April is the Cruelest Month -- Or Is It? Stories (New Writer Division)

[Michelle]

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April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
~T.S. Eliot

[Black Swan]

.

[kajarang]

Forget

Disclaimer and Author’s Note: My first attempt. This story contains content which may be offensive. Do not read this if you shouldn’t be or if you think you may be offended. Preceding the main story is a poem with related themes. I should like to note that I was struck by Polley’s film Away From Her. In that vain, I would ask the reader to consider that forgetting can be quite cruel. Thanks for reading. Feedback is welcome. You can reach me at MCFan@hotmail.com. Also, thanks to Michelle for the words of encouragement.



Memory

It is cold, my throat dry. I reach absent-mindedly for the glass by my side. I grasp for a while and turn to find it missing. I cannot help but wonder at its conspicuous absence. Was it not there only moments ago? I turn on the light to look at my clock. How time has passed!

I hear your voice, see your face, they haunt me. Your name touches my lips, but is gone before I can speak it. My life shapes around you. I long to worship at your feet once more. I long to relish your presence once more; I long to be yours. How I need you!

You draw me to you, and I cannot resist. Your eyes direct my gaze in their quiet fire. Your lips inviting as they part and reveal serenity with a hint of mischief, your knowing smile fills with wisdom and desire. How long has it been? I remember.

The days pass. I remember you and when first we met. I remember: when we stole away during the night. You enchant me, and I am forever yours. I remember: how much in need I am. I remember: spending my winter in despair for you. I remember: waking with a start, just as I do this night, and every other since you left. I remember.

It is spring now. It is all gone, in an instant. The days, the memories, you are all gone. I hear your voice, see your face, but they are gone. I am alone, without you. On your lips left the invitation, the promise of a perfect love. Your memory gnaws at me, eating away at my soul. I am so much in need. You send me to oblivion. You entrap me. You must show me the way out! I remember.

The flowers bloom, while this one wilts. Your song plays in my mind. Your voice stirs me. It asks for my surrender. I cannot refuse. You are my destruction. But I will never have you. I cannot. You are too good for me. I remember.

You destroy me. You lull me with your spell. I surrender to you. You make me want to forget. I lose my breath sharply. I want to cry, but I cannot. I want to return to my slumber, but cannot. I want to return to bliss, but I cannot. I remember.

You ask me if I am in need. I am so alone. You ask me, you show me the things I do not wish to see. You show me I am alone. You are no good for me. You speak to me and I stay silent. I sleep in your presence. I remember.

Your scent pours over me, a thick vapor. I am awash in you. So long as you live I am nothing before you. All is dark, I see only you. I cannot keep my head straight. I am a stranger to my own body, living another’s life. I have only you. You are bliss, and I am nothing. You are the first and perfect love. I remember.

I wake, and you are no longer by my side. I wake, and your body is no longer tight against me. I wake, my head no longer cradled in your loving arms. Your breath no longer light upon the air. So long ago…you were there. So long ago…I was yours.

How I wish I could remember! How I wish I could have you forever. Command me to sleep and I shall slip away. Command me to forget my way and I am lost. How cruel you are, and I love you so! How I wish I were at peace, when every night I am kept awake by loss of you. How I long to forget!




Forget

“You, my love, are perfect!”

Alan looked up from Kate’s embrace as she spoke. He gazed once more into her eyes, open and inviting. He, in reverie, in fantastical and unimaginable, now returns home. He speaks: “It is a shame that we must part.”

“I know, my love.”

“It is after all a wonder that we have even come together.”

“Almost absurd, my love.”

“It is a shame that we must part. Let me be with you forever!”

“This too must end, my love.”

“And you would leave me?”

Kate untangled herself from Alan. She nodded with a lump in her throat, unable to immediately respond.

“Love is a cruel mistress, isn’t it Kate?”

“I thought the saying involved fate?”

“They are both cruel.”

Kate said nothing.

“But at least I will always remember you!”

Kate smiled fully. Her face already flush from the night’s activities, she could glow no more radiant. Her eyes sparkled, and she felt an instant and intense joy. “You are too sweet to me. And at any rate, you do not mean it.”

“I mean it and a thousand times more! I will always remember you. Nothing could be worse than to forget you.”

“You are too sweet to me. But you do not mean it.”

“Let me prove it to you.”

“No.”

Alan laughed: “I am being childish aren’t I?”

“I imagine so.”

“It seems like forever ago when we met.”

“Only yesterday, my love.”

“Were we children, then?”

“Perhaps.”

“If only I had known how perfect you were for me, I would never have chosen as I did.”

“Oh?”

“It is a shame we must part.”

“I told you then, my love: We could not last forever.”

“True.”

“But you did not believe me?”

“…More like did not want to.”

They shared a mutual silence, and then Alan leaned towards her, pulling her towards his embrace. She kissed him softly, but held him from going further. She playfully swatted his chest and turned her head away.

“What’s wrong, Kate?”

“As you say, it is a shame we must part.”

“I should follow where you would go.”

“Say no more of that, my love.”

“It is so cruel, to forget.”

“You do not know.”

“So cruel, to lose everything.”

“I gave what I could.”

“As did I.”

“You are so distant, my love. Dwell not on it longer!”

Alan shifted a little to pull away from her. He folded his arms: “You are so cruel. With you, I am safe. Without you…”

“I know, my love.”

“Allow me to remember!”

Kate laughed: “You would not ask this of me, if you knew how cruel it was, to remember.”

“How cruel is it, to forget?”

“It is the worst.”

“Then allow me to remember!”

“No. You do not know, how cruel it is to remember! You do not understand…”

“When first we met, I remember.”

“What?”

“I remember…your hair, soft against the wind. I remember…your laughter in the air. You were so cruel to me. You were so cruel to tease me so.”

“I know, my love.”

“I remember wanting you. Craving you.”

“I know, my love.”

“I remember passing you by. Not a moment past, you took me then.”

“It was more than a moment.”

“I remember, you offered me your charms. I surrendered. You offered me change, for everything. I obeyed.”

“I remember, too, my love.”

“How?”

“It was not that long ago.”

“Forever!”

“Only yesterday.”

“Forever, without you.”

“You do not know.”

“Forever, without your touch, your finger upon my cheek. Forever, without your arms around me.”

“Forever, without my body, my love?”

“More!”

“You do not know how perfect you are!”

“I know!”

“No.”

“What?”

“Do you remember, why we cannot be?”

“It was only yesterday! You had to leave and I could not bear to be without you.”

“Forget it!”

“You promised me.”

“You do not know how good you are to me. You do not know how much it pains me that we must be apart.”

“You promised me everything.”

“You do not know.”

“I cannot bear to be without you.”

“I know.”

“You took me and made me yours. I could not go on.”

“You do not know.”

“You are so cruel, to make me forget.”

“I know, my love.”

“But it is really for the best?”

“You had the choice.”

“You opened your heart to me.”

“I know, my love.”

“As we lay together I could not but think of you.”

“Do not be silly.”

“I could not think of any other.”

“I know, my love.”

“You took me and transformed me.”

“I know, my love.”

“I could not think…”

“I know, my love.”

“It is a shame we must part.”

“You had the choice.”

“To go about my merry way? Or to surrender? Let you take me. Ravish me. To obey your every command. Was I not yours? You gave me everything. And now you take it away.”

“Did I?”

“Yes and a thousand times yes.”

“Then why worry, my love? Did you not get what you wanted? Did you not get what I promised?”

 “You’ve ruined me, Kate.”

“I know.”

“How can there be any other after you?”

“You will live.”

“I cannot.”

“You must.”

“Allow me once more to surrender.”

“I cannot. It is a shame we must part.”

“How can you be so perfect, if we were not meant to be?”

Kate was silent for a moment: “I do not know.”

“You made me yours. With you, I did what I could not otherwise. I did those things for you.”

“I know, my love.”

“At your beck and call.”

“You were so sweet to me.”

“I knew nothing but content. You tear me in two.”

“Which is why you must be whole.”

“So you would spare me the pain of your departure.”

“No.”

“Then do not let me forget.”

“No.”

“It is exquisite. Heart-wrenching, knowing that I will forget. It pains me even now, and it has not yet happened.”

“There are many things we must forget.”

“I remember, becoming yours.”

“No!”

“Though it was only yesterday.”

“Forever!”

“It seems like so long ago…”

“Do not be so sad, my love.”

“What reason would I be?”

“Take me in your embrace, once more, my love.”

Alan leaned in and kissed her, held her tight against him. She traced her finger delicately over his body and closed her eyes. He whispered in her ear: “How I love you Kate!”

“I know, my love. But let us dwell no further. Tomorrow I must go home. And so must you.”

Alan squeezed Kate’s hand gently as he ran his hands up and down her body and pushed into her. His muscular hands roamed her lengthy legs, soft and smooth, and he kissed her inviting nape. He pushed her thick hair away from her face as they kissed.

Kate drew a sharp breath while Alan teased her body. She unconsciously tried to stretch her legs all the way out every now and again as Alan passed over her rising and falling chest. She was panting now, and he circled over her midsection. She opened her eyes in a moment that stretched on forever and gasped once again. She cried out. And as soon as that moment had come, it passed. “You are so good to me, Alan.”

Alan said nothing, but delicately exited her.

“Alan, you know I cannot have you following me around like a pet.”

“I know.”

“It pains me so, to make you forget.”

“I want to remember.”

“And you would dwell forever on me. You must live your own life.”

“I wish I could.”

“Do you remember, when we first met? It was only yesterday.”

Alan struggled for a moment. He shook his head.

“Do you remember, how perfect you are for me?”

“You are so cruel to me, Kate! Why do you make me forget?”

“Do you remember, my love, why we can never be?”

Alan again shook his head.

“I know you are making me forget, Kate. It was only yesterday, and still I cannot remember.”

“I know, my love.”

“I long to see your face everyday. To cherish your eyes, your lips, your hair, your nose. I long to have you.”

“I know, my love.”

“Then why…”

“You must live your own life.”

“I know…I want…to be yours forever. With you I have purpose. With you…”

“No.”

“I want…you to direct me. Without you I was lost. Without you I was nothing.”

“No.”

“Because you’re leaving, I am lost.”

“Then you know why I must be so cruel.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You would be haunted every day by my memory, dying each day slowly in pain for loss of me. I would not have that for you. You are too good to me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know, my love.”

“I remember…how good you were to me.”

“For now, my love.”

“I remember…”

“Do you remember?”

“I remember how good you are for me. I remember…”

“But now, my love, you must forget.”

He obeyed.

[Chrystal Wynd]

Spring Rain

   Lord Charles Dedlande Munthe III clasped his hands behind his back and gazed through the eight-foot plate glass window of his home office. From this vantage point- the best in the Dedlande mansion- he could see the entirety of the eastern hedges and buildings. He was quite proud of those hedges. He hired only the finest gardeners to work with them. Soon the first rains of spring would come and they would grow robust once more. Nodding in satisfaction, Munthe turned from the window and looked towards the only other person in the spacious room.

   "Well, what do you think, Jacobson?"

   Jacobson was the butler. At least, that was his title. His service to one of the most powerful men in the international financial community had made him something of a legend in his own right, a reputation he was aware of but cared not a whit about. He worried about one opinion only...that of his employer, Lord Munthe.

   "If milord perhaps could be more specific...?"  replied Jacobson. He brushed a speck from his immaculate formal jacket.

   "For a moment," said Munthe, "I hoped you might split that infinitive, Jacobson."

   "I am sorry, sir," replied Jacobson in an apologetic tone. "Another time, perhaps."

   "Of course, Jacobson. Quite right. And the problem I'm referring to is that of my daughters. Specifically, which one should I leave control of my empire with?"

   Jacobson did not answer immediately. He rarely did. After a few moments he answered, "Well, milord, Miss Lilac is the eldest..."

   Munthe cut Jacobson short with a gesture. Lord Munthe could do things like that. He stood six foot four and carried himself in an aristocratic manner as if he had been born to it. As indeed he had. Munthe appeared to be approximately fifty years old and in excellent health. Tonight he was dressed fully in black- as he usually was- and he wore his splendid clothing as if he did not care how expensive they were. As indeed he did not. His salt-and-pepper hair was full and he wore it in a neat ponytail that went well past his shoulders. He had not suffered the indignity of a receding hairline despite being well over a hundred years old.

   "Age is irrelevant, Jacobson. It is ability that interests me. And all three of my daughters appear to be equally talented. That will not work. An empire cannot have three mistresses. There would be a war and that would break the foundation of everything I have built. And I won't have that. There can be only one to rule Dedlande."

   Jacobson nodded. "In that case, what aspect of character does milord consider most important to the health of the empire?"

   Munthe's granite eyes glittered. "The ability to be ruthless, Jacobson. There is no room for compassion in business. Lilac, April and Dale can be petty and bitchy, but not ruthless. Do they have it in them to make the hard choices? The ruthless choices? To be cruel?"

   Jacobson reflected for a moment. "That is difficult to say, milord. Although they have all three have reached the age of majority they are young still. Perhaps in time...?"

   "I'm a warlock, Jacobson. I probably won't die of natural causes anytime soon but I do have enemies. And if I get struck down my heir will need to step up immediately and take complete and unchallenged control. I need to make that decision now so I can begin her training immediately. So, how do we find out which of my little kittens will be the cruelest cat?"

   "A contest, milord?"

   "I beg your pardon, Jacobson?"

   "A contest, milord. Your daughters all have powers inherited from yourself and your late wife. Not exceedingly powerful individually but they do have knowledge."

   Munthe nodded. "True. The Munthe power is actually entwined in our hair, you know. One of my ancestors many generations ago was given the power from a faerie that admired her hair. But you already know that, of course. My daughters are equal in power, however. That could hardly be grounds for a contest, Jacobson."

   "Of course, milord. But the power is shared equally by the three. If one were lessened, the other two would grow in strength, would they not?"

   Munthe nodded. "That's true."

   "A contest then, milord. Whichever of your daughters appears before you on May the first with the highest level of power will be your heir. After all, to gather such power the winner will have lessened her sisters. And that would require...cruelty, milord."

   Lord Charles Dedlande Munthe III, mighty warlock and master of Dedlande, smiled. "Jacobson, what would I do without you?"

   "Dreadfully, I'm sure, milord."

   "Why don't you take off your jacket and get comfortable?"

   "I don't think I could, milord."



   I slipped into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt as I got ready to go meet Lilac and Dale to discuss the contest. They were as surprised as I was about the announcement last night that Daddy was making the winner his immediate heir. But what a contest! The winner would be the one who actually lessened the other two? Strange, but that was Daddy.

   I was so distracted that I almost didn't realize the hairbrush I grabbed didn't even belong to me. It belonged to my friend, Kaylee. I must have grabbed hers by accident when we went out last night. I sighed. If it wasn't one thing it was another. Well, it wasn't important. It was clean- no hair in it- so I went ahead and used it, then dashed out the door to meet Lilac and Dale at Lilac's cottage by the Dedlande woods.

   Although Lilac, Dale and I were close in age we weren't really close to each other. We always knew that one day we would be rivals for Daddy's property. Still, we were sisters and I was glad we were having this meeting. Perhaps we'd figure out a way for all three of us to have equal shares.
 
   I knocked on the door and heard Lilac yell, "Come in!". I opened the door and walked in. I paused for a moment as the door shut...something wasn't right. I was standing in the middle of a circle painted on the floor. There were candles lit on the northern, western, eastern and southern points of the circle. My eyes widened as I realized I was in the middle of a power circle. I spun to get out of the circle but I was too late...Lilac and Dale clapped their hands a single time in unison and my muscles locked. I could only stand helplessly and watch them as they chanted, "All the powers of Void and Limbo; Honor our spell, make April a bimbo." Each time they chanted they threw an item toward the circle that would vanish in a puff of mist. Dale had stepped forward and thrown a handful of blonde hairs that vanished into mist. "All the powers of Void and Limbo; Honor our spell, make April a bimbo." Lilac stepped forward and tossed a bra that looked to have at least double-D cups towards the circle. Poof! "All the powers of Void and Limbo; Honor our spell, make April a bimbo." Dale stepped forward and threw in a tube of bright red lipstick. And so it went through many items, each one vanishing in a puff of smoke. The smoke swirled around me and I helplessly inhaled it, filling my lungs. I became giddy and dizzy and my mind began to float. Lilac and Dale tossed in the final items- a bottle of candy apple red nail polish and a handful of black hairs that must have come from my head- and then clapped their hands in unison a final time. Then darkness.



   I woke up in my bed. I was naked. I sat up with a gasp, remembering the previous night. Then I giggled. Surely it had been a dream.

   I sat up and walked to my three-way mirror. I looked closely but I still seemed to be the same as always. Except...there was perhaps a red tinge to my lips. But my lips were slightly swelled so that could be anything, right? Though my hair...my hair was usually a lustrous black, just like my sisters', but it seemed a bit...well, dull today. I giggled. Okay, maybe I was being paranoid.
 
   I showered and went into my bedroom to get dressed. I pulled out a pair of baby blue bikini panties and slipped them on, then paused. They were horribly uncomfortable. I took them off and tried a pair of yellow panties with the same result. Then, remembering that I had seen Lilac throw some thong panties into the circle I pulled out a black thong and slipped it on. Perfectly comfortable. In fact, they were pleasantly comfortable. I felt sexy. And I knew that the previous night had indeed taken place just as I thought.

   I went back to the mirror and looked more carefully. I knew the spell well enough to know what was going to happen, and sure enough, my breasts already looked to be slightly swelled. I knew that would change over the next couple days and there likely wasn’t anything I could do about it. My whole body was going to change and I would be too dumb to do anything about it by then. I’d still have my power…my hair would still be glorious…but it would be blonde and I’d be a giggling airhead. I knew a bimbo couldn’t run Daddy’s empire. I had lost already.



   Several days passed and it was soon obvious to everyone I was changing. My hair had faded by several shades, my lips, fingernails and toenails were becoming a bright bimboey red, my hips were widening while my waist was cinching in and my breasts were swelling well past my normal B-cups into C-cup territory. I walked with a wiggle now and twirled my hair around my finger when I talked. Getting dressed was difficult…the only time I felt truly comfortable was when I was naked. I had to wear as little clothing as possible, although the right mini-skirt and tube top would leave me feeling positively perky all day. My heels were getting progressively higher and I had an incessant giggle. Daddy looked disappointed that I had been taken out so easily.

   Being around men was the worst. I realized too late that I had an *overwhelming* urge to have sex. Of any kind. It got harder and harder to resist and finally I snuck into the gardeners’ shed with a dark-haired cutie that had been trimming a hedge. Lilac and Dale had burst into laughter when they saw me leave the shed wiping my mouth. But I was beginning to realize something. I knew something they didn’t know.

   My sisters had made a mistake.

   The spell was going perfectly in every way possible except one…my intelligence was unaffected. I had every stereotypical bimbo behavior one could think of except my thoughts never got light and fluffy and I never lost sense of logic. And I was pretty sure I knew why. The component of the spell that was supposed to lock away my intelligence was my hair. They had most likely gotten that hair from my hairbrush, except it wasn’t my hairbrush. It was my friend Kaylee’s hairbrush. My sisters hadn’t known that Kaylee and I had accidentally switched hairbrushes the night before. I had an advantage and I intended to use it. And I knew exactly what I had to do.

   The hardest part was hiding my intelligence from Daddy. He was so smart and intuitive and not easy to fool at all. But I couldn’t take a chance on anybody knowing and that included Daddy. So I giggled and twirled my hair and acted as if I didn’t have a brain in my head when I was around him. Or anybody else for that matter. Not that I had a choice…the giggle and the bimbo-speak happened whether I wanted them to or not. The only one I wasn’t sure about fooling was Mr. Jacobson, the butler. He had eyes that saw *everything*.



   My hips wiggled as my five-inch heels clicked the marble walks on the way inside the mansion. I carried my shopping bags inside.

   “Why, hello, April. A little shopping, sweetie?”

   I glanced at Lilac as she made her way into the living room. I giggled. “Yep! I got the cutest thongs in the prettiest colors in the world! Yay! And look…new bras! They totally match the thongs and these bras are alllllllll double-Ds, cuz that’s what I wear now, you know?”

   Lilac chuckled at my vapid expression. “That’s good. I must admit that hot pink halter-top goes great with that mini-skirt.”

   I giggled. “Thanks, Lilac! That’s super sweet!”

   Lilac chuckled again and left, thankfully. I had been worried that she was going to check my bags. I had been shopping all right, and I had gotten thongs and bras, just like I said…but I had also gotten the components for a couple of spells I wanted to cast myself.

   I made my way to the back of the mansion, my hips swaying helplessly as I walked. I took off my heels and walked barefoot over the grassy garden to an empty storage building. I was about to enter but Jake, the dark-haired pool boy saw me and came over to say hello. He had been working without a shirt and sweat gleamed on his stomach muscles. He had just the right amount of five o’clock shadow and my belly muscles twitched in response to his presence.

   “Oh, hi, Jake!” I chirped.

   “Hi, April. What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
 
   “Ohhhhh, I don’t know…just hanging out, you know?”

   I couldn’t help it. Our conversation wasn’t exactly intellectually stimulating- neither one of us could have managed it, anyway- but his presence, his masculinity, his smell was filling me with a need I couldn’t ignore. Fortunately I still had my intelligence. I would have gladly bent over right there and let him do me but I had enough intelligence to know that I couldn’t risk getting pregnant. A pregnant witch loses her powers, which is why so few witches let themselves get knocked up. My mother let herself get pregnant because my father was a powerful warlock and rich as hell so it was worth it, but few witches will make that sacrifice.

   I still needed to satisfy my need, however, so I took Jake by the hand- the hand that wasn’t on my ass- and led him inside the storage room. I dropped to my knees and unzipped his jeans, kissing those lovely stomach muscles. My red lips were fully swelled from my sisters’ spell by now and wrapping them around Jake’s hardening cock felt so natural. I slid my tightly-wrapped lips down that shaft slowly until I felt his cock filling my throat. I looked up and saw him looking down at me, my mouth full of cock, my red lips wrapped around the base of his shaft. Then I slid my mouth back up, my tongue sliding along the underside of his cock. Soon my head was bobbing back and forth, my mass of blonde hair brushing his thighs. Too soon I felt his shaft hardening between my lips and suddenly my mouth was full of cum. I swallowed it as fast as I could, my belly filling with warmth. I felt his fingers sliding into my hair as he came, shuddering. Afterward a very happy and satisfied pool boy left the storage room.

   My brief interlude finished, I prepped the materials and cooked up my spells. They were alchemical in nature, which was more my specialty than my sisters’. I had to move fast, however; it was supposed to rain soon, the first rain of spring, and I would have only one chance to make use of it. I bottled the final products and nodded. If this didn’t work they would know I hadn’t lost my intelligence. I had one shot; I had to make the most of it.


   
   I woke up the following morning and I knew the bimbo transformation was nearly complete. My breasts had swelled to full double-Ds now. My hair was full and luscious and very very blonde. My bimbo red lips had swelled so much I now talked with a thick lisp and my fingernails and toenails were bimbo red as well. My rounded hips rolled with an exotic wiggle and my ass had become swelled as well. Every movement I made screamed “bimbo” from twirling my hair around my finger to my incessant giggle. And I wanted to suck cock in the worst way.

   Sneaking into Dale’s room the night before had been the hardest part of my plan but I had gotten in and out with Dale never stirring. Lilac would be easier, hopefully.

   Lilac was sitting on the back deck watching Jake clean the pool. The sky was darkening with the forecasted rain moving in so there would likely be no swimming today but it was always nice to look at Jake. Dale came out to join us at my invitation- I had told her I had gossip about Lilac- so the three of us entertained ourselves by watching the hot pool boy.

   “Mmmmmm, wouldn’t you like some of that?” said Lilac. She wasn’t the most subtle of us.

   Dale laughed. “Oh, if you want to risk getting pregnant, go ahead. I’d love to win our little competition.”

   Lilac smirked. “I’m on the pill, sweetie. I’m not taking any chances.” She sniffed the air. “What is that lovely smell, anyway?”

   I giggled. “Oh, that’s me! My new perfume…it’s called ‘Desire’. Isn’t it like awesome?”

   Lilac nodded, enthralled. I wasn’t surprised it caught her attention. Her saliva had been a major component of the scent.
 
   I giggled brainlessly. “Oh! You like? You want some?”

   Lilac nodded. Dale snorted.
 
   I handed Lilac the bottle. “Spray it on your boobs. It has the best effect there!” Lilac took the bottle and, glancing around, saw no one was looking and she sprayed the scent generously into her cleavage. I saw her nipples hardening almost immediately.

   I thought I had messed up. Lilac was in a glazed lust and already was pulling Jake towards her cottage. Dale saw the effect and her eyes narrowed, looking at me thoughtfully. Fortunately it started to rain then.



   Lord Charles Dedlande Munthe III clasped his hands behind his back and gazed through the eight-foot plate glass window of his home office. It was May the first and he was quite pleased with how the competition had gone. He turned and smiled at Jacobson.

   “I must say, Jacobson, your idea was quite brilliant. Brilliant! I had no idea April was so clever. And cruel!"

   Jacobson nodded a single time in acknowledgement of the compliment. “Thank you, milord. I must agree. The state of Miss Dale’s hair is unchanged, I take it?”

   “If you mean that Dale’s hair is gone, and with it her powers, you are quite right, Jacobson. The poor girl’s head is smoother than a crystal ball and apparently it’s permanent. How April managed to switch Dale’s shampoo with her spellbound replacement is beyond me but it was a capital idea. The only missing component was the first spring rain.”

   Jacobson nodded again. “And Miss Lilac?”

   Munthe chuckled. “She’s due sometime in January. I flew in the best pre-natal doctor in the country to keep an eye on her. She’ll be fine. A little humbler, perhaps, after being outsmarted by a bimbo. Apparently April’s perfume “Desire” that Lilac sprayed on her chest counter-acted her birth control pills and made her extremely fertile.” He chuckled again. “Who would have believed that girl could fool everybody like that?”

   Jacobson nodded. “Indeed, milord. Miss April is still unchanged though, is she not?”

   Munthe nodded. “You are correct again, Jacobson. The girl fooled everybody and got what she wanted because everyone underestimated her. They did that because she seemed to be a dumb bimbo socialite. It was brilliant, Jacobson! She’ll stay that way. It will also teach her self-control since she apparently has to contend with some intense urges. Besides, it will always remind her not to trust appearances.”

   “Indubitably, milord.”

   “Well, Jacobson, would you like to officially declare the winner? It was your idea, after all.”

   “Thank you, milord. Very well, then…if I could be permitted the liberty of bastardizing T.S. Eliot…?”

   “Yes, yes, please do, Jacobson.”

   “Thank you, milord. April is the cruelest Munthe for breeding Lilac out of the Dedlande by mixing mammaries and Desire after stealing Dale’s roots with spring rain.”

   “Capital, Jacobson. You have excellent vowels.”

   “Thank you, milord.”

   “Are you sure you won’t split an infinitive? Just for me?”

   “Quite sure, milord.”



EDIT: Added spaces between paragraphs.

[VirginiaPlain]

Eat The Peach


Where Amelia now lived, there was no spring. There was only a gusty winter, a few weeks of sporadic rain, and a gradual shading into an endless broiling summer. The dry desert soil and extreme heat seemed to kill anything that wasn't armed to the teeth with prickles. It was easy enough to understand why lizards liked it, but somewhat more difficult to understand why her mother had chosen to take up residence here in this dying desert town. The beating-down sun had tanned her mother's skin into hide, but she didn't seem to mind it much. "Who cares what an 80 year old lady looks like?" she used to say, "It's not as though Froggy's goin' a courtin' anytime soon. Besides, property is cheap here and I like to know all my neighbors".

Amelia had never been one for knowing the neighbors. She preferred the kind of privacy urban anonymity afforded, and was inclined to keep to herself. Her mother would always say, "but what would happen if you went missing? No one would know for DAYS!". Perhaps, but Amelia never had gone missing and considered the possibility very unlikely. Her mother seemed to labor under the delusion that she was perpetually five years old and in danger of being enticed by strangers with lollipops. Which was all the odder considering that Amelia was the one now taking care of her mother, who could no longer even get around without her wheelchair. Despite her difficulties, she insisted on continuing to run her small motel, "The Snow White Inn", just off a stretch of I-40 that had once been part of the old Route 66. It had a faux medieval village exterior and sad-looking statues of Snow White and assorted dwarfs in the front driveway. It was a tenacious holdover from the days when travelers had been snared by painted dinosaurs and signs promising cold pop and Kodak film. These days, tourists seemed to prefer the generic familiarity of the large chain motels, but despite a lot of evidence to the contrary, Amelia's mother was stubbornly attached to the idea that showy signs and "themes" would always draw a customer's eye. She was fond of singing "you gotta have a gimmick" in loud imitation Mermanesque. Maybe she was a little bit right. The few stray travelers that did stop usually were nostalgists who couldn't resist the motel's "authentic Route 66 kitsch". Adults were generally more delighted by the chipped and faded statues of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs than the children they were originally designed for. Absorbed with their cellphones and gameboys, they looked up with polite annoyance and went back to their electronics. Amelia always smiled and said "come back and see us", and she tried not to sound as robotic as she felt, but everyone knew she didn't mean it and they wouldn't.

Her mother was insistent that every woman should be independent and "paddle her own canoe", as Louisa May Alcott used to say. Amelia thought this was all well and good, but when the canoe had been sinking for years, perhaps one should consider either selling it and finding a different one or retiring from canoeing altogether. Nonetheless, when her mother started to decline, Amelia chose to stay with her and help her maintain her independence, such as it was. It was what she herself would want if it ever came to that. But the sun burned her delicate skin and the desert wind chapped it. Her fear of being trapped for the rest of her life in a prison of highway kitsch choked her like the ever-present dust. Every morning when she woke up, her throat was irritated because she'd been too stopped up to breathe. Her eyes itched and her lungs seemed as though they were always coated with a thin layer of Arizona.

She missed her former home, a small brick house in a more temperate place, with a garden she'd loved. She'd spent hours meditatively cultivating her plants, doting on them, coaxing them to grow. Her neighbors would always ask her how they grew so fast and so fragrant, thinking it was a special fertilizer, special organic soil, or maybe some kind of expensive, extraordinarily effective pesticide. They were competitive with each other when it came to yards and gardens and seemed sure she was hiding some kind of secret from them in order to beat them at their game. They never quite believed her when she told them her plants were like her children. But they were. And she missed them. Of all her babies, she missed the lilacs the most. The smell of the lilac bushes had always moved her. Every April they returned, fragrant and constant. They would only bloom for a short time, but there was never a Spring they didn't grace. They smelled like something comforting, something precious she struggled to remember and couldn't quite place. Somehow they smelled like a lover.

Her mother no longer desired one, but Amelia still did. She was an attractive woman, tall and slender. Her posture and grace were still reminiscent of a dancer's, despite having to bend down repeatedly to help lift her mother out of the wheelchair. There really weren't any viable candidates here among the handful of weatherbeaten souls determined to stay and make a life where nature didn't really want them. The few single men that lived here were either too old for her or clearly single for a reason. The only lover she could have here was in her dreams. And she did dream of one, a man with glittering crystal blue eyes that knew everything about her without her ever having to make a single confession. She met him in dreams of her old garden. He laid her down on the damp grass and caressed her cheek. He unbuttoned her shirt and coolly appraised the marble whiteness of her breasts against her black lace bra, the length of her tender neck as he gently sucked and nipped at it. She arched her back, pressing into him, reveling in the feeling of being trapped and held by his stronger body. When he kissed her she felt something foreign and intoxicating enhancing her senses and seducing her mind into a quiet dizziness. The smell of his skin literally made her weak. "This I want you to remember," he said, "the beautiful dizziness". She thought there was something else she should remember about him. Something about how unnatural it was, the way he swept into her dream and became it. He knew her vulnerabilities all too well, and it frightened her. But the lust seeping through her mind was slowly blotting it out, even as some small survival instinct fought to hang onto the memory. He smiled as if he could sense her struggle. "Oh, you should fear me, darling," he said, "but when the time comes you won't. Desire will mix with your memory and overwhelm it, just like you're being overwhelmed right now". Once he'd also told her something about bringing lilacs out of the dead land. "Here there is no water, but only rock," he said, and added with a smile, "until I tell the water to flow. Come for me, sweet, succulent girl". Her orgasm was something apart from her body, apart from time, apart from physical limitation altogether. There was no her, only a massive, melting tide of pleasure, washing up and pulling back, over and over, until she drowned.

"Here there is no water, but only rock". This was a fairly accurate description of her surroundings, although a completist would also have to include concrete, asphalt, sand and dust. Gray. Black. Brown. No white roses, no purple lilacs, not even the bright scarlets and yellows of cactus flowers. She'd gone on the internet and done some reading about gardening in the desert, despite all her better judgment and the constant fear that her mother would roll up behind her and see what she was doing. "Oh, WHAT are you doing NOW??? Who is going to pay the water bill for this? You sleeping with Warren Buffett?," her mother would say. And all the thoughts telling her she was silly and childish would be rolled up into her mother's voice, playfully swatting at the back of her neck. Still, she persisted in researching desert gardening. If nothing else, she could learn how to grow something like a garden here in the rock-filled motel courtyard. Hopefully without incurring a three-figure water bill every month. Forget lilacs. She'd be lucky to get a few flowering cacti going.

Behind the motel's front desk cheap track lighting spotlighted the mural of scenes from "Snow White", including a depiction of her biting into a bright red apple she didn't know was poisoned. Amelia wondered idly if the peach J. Alfred Prufrock had considered eating might have been poisoned too. Perhaps he wasn't having any kind of existential crisis at all. Perhaps he wasn't stultifyingly timid. Maybe he'd just been poisoned before, but the peach was just that sweet, just that juicy. Maybe the poison made it even sweeter, made the sensation of biting into it worth the sacrifice of being poisoned or, at least, made one seriously consider whether it was. A bell rang and shook her out of her reverie. Why did the front door bell have to be that loud? Probably because sitting at the front desk of a not very busy motel made one prone to odd thoughts and daydreams. Good lord, she thought, we actually have a customer, TRY to wake up here, Amelia. "Good evening," she said, "can we help you?". She smiled. The man who had walked through the door was a good deal more attractive than what she was accustomed to seeing.  His eyes were a striking crystalline blue.

"Oh, I think you can do something for me," the man said. "I was trying to remember a line from Eliot...something about mixing memory with desire".

She could hear her blood rushing through her veins and her heart beating steadily. She could feel her lungs breathing freely in and out. She was aware of being alive in a sensate body in a way she hadn't been for years. As he held her, he kissed her forehead and gently stroked her neck, over and over, the warmth of his body and the repetitive touch making her feel safe and drowsy. "Remember the beautiful dizziness, darling," he said, "remember what it was like when my voice woke you, and you drowned". She arched her neck, offering it to him, and as his teeth sank into it, she felt nothing but the pleasure and the dissolving away.

[Michelle]

Virginia, you were 47 seconds late... sorry. (I kid!! Welcome!)