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I overheard a conversation between two men!

Until today I did not know them had never heard their names before, but the conversation Smith and Conway were having was one my ears could not help but overhear, my mind acknowledge and my imagination stir.

They were discussing good and evil! The premise being all have the capacity of both by necessity less chaos reign. There was more. However they fell into whispering and I could hear no more.

I drank my coffee, nibbled by ginger biscuits and tried to focus on the book before me and the ideas that lurked within my head.

Sometimes keen hearing is a curse! The noise around was its usual hubbub of clinking coffee cups, friendly chat, traffic beyond the large glass windows and hand holding eyes meeting looking longingly whispers of endearment.

Whispers of endearment? No! Not from Smith, certainly not from Conway. When men talk sex voices tend to get raised in volume as well as pitch leading to the furtive glances about them to see if they have been overheard before drawing closer to each other lowering their voices and continuing their conversation.

I could only pick up every other word yet still be able to read between the lines and get the gist of the conversation they were having. Which abruptly ended with Conway standing quickly and knocking his chair backwards letting out a sharp exclamation (both of which silenced the coffee shop causing more than one person to look with shocked embarrassment in their direction), he picked up his coat and stormed out.

Conversation resumed. Smith went back to sipping his drink, into my book. Yet! As I did so I looked out of the doorway Conway had just exited and found myself looking into the reflected eyes of Smith. It was a look over momentarily but it was the smile on his face that distracted my attention away from my book.

My eyes scanned the pages but could make no sense of the words. In the end I gave up, took a sip of coffee now cold and looked to the clock on the wall. Smith had gone, his leaving unnoticed, closing time was five minutes away. A polite cough beside me made me jump! I had not heard the barista beside but she confirmed what my eyes had just told me, 'We're closing in five minutes!'

I blinked and nodded dumbly, smiled weekly, my thank you strangled and strange sounding.

She smiled a smile that said weirdo louder than any words and I blushed, gathered my things and left hurriedly.

That nights dreams assailed me and I woke in a cold sweat after seeing sharp white teeth bared in a painted snarl ready to rip at my wrist, I was ready to let this beautiful creature do so as I was turned on by her faint perfumes! Long forgotten scents that I could taste if I were to just kiss her pale delicate and bloodied flesh slick with her sweat and mine.

Her voice shone in a dark light with its arousing curses her sirens voice enticing inviting encouragement to play with ghosts not yet met in games of far from innocent passions.

both of us playing with madness, saints and sinners taking turns to be good and bad neither of us waisting thoughts or words to drive the other wild.

The last thing I remember before my eyes snapped open were lips moving down, down, teasing with playful kisses, her tongue tickling, licking my chest, my abdomen, her hands came to my hips as her lips found my … eyes snapped open!

The phone was ringing.

Beside my bed.

Ringing, vibrating.

Sweat on my brow, sheets damp with strange horror as well as delicious ecstasy.



I reached over, number withheld! I answered.

Her voice, 'Come to the window!' Click. Line quiet. Room quiet. Night quiet.

My breathing heavy.

Her voice? I frowned. Come to the window!

In my nakedness I climbed out of bed. Walked to a wardrobe reached in and pulled out a towel. I was soaked. Cold, ready to shiver. I dried my self and looked over to the curtains pulled tightly together. Moonlight and street light combined creeping in around their edges.

Her voice, come to the window.

Come to the window.





Her voice.

I dropped the towel and walked autonomous over to them, pulled open the curtains leaned both hands on the window sill looking out into a night where nobody was there.

The street was empty.

I looked up on way, back down the other. No one! Nothing.

Just the night and a strange dream.

The phone didn't ring. That was just my imagination.

Couldn't have rung. It was late. I was dreaming.

I shook my head, closed the curtains.

Turned to go back to bed.

Took a step only to be blinded momentarily by the bedside lamp. Blinking half blinded I stared at the shape, her shape, that now lay on my bed.

I knew it was her by the sound of her voice!

'Hello, lover!'

My heart beat fast.

All I could think of was the look on someone else's face and being able to tell the difference right then and there between good and evil.

Who was which?

I smile.

Heard her laugh.

The light went out.