My true Luna

RHETT

She turned to me, her eyes red with prolonged mourning of her dear friend, who was my dear love, but I wonder people get so concerned with mourning the demise of others than it is necessary.

“Laura.” I took up a saddened voice, and she approached me and buried herself in my hug, sobbing into my chest, giving me the pleasurable warmth of her breath and her sob.

I imagined her breathing this warmth of hers into my nostrils, while we engage in a deep French kiss on my bed in a cozy night and in a calm morning.

I caressed her back, pretending to sob along, and forcing tears to well up in my eyes.

Fake tear, I bet no one the universe can create such more than I do. I can force as much tears as the crocodiles in swamps and lakes, and I can sob and wail in pretence, more the wives of a polygamist who had met his earthly demise.

“I couldn’t help her…I couldn’t help her when she needed me the most.” Even her sob and her wailing were so alluring, rousing my nerves and making me wail even