“Yes, sir… I never should have…”
The storm has left his eyes, and in its place there is the compassion that I felt from him the night we first met. The same authority. Even the lust. All there, intact. And here I go, quivering with desire.
However, the harder man resumes his reading. I feel extraneous and unwanted, and following his suggestion, I quickly make myself a sandwich and head upstairs to the small bedroom where I intend to stay.
It’s not yet eight o’clock on this new day and already I’ve harangued the master I’m supposed to bow to and been ordered, at least figuratively, to pack my bags. I’ve also lost an anchor, lost my way, and have no idea how to repair what I’ve damaged, or if I want to bother in the first place.
***
Journal
Subject: Marlena Lucci
Occasion: Rant
Worse
