Please drop by N. N. Light’s fabulous Mini Mystery event. Tune in on Sunday August 15 at 6 am to enjoy a taste of The Pit and the Passion: Murder at the Ghost Hotel. I have a delightful excerpt wherein we find the Ghost.
https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com/mystery-and-suspense-bookish-event
She had watched the men running
At
She had pursed her lips at their
Palpable fear
Women frown at the sexual contradiction, the beast chasing
the man
At least the ones who are tired of sex.
Those who still warm to a touch on a nipple
Sigh
And accept both the beast and the man.
Zelda took a shower in the middle of the afternoon
She had dreamed of making love in the heat behind the shades
Of a fan-driven hotel in Merida.
It was only a dream.
Even so, trickles of sweat formed between her thighs and at
the small of her back as she
Remembered the dream
She ordered a martini and took it to the balcony
To watch the bulls.
She remembers
Slow dancing before the mirror in
her
Atelier.
She holds the negligee before her
like a shield
That will protect her from the
truth.
She was in a room
In a pension and
Her lover
Had faded off like the line in a
divided highway
At night
As the
Battery died.
No need to put the negligee on
No one there
Pop pop
Little popping sounds of
rain on my windowsill
Keep me company
Along with Otis.
Otis takes care of me when Zelda is away.
His face is very demonstrative
When I’m being stupid his mouth turns down and his eyes are
cold
When I use my brain to better advantage he grins
It took me ages to realize that one side of his china face
goes down and the other up
Which is a blessing because now
Depending on my mood
I can turn him and
receive
Confirmation.
Zelda has been gone about a year.
She left to avoid watching me slowly pass away it’s
Not like her to give up but I was immoveable
On the barstool
A feast of agony
Gorging on pain
Awash in cocktail seas
I ate nothing but salt and
Drank nothing but whiskey
For days, or was it months?
And still I berate my fate as though she were here to listen
As though the bar were still open
As though I were still alive.
The wet sand the brown sand
The white sand and now the inundating black sand
Rougher,
coarser, empty of shells
The clear
water the water filled with plankton and small fish roiling
The water
The
shells
Usually
cats paws and scallops not so many turkey wings
Now
The blue
heron the cloud of ibis the
Occasional
skimmer scooping the tide
The
plover eyes alight eyes afright
As I walk
past stepping carefully between
Sharp
objects.
This is
my other world
My
Florida. Once my refuge
Now I
look unseeing at the pelican cruising my waters I
Stare at
the ocean unaware of the dolphin
I stare
at the ground wishing
For
release.
Thus is
my love wasted.
