She lies still on her bed, listening to the gentle buzz of the ceiling fan above her. A sort of heaviness in the air announces the onset of a late afternoon storm. She imagines cattle, gathered together at fence post corners in some far away countryside, swatting away flies with their long tails. The pervading heat seems as if it’s about to burst open, setting free the trapped cool, fresh air. Through the half-closed shutters, light sparkles on her body. Shadows whirl across her nakedness like so many tiny dervishes.
She loves the feeling of his body lightly spooning her own. His solidity. Fingers caress her soft tummy furtively, seeking approval quickly granted. She feels so far away from the concrete aspects of life. She is gliding effortlessly through the air and she remembers swinging behind her house when she was a child. How she loved going higher and higher, gaining momentum. She experiences the same sensation as the inquisitive hand explores regions whose names make her think of landscapes, small countries, floral designs. A subtle change of tempo makes her catch her breath, a sudden change of pressure makes her cry out and in a gentle spasm, all that binds her to this universe loses it’s meaning. There is only this moment. This fleeting, incredible feeling. She is so grateful to him!
But then she remembers, he isn’t there at all.