Excerpt from UNBOWED by M.G. da Mota

 

7^th November 2014

 

Haywards Heath, West Sussex, England

 

The room was in semi-darkness but he liked it that way. Should anyone peer inside at night he or she would see nothing but a person’s silhouette. A figure with no face and moving like a ghost among the undefined shapes of the furniture.

Opening the magazine on his desk he admired her photograph. A coloured headshot clearly showing her green eyes. He liked her eyes. Two emeralds on her lovely face. He followed the shape of her mouth with his fingers. Turning the page he looked at the second image. A full size portrait picturing her in a figure-hugging royal-blue gown, flaunting her curves beautifully. She was smiling, about to bow to the audience at the end of a concert. He held the magazine carefully, then took a pair of scissors from a drawer and for a moment let them catch the faint moonlight coming through the window, as if performing a sacred ritual. Respectfully he began cutting out both pictures and then repeated the procedure with the third and final picture where she appeared in front of the orchestra while conducting. Her arms seemed to float towards the musicians like an extension of the score. She wore an elegant navy-blue trouser suit with a pearl coloured silk blouse. He preferred to see her in a dress, a long evening gown, sleeveless and slickly wrapped around her body like a second skin. She owned a variety of evening dresses but his favourite was the dark claret red, embroidered with same colour sequins. In the stage lights it literally made her shine.

For the moment he placed the photos in a desk drawer. Picking up the concert programme he sat on the couch and placed it on his lap. He opened it on the page where she’d signed it. A large group of people had been waiting for her at the stage door. He had lingered, allowing others to get ahead. As she approached the place where he stood he stepped forward, placed the programme in front of her and asked, ‘will you sign it for me, please?’ Smiling she looked him in the eyes and said kindly, ‘of course.’ Quickly she scribbled, thank you for coming to the concert, with best wishes, Alex.

It made him happy she hadn’t signed her family name of Jewel, it felt more personal. Jewel was an appropriate surname for she was a diamond, a precious jewel to be admired and loved. He didn’t much care for her first name. Alex sounded like a man’s name. She was too feminine, too radiant, too sexy for it. One day when they were together – for he knew they were destined to be together – he’d make her see Alex didn’t do her justice and she’d change it to please him. Diamondah was a better name, as she was a bright diamond. Or Esmeralda to suit her emerald green eyes. His own personal jewel.

Touching her signature he followed the letters with his indicator finger and after a while placed the programme in his safe box of treasures. Opening the drawer with the recently cut out photos he looked through all photographs, newspaper cuts and concert programmes inside. They’d find their way into the safe later. He picked up the latest photo where she wore the blue gown and placed it aside. Everything else he deposited in the safe, then returned to the sofa and put his feet up. Running his fingers over the selected photo he touched the image of her body, imagining she was in the room and he was caressing her for real, quickly becoming aroused. He held the picture with his left hand, opened his trousers with his right and began to touch himself, fantasising his fingers were her hands working him until he reached the climax and cried out her name in ecstasy.

Available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Unbowed-M-G-Mota-ebook/dp/B0D5HYBKG6/