Sapphic Voices General Fiction

The Evening Star

Installment One: "Sonje Enters"

Dressed in a midriff cut flannel shirt and old holey jeans, Sonje, with long locks piled high and overflowing -- took the mic. Not having been invited to do so her raspy voice spoke quickly -- until it was evident no one cared anyway, and so would not stop her. She was a face never seen and so discounted -- she began with a rhythm; a series of slaps on her thighs....

"I live to fuck" -- rippled off her tongue, garnering a look of benign interest form the bartender "I like to see the expressions of souls caving in on the faces of my victims as they fall head over heels to my come technique. Smiles fade as I leave though, for they desire attachments and I don't have time."

"They say I'm too male in my approach - that I deal with sex like a man would -- taking without regard to consequences of the heart -- they don't like it and try to argue me back into bed for more. Hell, I say -- most of the whining comes from those men I leave in a crumbled heap... You see, I don't discriminate in my yearnings."

"My gut wrenches with wanton desire and I fill it -- based on the vibes of the soul I encounter. vibes. and appearance of stamina and good health. Alone."

"My deciding criteria - the degree of prickly heat as we pass -- sweating looks that make collars cling and blouses go limp with human rain -- I fuck 'cause making love takes too much time and I don't feel the need for a symphony. Who says the chorus doesn't have its place? Seems rather popular to me -- N'est pas?"

Loud applause erupts as Sonje leaves. Javier and Milan only faintly hear the glasses they abandon on their table tinkle with ice not melted as they get up. Sonje -- scent so strong.

They go to her, for what reason - they only feel.

Cyd's e-mail address is unavailable.

Click here for a list of all of Cyd's  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.