1. The Cookie Man and the Sad Girl


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

    care giver, the comforter, obliged to bear pain, to remain forbidden, be the melancholy charmer as it were and get away with it?” You shift in your bed and rise a little higher, your back resting on two pillows. You allow the sheet covering you to slip below your bosom, revealing the smooth skin of your chest and your soft tender breasts, before drawing it back up. “You might be good at heart,” you say wearily, “But you’ve exoticized me too much to understand simple truth.” “Often true understanding begins with blunt fascination,” I remark holding steadfast against your deterrents to my bewildered admiration of you. You look intently into my eyes for all of three seconds, which while they last seem like an eternity, and once past seem like one of those fleeting moments whose existence one is not even sure of. You look away at one corner of the room, into mundane space which allows your mind to travel away from your immediate surroundings. I sit by patiently looking at the air around us to maintain the decency of not staring at your face. After all, there is no other place my mind would like to wander off to. “Let us go outside,” I remark at length. “What?” You say when you are finally shaken out of your reverie. “The rain has almost stopped,” I tell you, “Let’s go look at the hills.” Suddenly you climb out of your bed, entirely nude but for the shroud of secrets which cover you head to foot. I look away and hasten to bring out a set of pyjamas, the only kind of dry clothes ...
    in the cottage, from a cabinet for you. When we are outside you stare wide eyed like a child at the spectacle all around us. The sun is not yet set but it is not clearly visible through the veil of grey clouds. The green fields with long grass and the stunning hills not too far in the distance are radiant in a rare and brilliant pale yellow light. We are bathed in sunlight yet the rain persists in a thin drizzle. I don’t know how but something in you has changed. You are less distanced from your surroundings now. We walk a little away from the cottage in the direction of the hills to where the well is. It is a large well with water closer to the edge than in any well I have seen. Suddenly a large gust of wind catches us off guard, blowing your damp black hair astray and then letting them fall down and rest tighter around your neck. You shudder in the wind and draw closer to me. It is only the wind, I say to myself, she does not care for your presence. Just then, as if reading my mind, you plant a placatory peck on my cheek. For your efforts and good intentions, if for nothing else, it seemed to say. But there is something else I notice as well. Could it be? Is it merely the merriment of the nature which has infected you into coming out of your faraway sadness if only briefly? You seem happier, immersed in the present, more comfortable in the haphazard green fields and rain soaked wind than the soft bed in the cottage. It is too wet all around to sit, but you grab my hand and ...
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