HENRY'S WIFE

by SSMoses

© 1999 by the author (ssmoses@yahoo.com) All Rights Reserved

 

Sinking into blue velvet, Henry slumbers with his wife. His trembling hands fondle her breasts one last time, trying to stir the memories of happier times. He kisses her pale lips, warming her with his tongue. Will she ever awake and give him compensation for his many years of loyalty and devotion?

 
His rigid sex remembers. Her memory beckons him with unyielding embraces and cold caresses. He whispers her name like an ancient prayer. A prayer for the living. A prayer for the dead. Henry spills his seeds upon her barren wasteland.
 
Already, life without her seems empty and unfulfilling under the sun's blue shadow. He rises from her coffin and opens the bedroom window. The city outside is overripe and smells of decay. He must continue his life alone in a world slowly rotting away and sinking into oblivion.
 
 

© 1999 SSMoses (ssmoses@yahoo.com)

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