Rainbow Reader (The Blue 2)

From Zilnic

Sitting mute for more than an hour in nothing but the complete reach and disconnection, they were both stunned on how strong the presence of accomplishment was. He sneezed. Unable to see any possible future that may top the moment she was imagining all her invisible supporters applauding the silence as result of true communication. Another round of applause was for the sick hallucination they were both part of and another one for his long neck. Just then he took a book, open it and turned the whole silence into a pause.



For the moment nobody could say if the pause was hours long or just the echo of the silence.
His voice, relaxed, deep and warm started to roll word after word, embarrassing each page as a faltering compliment. Overwhelmed by the wave of heat his reading produced, she couldn't stop thinking of energy saving patterns. She was suddenly all sweaty and above her round steamy breasts rainbows started to crowd. She imagined all the animals of his story overdosing with rainbows and tearing her breasts open in pleasures.

The imaginary audience of supporters was mute. Turned into a crowd of her own past iterations and father figures it was demanding dignity and lust, childhood moments of ripped plush giraffes and wild sex. He was calm, relaxed, detached.
The next word will bite her lower lip. Pushing phrase after phrase under her nails, followed by her eye lids and then the armpits, he was juicing her each heart beat. Soon he was digging caves under her breasts. He started from the left since there he found a black hole seed waiting, like a gas pocket, for a breath of air. His breath was perfectly controlled.
Soon the rainbows collapsed trough the thin skin and flooded the caves under the breasts. What a spectacular disaster. Hundreds of wandering animals from the book and lost souls kept in her darkness were about to be drowned in rainbow juice. Past boyfriends were the most desperate: we are just friends! they were yelling. The skin on the valleys of her breasts was getting dry and cracking like baked earth. Soon volcanoes would emerge bursting out her nipples. Rivers of ash would hug the hips and the lime green sheets of the bed would have to unveil her white legs with a tsunami, despite the attachment.
Snakes were already rolled on her ankles, sucking her blood just to make sure she doesn't explode. Between her legs a penguin marching band was helping flamingos to perform a ballet. She knew the flood was coming from within her and all the animals of the earth and several imaginary were entering her body, word by word.
It was a cold snowy day.

As charmed as she was, the Orthodox education kicked back in and she resisted the temptation to give herself over. Soon her body recalled all its cells back. He felt he was losing control. How could she? His master found his end also under the skin of a heretic, a non initiated woman, also a Balkanic one. For a second he was terrified, she wasn't listening.
Black stripes started to appear on his pants and the text of the book changed under his eyes.
"You will leave me; my heart is already too fragile. I would have loved you so much... but you are too cold. Instead of trying to win me over, be smart and let go of me. Be a gentleman. Stop calling, stop writing, just disappear. I'm not doing all this to give you the challenge you need so much. I'm just moving on. Your soul is sweet... too bad it's dry. Leave"

But his knees were all black now and soft like gum. His tongue too, all black. She turned to him, touched his face like whipping an imaginary tear from his cheek. Inside he bursts in a child cry, like when you realize for the first time that your deeds are hurting others for years to come. Soon his tears were coming down from her eyes. She was smiling... sad.

Caught in this dance of death he only hoped that the communication might work with more than words. He started to speak in his head, slowly, determined, cool, like he would have used his gift, his voice.

"Feelings are not written in words. It's an alphabet we invent and we look like argueing mutes when we try to speak our souls. Step back and see from far above. I will probably manage to leave, but we'll never be apart and while you tell me to run - i take a second and ask you to stay. Your soul is streaming through your body as light trough a prism. You mix some black among your colors and black rainbows look good only with white shirt and tie. Don't divoce the ideea of me, before i even recalculate my ego. Please, don’t be that proud... "

His face was changing while, locked in his mind, he was speaking his monologue. From a young boy with beautiful lips he shifted to a gentleman with piercing eyes. His eyes... she was just noticing for the first time... the eyes...

In front of his lost look, she lost the grip on her fears. The spell was broken.
Only his tears remained on her cheeks.
His tongue felt alive, his voice back, the knees seemed to solidify, yet still soft… his pants remained striped.
"Why are you crying?" he asked?
Hearing his voice he realized it was the only real sound in the room after he stopped reading. Was it all in his mind? If so... what is this wave of heat filling his guts?
Smiling with her eyes in tears she says:


"I love you too, freako".
"Keep reading."