The Angel's Share by Satyajit Sarna

Author:Satyajit Sarna
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

the chemicals between us

Bush/The Science of Things/1999

You can sense a break-up coming like you can smell winter on the wind. Suddenly, it becomes only a matter of time. The sense of decay works itself into every thought. There’s the extra consideration when you’re making plans, when you’re booking tickets – how long will this go on?

Jennifer and I broke up on a summer afternoon at the end of third year. The sort of afternoon where the sun has been shining so long that every surface radiates heat. The silence built up like sand falling grain by grain through an hourglass.

‘You love me,’ she said, ‘but you don’t love me enough to be with me.’

I said nothing; there wasn’t enough to scrape together for speech. Her face was flat as a wall, her eyes expressionless leaning towards contempt. But her fingers clenched and unclenched, crumpling the grass around her. The silence had built up into a little pile that came up to my knees.

‘I don’t understand. What went wrong? You got bored, didn’t you?’

Silence. Silence. I looked away. Silence.

‘Don’t expect me to wait for you. I like having someone in my life. I love you, Zorawar, but you’re not so special that no one else will ever mean anything to me.’

The gauntlet. I left it on the floor. The clock of my silence was still running.

If I had said anything then, I would have saved what we had. Why did I not? Why did I walk out on Jennifer then? Was it because I didn’t enjoy her company? No. Was it because she didn’t get me, or we didn’t have enough in common? Far from it.

I walked because I wanted to feel novelty again. My eyes turned for a dozen women a day. I longed to see them all naked, to feel their lips on my neck, to feel their nipples hard against my chest. To feel the feeling I had felt with her when we first made love. I felt like a clock was ticking somewhere and I needed to do more people in the time I had.

One night, not two weeks after we had broken up, I was at a quad party. The sweat had soaked through my shirt and I could feel it cling to the skin on my back. Here I was doing what I had wanted to all along, hunting pussy. There’s an art to scouting the dance floor for prey. Never hunt girls dancing with guys. Never hunt girls in circles of girls – a red light hangs above them. Hunt girls who hang around and don’t look like they belong; or are in groups of mixed friends; or may have dressed up a bit. Hunt girls whose eyes are searching, as yours are.

And sometimes you are the prey.

I felt her approach me from behind. Turning, I was lost in the hair, her palm against my belly. Feeling her hip brush my crotch. What happens then is a Discovery documentary. The male animal is aroused but watchful; he scents the air for trouble.

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.