Typewriters in Heaven?

I’ve been sucked into the world of quizzes on facebook. It’s such an amusing way to pass/waste time. I love reading the results of friends and finding out my own, no matter how silly they sound. My favorite ones to take are ones like “what mythical creature would you be?” or “what is your super power?” I probably put more thought into my answers than most people, taking time to study each question and determine what I would actually choose. One recurring question is “If you could choose one super-human ability what would it be?” After much deliberation I decided I would choose immortality. To see the ages pass and the world change for both good and bad would be incredible. Imagine the friends you would make, the love you would share and the knowledge you could obtain and pass on.

I already know I won’t ever accomplish all the things I want to learn and do in this lifetime, there are far too many. Of course who is to say I didn’t do some of them in past lives, if there is such a thing… I like to think there is. To me nothing is sexier than knowledge, but keeping my looks over hundreds of years would be a bonus as well. Oh, the stories I could write!

That being said I’m not afraid of death, at all. I’m afraid of dying too soon but whenever my time comes I hope I handle it gracefully. I have many people and pets I would love to see again on the other side and hopefully God knows me well enough that there will be a writing desk waiting for me in Heaven. I’m pretty sure my passion to write won’t cease even in death.

 

His Mistress

His mouth was warm and welcoming. His arms were exactly where I wanted to be. He smelled of expensive cologne and faintly of cigarettes. It was a habit he tried to hide from me. I was always telling him how bad it was for him but secretly I loved the way he smelled.

His kiss tonight tasted like beer. He had been drinking with his friends before he called me. It was a dark beer probably a stout. It lingered on his lips and tongue and I knew he was still buzzing a little. He pulled me up and kissed me hard. My neck would hurt tomorrow he was so much taller than me. It was worth it, it never failed to make me weak in the knees, literally. The first time he kissed me I stumbled walking back to my car.He still made me feel the same as when I was that seventeen year old girl with a crush on the older man. I was far from seventeen now but I’d never been able to resist him. My kryptonite.

I don’t know his hobbies or where he grew up. Hell I don’t even know if he has siblings. But if he calls I come. He has a strange power over me. Part of me is jealous of his other life but part of me is happy he still thinks of me. It goes against my feminist side but I can’t convince myself to care.

“Hey sexy”, I say after the kiss. I breathe in his scent and know it will linger on my jacket for a week or two after he’s gone. He’s gone so much. Tears sting my eyes and I do my best not to let them show. It’s silly to love someone you know nothing about. But I do. Something in me remembers a time not of this century of me in a ball gown and him in uniform dancing at a ball then saying our goodbyes. A past life perhaps? Maybe that would explain my deep infatuation.

It doesn’t matter now. Tonight I’ll let him kiss me and bed me and I’ll be his for a short while. He has many mistresses I’m certain. Even his wife is a mistress compared to his love of the sea. For now we will take a pause in time where words don’t matter and his touch is all I’ve longed for since I last saw him. The laws of love will blur and I will turn a blind eye to the sins I commit. Because it could be the last time, and if it’s not I can’t help but do it again.