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Saturday, 19 August 2017

[Short Story] A Girl Of The Water


She was a girl of the city. Her parents died five years after birth. Her birth was almost still. She had no mother, no father, nobody.
It was a beach unknown for its naturally magical powers. It was not believed that it was once an exposed mass grave for millions of corpses turned into carrions for the birds of patience. The beach left no trace of that historical incident behind.
It is strange that all of humanity did not know her as a little girl. She would come to the beach frequently and drink its water. From there, a strong communion between her and the water was made.
She grew graciously into a voluptuously and sensuously shaped lady. She loved the water, drank from it, ate from it. A hundred years old, and the water still kept her young. The water gave her life. She was a hundred years young: the unmistakably soft provocative curve of her hips, her long lean lovely pair of legs, the sweetly sensuous swell of her two beautifully beguiling breasts, her amorous arms, her terrific torso and her foxy face all covered with shiny sorrel skin.
The water took possession of her. She would run to it and it would envelope her in an embrace that took her breath away. It caressed every part of her body. She moaned in pure ecstasy as it covered her in its cathartic caress, in its majestic mystery of love. She screamed in pleasure as it slapped her between her legs. Afterwards, she stepped out of the water and lay sideways on its muddy bank, facing the water, thoroughly satisfied and still wet underneath her.
He could no longer resist her. This was his third day at the isolated beach, watching her in her unusual pornotopia. He could no longer suppress his awesome urge, and if he did not have her now, he was sure to explode. He caressed his swollen manhood and then stormed towards her. In blind fury, he tore off his clothes, mounted her and tore into her. She made no sound. Her eyes were closed. After a rather blissful climax, he laid beside her, panting intermittently with satisfaction. After a moment, he turned to her and touched her chin. She looked lifeless. Oh God, she’s dead, he thought. He took a quick suspicious look round the beach, quickly wore his dresses and left the beach in quick steps.
A moment after the beach was once again deserted, tiny tears came out of her eyes and walked towards the water, carrying vengeance to the sea. The water kindly washed away the blood on her laps. She was defiled.
She got up and resided in the soul of every man. In every man, there is a girl. In every man there is the girl, haunting, watching, torturing, once the eyes are closed for sleep. Even unto death in the grave. She arose and lived inside everyone. The girl is in everyone. The girl is with us. The girl is amongst us. All of humanity did not know her and she lived amongst all of humanity. She lives in us. She lives with us. She is with us. She is in us. All of us. To haunt us. To please us. To care for us. To hurt us. To kill us. To save us. To guide us. To deceive us. She is just there. She has always been there. We cried to the water, and the water rejected our tears. Our tears were unmixable.