1. The Cookie Man and the Sad Girl


    Date: 10/10/2015, Categories: Love Stories, Author: Cyberwalker, Rating: 1, Source: LushStories

    To you who are sleeping on the train, unknown, untamed, unclaimed, untouched but by the pain that lingered on your sleeping lips as you sit by the window and the rain, to you I write these words so you may suffer them, as I have suffered your sad beauty. While you sleep alone, I dream awake... When the walls of our train have vanished and we have been abandoned in this green valley in the rain, you will find comfort in my presence. Below the chain of hills to the east is a small wooden cottage built for broken wanderers. When I have taken you there, sad still yet more awake, you are soaked as completely in the rain as I am in you. You send me out of your small bedroom with a window to the hills, out to the kitchen, so that you may rid yourself of your sodden clothes in seclusion. When you sink your damp body limply into your delicate mattress do not hesitate to forget me if only briefly; I am happy in the kitchen justified by your existence, warmed by being in the neighbourhood of your presence. I dare not try to describe why you have affected me the way you have. In any case, you are the only one who matter greatly, and you must already know. When you have awakened, I am ready with my Darjeeling tea and warm cookies. Do not ask me where I have gotten such simple delicacies in the middle of nowhere. I have my little magic just as you have your wizardry. You take my little offering curled up in your bed, the sheets carelessly wrapped around your naked body. As we sip the hot ...
    tea together in silence, you stare out of the window. It is still raining, but the clouds have diminished and the light has changed. The late sun of the fading summer has spread a warm yellow glow all over the valley and the green hills beyond. I walk to the window and open it, letting in a cool gust of rain soaked wind and turn to you. You nod to show your approval and shift to a position of greater comfort on your bed. As you do so, the pink nipple on your small left breast peeks unmindfully out of its cover. You do not bother. I return to my seat on the wooden chair by your bed. “There are cookie crumbs on your lips,” you suddenly observe with a smile. I wipe my mouth and smile stupidly at you refraining desperately from saying all the cheesy and sincere sentences flooding my brain. After a few minutes have passed you look at me and demand, “Why have you brought me here?” “To hide myself in you,” I reply, “But also to take away all your sorrow and show you that you don’t have to suffer the isolation of being the only magical creature in the universe. If I can’t take away your pain, at least I want to succeed in sinking myself to the very depths of your melancholy and share it with you. If not to relive you then at least to save myself.” You break out in laughter, “Where did you learn to talk like that cookie man? You’re sweet but you lie without knowing.” “I’m not lying,” I tell you, “Did you really think you’d always be the self-sacrificing girl, the protective woman, the ...
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