Penn's Woodland by David Connor

Author:David Connor [Connor, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2019-08-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Pennsylvania

The problem with sleeping all day was that it brought on insomnia at night. I know I’d dozed and was close to certain I’d had another spell, but still I could recall every chime of the clock I could hear from the living room, if facing the right way in bed. I had tried to resist what was left of Ewan’s touch on my flesh, yet was thick again with arousal, my biological functions seemingly unattached to my conscience. With the first rays of sunlight infiltrating my tiny window through bare limbs outside the morning after, the sun not yet risen above them, I was also sweating from what would be a particularly humid day. Georgia had come early with a tray. I shed what little I wore along the way to it, in definite need of a bath and fresh breeches, and checked to see what was waiting between the up-sliding panels. The metal and glassware sent off a glimmer. There was juice, milk, and sweet tea. Georgia thought I was thirsty, it seemed. The Courier was missing several pages, including its front. This did not surprise me. My news was always censored.

I touched my face. I had not properly groomed for two days. My shaving blade was dull. Since the night of my escape at seventeen years, three hundred sixty-four days, I was used to finding the straight razor in the morning and returning it in the afternoon. Georgia had brought it to me nearly a week ago, and I’d neglected to return it, not purposefully. I didn’t think so, anyway. It needed sharpening now, was the point. I doubted it would even remove my whiskers anymore, let alone serve any other purpose. Georgia had not asked for it back, nor had she provided me with another. Apparently, she was neglectful as well.

I gulped down the milk, which would not stay fresh for long, and then the juice. I walked to the loo with my pitcher. Standing nude in the center of the room, I swallowed a generous helping of ambivalence with the tea. I was thirsty, but also regretful concerning part of last night. I had forced Ewan to go, yet as I twisted the water from the linen towel back into my basin, I pretended he could see me cleaning myself. “I like to wash up in the morning from the bowl, in the larger section of my room, Ewan, rather than be confined to the smaller, stale bath,” I explained. He asked if I minded that he watched. I told him I had hoped that he would.

Running the rag over every ridge, wetting every crevice of my body, I allowed him to take me in with his eyes, until such time as he could take me for real, to touch, to taste, or to feel me inside of him. I felt the morning air creeping in from between the sideways bricks. Some remained out entirely. I was not so vigilant last night for some reason.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.