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Eléni & M Move to Athens - Part 22

How Deep Is Our Love

By Patrick M. OhanaPublished 3 years ago 8 min read
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Photo by Theophilos Papadopoulos (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) on Flickr

This new series has its history in the form of several short stories, several poems, and a 13-part series that is linked at the bottom via Part 21 of this series. Anthi Psomiadou has graciously agreed—methinks that I did not mention it enough—to play the role of a fictional character also called, Anthi, as she already did in the first series, but in this series with the full and significant name, Anthi Kanéna. Every day is Valentine’s Day in my mind, with blue-and-white Anthi (“flowers” in Greek).

Greece is a good place to look at the moon, isn’t it? Leonard Cohen

O Anthi! Here I go again. Where is the Moon when you need it? Where are the stars? Perhaps they have all exploded and what we see is their final lights.

“Do not worry, my love! The Moon will be visible again tonight, as will be the stars, and I will be yours once more for the entire night,” Anthi replied, having heard me in her mind.

I even love your soul, Anthi. I love every one of your cells, even those hiding in your spirit.

“But you do not believe that we have souls and you heard what Goddess Athena said.”

I only believe in your soul, Anthi. I even felt it in our last dream. Well, it is what I think that I felt. You tell me, my Anthi, if it was your soul. I will believe everything that you say.

“O my M! I want you to follow your mind. What I believe is only mine. I will love you even if you believe that Earth is flat, though I know that you will never believe in something as silly as that.”

The Earth is flat, my Anthi, when you walk upon it. It is only in our dreams that I know that it is spherical like your head and each of your breasts when they are hanging over my face.

“O my M! Daytime with you is almost painful. I also want you all the time. I hope that I will be able to control myself when we return to Athens.”

I will never cause you any problems in Athens. It is only because we are in Crete and that our dreams have just begun that I am unable to control myself. How can I? Did you look at yourself in the water? In the mirror it is a given. You are to die for, my love. I cannot get over the fact. I want you in my life all the time; every day and every night. But I will never cause you any sorrow. You will decide what is best for you and I will follow.

“I know, my love. I know my M. Moi aussi je t’aime (I also love you).”

I love it when you speak in French. You almost sing the words. J’aimerais te sentir (I would love to smell you). You showed me your nakedness but I never got the chance to smell you, Anthi. I think that it will intensify our dreams.

Ce soir, alors, après my douche (This evening, then, after my shower).”

Je veux te sentir maintenant, ce beau matin, après notre nuit ensemble dans notre rêve (I want to smell you now, this beautiful morning, after our night together in our dream).

D’accord, mon amour ; j’entends personne; viens vite dans ma chambre (Agreed, my love; I hear no one; come quickly to my room)!”

I can still smell her in my lungs. I want her smell to live there, ready to be deployed with a whiff. I left her room and she followed a minute later to meet me in the kitchen for some cool water. Anthi did not feel like breakfast either. When Grandpa and Grandma came down, I kissed and hugged them, and they apparently liked it, looking at Anthi approvingly and smiling. I love them too. How can I not? They are Anthi’s grandparents and they are so nice and loving. Eléni awoke next, also kissing Grandpa and Grandma, and a few minutes later, Athena and Patrick came down, and the set was complete: one goddess and six mortals. In reality we were just four in total, but that is a story for another time.

We decided to take Grandpa and Grandma aboard the yacht for about half a tour of Crete. Captain Chloros treated them like royalty upon hearing Athena introduce them as Grandpa and Grandma. We prepared a brunch while they enjoyed the blue scenes of sea and sky with Anthi who remained with them, while I, of course, pined for her, though her smell was still in charge of my brain. I could only think of Anthi’s panties all over my face while I prepared a salade Niçoise (Nicoise salad) with Eléni. Quelle salade (What a fiction)! Athena dealt again with the meats, and Patrick prepared baked cauliflower with garlic and a heavenly mixture of spices, including smoked paprika, cayenne pepper, turmeric, black pepper, nutritional yeast, sea salt, lemon juice, and pure virgin olive oil. What a prick!

My wooden heart almost cracked when I saw Anthi again on the deck. I even asked Athena for help in her mind, but she already knew that I did not feel well. She touched my chest with her right hand and I soon felt better but even more in love with Anthi. O Anthi’s panties (a new sonnet I wrote) were perhaps the butterfly effect for my heart. Poor Anthi looked worried, as were Eléni and everyone else, but Athena came through again. What a goddess! She has a way with meat.

It was Grandpa’s and Grandma’s turn to hug me and make sure that I was back to normal. If only they knew that it was on account of my love for their granddaughter, they would have acted differently. Perhaps not. They were in love and they knew what it is like to love someone completely. I looked at the sky but the night was still far.

“It will come soon enough, my love,” Anthi whispered in my mind. “I also cannot wait to be with you again tonight.”

I kissed Eléni but could not hide Anthi from my heart. My wooden heart had new leaves with blue-and-white flowers. How deep is our love? I asked myself, looking at the water. It must be very deep and perhaps deeper than this Cretan sea.

We returned to the marina before nightfall and accompanied Grandpa and Grandma to their home. Anthi spoke to them for a moment, and all five of us returned to Athena Forever to say goodbye to Captain Chloros and take Glaukopis that flew onto Anthi’s right shoulder as soon as he saw her, looking at Athena and lowering its head. Even the little owl was in love with Anthi.

Midnight is a special time. One day becomes past and another becomes present. We loved the present, Anthi and M; me, I mean. And as soon as we fell asleep, we were together again, kissing each other as if we were apart for a year. Her smell filled me and her skin fed me. I was afraid to leave marks on her flesh, forgetting that it was a dream. At one strange point—dreams are often puzzling—I found myself between her thighs speaking to her pussy in Greek. But writing about it after the fact, I could barely repeat it and did not know what it meant. I should have asked Anthi if she remembered the words. After the conversation with her pussy, I was licking it as if it was some keto ice-cream: coconut and almonds with hints of Anthi. What a dream! I thought when I awoke, but it was still night. I went to Anthi’s room and she was still asleep. What happened? I tried to fall asleep again but I could not. I spoke to Athena’s mind, but she did not reply. I was the only one awake in the house.

Life was peaceful on the Oxford blue Greek island;

days lolling along like a chicken souvlaki;

nights going down like a tired pentozali.

The local population had recognized me

as the charitable English wordsmith magnate;

welcoming the assets that I had also brought,

absorbing my wishes to become a Cretan

like them: carefree, consumed by the love of the sea

in spite of the Sea Snake Story circulating

around the soil. I crystallized my hunger and thirst

for azure, cobalt, sapphire, cerulean

retreat from everything other than blue and green;

living the days, the months, the years that I never

had the luck or leaning to make love to freely.

...

...

I thank Anthi Psomiadou for her continued kindness and support in the form of comments, suggestions, and insightful additions that enrich this series about a couple of writers moving to Greece and finding much more than initially expected. While Goddess Athena seemed to be the main subject of this story, it is Anthi who has become the focus in every way. I am writing the story with her in mind in every paragraph and sometimes every sentence. Anthi is easily the word that I have written the most often. I am still trying to understand why it is thus. Perhaps the real Anthi may have an idea.

...

fantasy
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About the Creator

Patrick M. Ohana

A medical writer who reads and writes fiction and some nonfiction, although the latter may appear at times like the former. Most of my pieces (over 2,200) are or will be available on Shakespeare's Shoes.

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