'Simply Angelic'

A story of a man who is infatuated by a woman whom he fears will only be cold & unwelcoming. However, she may just warm up to him.

'Simply Angelic'

She was beautiful; simply angelic.

In my line of work, I see lots of different people in & out of the door. Everybody comes here: popular politicians of congressional importance, old ladies in Sunday dresses, fashionable teenagers in the prime of youth, middle-aged men with thinning gray hair & full beards, & even young children not yet old enough to ride a bicycle or tie their own shoes. All of them come here, but she was the first that held my glance so strongly.

She was a young & pretty thing being maybe 25 or 26 at the oldest. Her silky black dress clung to her like a serpent coiled around a vine. Her auburn tresses were the color of decaying maple leaves on the last stretch of fall. She was a small girl, but held more beauty than the tallest of redwoods and the highest peaks of the Rockies. At first I could not capture the color of her eyes, for she was surrounded by a company of what I assume were friends & relatives. But I knew that whatever shade her soul windows were, they had to be the most vibrant, radiant, & awe-inspiring hue of whatever color happened to grace them.

She was beautiful; simply angelic.

Now I've never claimed to be the most courageous man, but I knew if I did not at least muster the courage to approach her; I would regret it forever. Sheepishly, I waited until her companions withdrew to some other corner of the room, & she was alone. I quietly approached her with my nerves in a frenzy & my stomach at the mercy of sailors tying together the last remnants of a mast. My blood pumped swift as I now stood close peering in her general direction. With a slight adjustment, I noticed, for the first time, her eyes. Green they were, the two emeralds striking up at me with the majesty of the fair city of Oz & the ferocity of the tropic leaves of the Caribbean.

She was beautiful; simply angelic.

Our gazes met & now was the time to act. It all happened so spontaneously though. I barely had made an introduction before we were off in search of a room to be alone together. But I knew my way around the place; I knew the perfect spot. My hands opened the wide, steel doors for her & we hastily rushed inside. The room was warm & a fire burned silently creaking in the background. The light reflected marvelously in the auburn of her hair & in the green of her eyes. A halo dimmed around her shadow & the crimson red brought alive her features in ways I had not yet seen.

She was beautiful; simply angelic.

This was the light to make love under. A heavenly glow illuminated the room as we embraced near the fire. Her black dress, which had once gripped at her snug, slipped off effortlessly at my touch. Her smooth, pale flesh accenting my nakedness with the feeling of a thousand soldier sprites standing at attention upon the surface of my skin. I penetrated the very core of her being & thrusted with the might of my very soul. The love we made echoed in the room with a rhythm to which the licking of the flames played its theme. The moans I perceived undistinguishable, but this was the feeling of true love, the divine trinity, & all of the golden choirs in Heaven singing. I could feel it coming; the climax to this most holiest of moments. At my orgasm's peak & with a last passionate thrust, I plunged my lover into the furnace.

She was beautiful; simply angelic.

As my eyes gazed widely upon her & the sound of her smooth flesh being whipped by the pyre muffled my ears, I felt like a man. I felt like the gods of old descending upon Mount Olympus in royal & divine glory. My hands shaking, my body glistening with burning sweat; I watched my love turn to ash. Quickly, I found my clothes and hurriedly put them on. I gave her garments to the fire. As I left the crematorium, I felt a slight pain in my chest. Was this what heartbreak felt like? I had never known. I looked up and noticed the sun had begun to settle in the west. It was time to go home - work starts early in the morning at the funeral home. I got into my car, turned on the engine, and shut my eyes for a few moments. She was still there within my vision.

She was beautiful; simply angelic.

For she was an Angel in Heaven, & her vessel was ripe for the taking.

fiction
Read next: Run Necromancer
Ronald G. Berklee

I write things sometimes, and so I ended up here. 

See all posts by Ronald G. Berklee