Black Ambrosia by Elizabeth Engstrom

Author:Elizabeth Engstrom
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Valancourt Books
Published: 2019-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

21

One night went by and She didn’t contact me. Then another night, then a whole week. My emotions were so intense they were physical. I ached to see Her again; I wanted with all my being to be with Her, to laugh and watch Her, to feel Her next to me, with me, inside me, around me. I missed Her so much that I felt like hurting myself in order to outdo the pain, I felt like curling up in the corner and rocking back and forth with the ache of it.

Simultaneously, I shivered with the excitement of being free of Her. My teeth chattered and I wore heavy sweaters and bulky socks, even during the warm summer nights, and my arms and legs were always cold. I could hardly believe that I had really done it, that I had beaten that which threatened to destroy my soul.

In the back of my mind I didn’t think She would give up that easily, I thought that She had just withdrawn and was watching me, that I was fooling myself into thinking that I had even a modicum of power over Her vast personality. But I refused to dwell on those thoughts. I just wrapped the blanket of my resolve a little tighter and made yet another set of plans for my life.

Eventually the shivering stopped. My internal thermostat seemed to return to normal; I did without the blankets and sweaters. Still, my schedule was nocturnal, but that was fine—one thing at a time, and I knew that eventually this too would change.

I ventured out now and again to the convenience market for supplies, and I tried my hand at baking breads and things in my little oven. The nights stretched long before me, and I bought extra lamps to chase the darkness away from my apartment. I avoided the warping influence of the night as best I could, and each dawn, when exhausted from the effort of it, I would crawl into my box and congratulate myself on another successful night.

After several weeks had gone by and still I hadn’t heard from Her, I began to feel much better about myself; my boldness grew and I began to leave the house in the early evening and spend some time with Cap before the crowd accumulated at the Yacht Club.

He was always genuinely delighted to see me; his enthusiasm I found hard to believe at first, but I grew fond of it over time. He seemed concerned over my appearance, always discussing vitamins and the bene­fits of rare meat, and it was an odd occasion indeed when I escaped the Yacht Club without something to eat in my stomach, or at least in my pocket. My appetite was poor, there was no doubt. I baked and cooked, but one or two bites would sate me. Most of the food went to the cats, or in the case of the baked goods, to the family of rats that had moved into the spare bedroom.

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