tchalla811

I am feeling a little vain tonight and have a few questions for those of you reading this journal entry. For those who have received comments on the words or images they have put up on DA do you have a favorite comment on your work? Has a Watcher said something good and memorable about your work? Since I am asking the question I will also answer it to, but later. I usual write comments about each of the images or words I put in my Favorites and regularly comment on the works of people I watch. I look forward to hearing from the readers.

What would you say if you could only say three words?

Jerald stared into space while toying with the fork on the table in front of him. He was only partially aware of the growing crowd of people in the restaurant. He was seated at a table for two in the rear of the room under the half canopy. Bloated black bellied clouds flowed across the sky. Sunlight faded in and out. A storm was on its way.
      Why'd she call me this morning? He thought. She knows that Friday's my busiest day of the week. I should be in the lab.
     He pressed the Timer display button on his calculator watch. It flashed 45 minutes, 17 seconds. Releasing the button, the actual hour appeared, 12:17. I hope the new technician they sent me can follow directions better than the last idiot they sent can. I don't have time to design experiments, carry them out, collect data, and teach my classes. Next year they promise me a graduate student.
     He looked at his watch again. 12:19.
     "I shouldn't have come," he said, finally putting the fork down. "I wouldn't have come if she hadn't been so damn insistent. I'll give her until 12:30."
     At that moment he saw his wife enter the room.
     "Late as usual, Toni," Jerald said helping her with her chair.
     "Hello to you too, dear husband," she replied coolly. "I take it you haven't ordered yet."
     "Of course not. Can we make this quick? I have to be back in my lab by 1:30."
     "What! No kiss? No gracious pleasantries?" Toni asked. "Your coldness seems to grow worse every time we meet."
     "We can fix that by not meeting so often," he said staring at her indifferently.
     "You'd like that too much, so just forget it."
     "The reason for this meeting, please."
     "I've got a very special surprise for you." A wicked smile formed on her face. "I'm going to have a baby."
     "So," he said flatly.
     "You're my husband. Aren't you going to say more than that?"
     "We haven't slept together in 6 months. I'm a husband in name only."
     "You're right about that." She took out a cigarette and motioned for a light. A waiter came to the table, lit her cigarette, and took their order.
     "I'll have a Vodka on the Rocks." She smiled at the waiter.
     "I'll just have herbal tea." Jerald stared out of the
window until the waiter left. "Drinking is as bad as smoking."
     "Are you starting to show some concern for me and our baby?"
She took a long draw on the cigarette. "Or are you about to launch into one of your lectures on the evils of strong drink and tobacco?"
     "I'm not the father of YOUR baby," he replied quietly. The corners of his mouth were tightening.
     "You're right again, my dear husband, but you are my husband and if you are not the father, then legally I'm bringing a bastard into the world." She tried to look as innocent as possible. "I don't think it will do your precious little career any good to have your name in the paper over this little matter.  As an Associate Professor of a prestigious university like Johns Hopkins, we know how important a reputation is. What do you think you colleagues would say? I don't think you'd come out too well."
     The blood drained from his face. Jerald turned and stared out the window again. The sun was completely hidden behind the storm clouds. During the last few moments it had begun to rain.  The wind was beginning to pick up, too.
     He did not move until the waiter had come with the drinks and left.
     "I hate your motherfucking guts." His voice was low, almost guttural.
     "You know that the feeling is mutual," she said, after tasting her drink.
     "You could have done this over the phone or in private." He looked at the people around them.
     "The telephone isn't as personal as face to face."  She smashed out her cigarette.  "And I much prefer meeting you in a nice public place. I know that you won't go freaky around so many people. I don't think I'd be so safe with you alone."
     "You're a sick woman."
     "I am sick, Jerald," admitted Toni. "I'm sick of this pointless marriage. I'm sick of Baltimore. I'm sick of your prim and proper little world." She gulped down the rest of her drink. "Now, I have just two more things to say to you. First, will you give me a divorce?"
     Jerald stared at her. She did not look familiar. The face he'd known so well was not there. The beautiful face he had used to reflect private success to other men was still there. But the face of his obedient and passive wife was gone.
     "Yes."
     "Good. That's what I wanted to hear from you." She smiled as she stood up. "The other think I wanted to say to you was April Fools. I haven't even begun to fuck up your life, my Dear."

Spooning by J.J. Floyd

Warmth.  I know I am awake when I realize I am enveloped in warmth and softness.  Flannel sheets.  One of the best things ever made, especially in the winter.
There is a soft brown glow behind my closed eyes.  When I turn my head to the left the color jumps to bright red.  I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away from the shaft of morning sunlight which catches the corner of the bed.
Cautiously I peek through one eye.  It takes a few moments to focus, but I smile at what I see.  It is you.  It is a rare thing for the two of us to wake up in bed together.  We keep such opposing schedules that routinely you go to bed hours before me and get up before me.
I lift the heavy covers and slide my naked body closer to yours.  You are on your side.  I gently press into you, my chest and stomach against your back, the fronts of my legs against the backs of yours, my groin against your butt, and my face in your hair.  I drape an arm across you.
You moan softly and press back into me.  I nuzzle my face into your hair and begin to stroke your thigh. Your muscles tighten and then loosen under my touch.  Slowly my hand moves upward. I tilt my head and press my lips to your neck and taste your skin.  You moan louder as my fingers casually caress your breast.  The nipple stiffens as I pinch it between two fingers.
My breath quickens.  I am so aroused by the touch of your skin, your moans and the taste of your skin.  I know you can feel my arousal between us.
You begin to turn to face me when the bedroom door swings open.  Montesida, one of our 9 year old twin daughters, stands there with a rag doll in one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other.

"I had a bad dream," she says softly, "can I get into bed with you?"

We are frozen in place for a heartbeat and then another.

"Of course," you say.

I withdraw my hand from your breast reluctantly and slide away from you.  You lift the heavy blanket and Monte' climbs in bed beside you.  She immediately molds her body against you as I was only moments before.
Monte' chatters away.  I lean forward and press my lips to your ear and whisper, "Later," and kiss your ear.