looks like Harry
Potter' she said giving a snort of a laugh.
'Really?' said Lily 'Did any of the girls dress
up?'
'Jamima's wearing an ugly orange dress but I
don't think she did it on purpose. I need you to
get all the end of month reports done by lunch
time.'
'No problems.' Said Lily.
She had done it all Friday afternoon when the
rest of the staff were getting drunk but had
left the paperwork in her desk. She only had
enough work to keep busy about half the time but
had learnt early on it was better to shut up
about it. She logged on messenger to see who was
there, then pulled out a pile of scrap paper and
put it in her intray in case any managers should
walk past.
***
You've read this story before, right? Boy
meets girls, boy gets girl. You know the drill.
Of course you might be expecting more this time.
Little clues have been left for you, tasty
clues. For a while you'll get to know Lily and
James, even like them. You'll want them to have
each other. But will they? Well, probably. They
might even love each other. She might just be a
princess waiting for a prince!
***
'Hi Lily.' She glanced up from her computer,
wide eyed a little surprised suddenly drawn away
from what she was concentrating on.
'James. Hi.' She replied, watching him stand in
the doorway 'No costume?'
'Don't really buy into it.'
'Too bad. You've missed a golden opportunity to
run around like an idiot and go to the pub after
work.' She replied with a light hearted laugh.
'You going tonight?' he asked.
'No unless you've got a fake ID for me.'
'Oh. Sorry, forgot.'
'Maybe in eighteen months.'
'I'll buy you a drink in eighteen months.'
She shrugs. A pause rose up between them where
it felt like someone should of said something,
but no one did.
'Is Dorothea around?' her name broke the strange
mood, a reminder perhaps of where they were.
'No she is at lunch. Can I help?'
She saw something, a glint in his eye, a tiny
movement of muscles in his expression that meant
something in a language she didn't speak.
***
There were two types of people in the office.
Those that were resigned to their fate, that is
they turned up at nine each day and did as
little as possible before the end of the day.
They collected their paycheck on Thursday and
that was the end of it. Then there where the
types that gave a shit. Lily considered the
emails the thing to give them away, an employee
that sent and email before eight or after six
was usually one of the alter types. She liked
James simply for this reason. He did things
properly, taking the time to explain things to
customers and staff. If he walked past a piece
of rubbish in the yard he would pick it up.
He came around looking for Dorothea, but always
ended up seeing her. She didn't think about it
until Jasmine in Recievables made a comment
under her breath.
She walked to the photocopier at ten to five
only to have Jasmine cut in front of her.
'Saw your boyfriend again today sauntering
around your office.' Said Jasmine.
'Sorry?'
'James. Fancy that, a man with a wife and babies
lusting after an eighteen year old.'
'Actually I'm not eighteen, and our relationship
is based on a mutual esteem and wit. But you
probably wouldn't understand that.'
'What is that supposed to mean?'
Lily spun on her heel and went back to her
office with a little smirk on her face.
Perhaps it was victory or something else, but
she suddenly felt different. She packed up her
desk five minutes early and left, crumbling down
the gravel road, down the hill and into the
town, straight to the pub.
***
What else can happen? She meets him, she
young and vulnerable. Maybe not as vulnerable as
you might think based on an initial impression.
She reads pornography, so she's probably a slut
underneath all that virginity. He is middle
aged, wanted a life he didn't get. Stuck with a
young family and a thankless job. What else can
happen? You know what happens. They have a drink
or two. He looks her in the eyes and pays her a
marvellous compliment. He is sincere and she has
a horrible home lief and has never had many
compliments. Come on, life is crappy for Lily
with her drunk brother and dusty, dirty job.
Would you fall for it? Would you let him lead
you outside and put you up against a brick wall?
Lily is at the bar with her back to him. She has
places her big red bag on the stool next to her.
Long butterscotch waves fall down her back, he
has never seen her hair lose before. He wants to
touch it, he dreams of the scent of her hair.
Black pant show the swell of her ass, reveal a
slice of honey skin of her back and the curve of
her waist.
Feeling his gaze she turns and smiles.
James is handsome. He is too old for her, she
knows, and married. No future here but she
doesn't mind so much. She has decided her life
will be like an Anais Nin story now. As he sits
down beside her she ruffles his charcoal hair,
he is shocked at her intimacy but she just
smiles again.
'I'm glad you came.' She says.
'I'll buy you a drink.' He offers.
They drink together and she inches herself close
to him, their thighs brush, her cheeks blush
with colour. With discretion she cocks her head
to one side to see if he is hard, but she can't
tell without letting her eyes linger to long.
'Why do you like me?' she asks 'Is it because
I'm young.'
'It's because... you're different.'
'How so? What could I possibly offer you except
youth?' she asks.
'Understanding?'
'Perhaps.'
Another drink goes down but neither of them need
it. Her cheeks blush pinker and he murmurs
things in her ear as if they were already
lovers.
'I want to take you somewhere.' He says. 'A
hotel.'
'Come outside. We'll talk outside.'
She slips off her stool and walks him outside by
the hand. Outside he takes her across to his car
and unlocks it but she does not move to get in.
Instead she kissed him, at first gently as he
leans in against her, both of their weight
against his car. He kisses her back more
violently, takes her waist in his hand and pulls
her closer to him, as if he wanted her close,
wanted to devour her but wasn't sure how. Her
hands run under his shirt, feeling the warmth of
his chest, flicking his nipples.
'Now.' She says 'I don't want to go anywhere.'
Moving his hand down from her waist he lets it
slip down into her pants. He feels the soft
warmth of her pubic hair then ventures further,
desperate to feel her. It's wet and warm and
incredible and he wants nothing more than to
bury his face in it.
He lays her on the grass beside the carpark. She
is already naked. He pulls her knees apart, she
just watches him to wait to see what he will do.
A line of kisses is drawn from her knee, he
buries his head and she is soft and sweet. A
moan escapes her lips and he realises her eyes
are closed. In response he moves faster, feels
her get wetter. He lets his tounge skip across
her clit, feeling every jolt of her body, every
squirm. There is a sudden pain in his shoulder
and he realises that she is grabbing at him, her
nails digging into his shoulders. Letting go she
lies further back and pulls her knees apart.
'Please.' She murmurs.
He obeys, gets his cock and pushes it into her,
then rests it there and lets his face rest in
the nook between her neck and shoulders for a
moment. With a deep breath he sucks in her smell
and draws his arms around her neck. Despite his
weight her hips start to move back and forth
beneath him and he surrenders to her. Everything
is intoxicating and he knows he is going to
come.
Slow down, he thinks. He can't his body forces
him to move faster and faster, thrusting into
her. She moans louder, asking for more, asking
for his cock, asking for his come. What else can
he do but give it to her? Her head tilted back,
olive eyes slightly lidded and her peach mouth
pursed. In his hands her hips feel small, she is
so light. A small groan escapes from him without
him knowing, face buried in her neck the sweet
citrus of her skin fills up his head.
It's not so bad. Maybe they will fall in
love. Bring light into each other life. Maybe
one is just what the other needed.
On the way home he listened to Radiohead. Their
conversations replayed in his head. Part of his
mind tried to analyse every word, every gesture,
a blink or a pause but was constantly
interrupted. He thought about her ass and how it
looked while she ordered a drink. He felt
himself grow hard. Oh God. You pervert, you old
man. He felt sick and every kilometre closer to
home he felt the worse for it.
In reality he would just forget her. She si a
princes without a prince. She let him use her
and know she is ruined. No good. Not good
material anymore. Really? Or is it something
more complicated?
Each time they pass in the corridor his eyes
would lay on her and follow her in a line. Then
would come the guilt, it makes him swallow hard
and his skin prickly. In his pants his cock has
gotten half hard and he detours to the men's
room.
Lily eats an orange in bed. On her lap she has
makes the patter of a flower with the peel and
places the flesh in her mouth. She is glad that
they have met.
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