~ a story ~
I cooed at my mother once to get her to give me coin. I cooed at my father to let me slip out at night.
But this night would be different.
I cooed at the fare coach driver to give me free passage. I cooed at his passengers to forget they ever saw me.
I arrived at the professor's doorstep late, long past when others had started their slumber. I weighed whether my gamble would be worth my efforts. I was too far gone to stop now, but still I thought my game might be a mistake.
When I knocked on his door, the lights in his dwelling remained dim. It took my insistent banging to rouse him. He saw me through the glass and puzzlement filled his face.
"Evalyn, why do come here at this late hour?"
"You love me," I sang. "More than any other. You will love my body tonight as you have none other."
He swung his doors wide, scooped me up, and ascended his grand staircase to his bedroom. When he kicked open the door, his wife shot up with a start.
"You will leave," I sang. "Come here no more. You love resides in the holy chore."
She stood and walked as if gliding on air, quietly leaving her home, closing the front doors behind her like any holy woman would.
He threw my body onto his bed, ripped open my garments, and feasted upon my flesh til the morning. He told me he loved me and he took of my body in ways I never knew could feel so good. I sang back my love in dulcet notes and enjoyed his flesh still more.
And warmth waves pulsed throughout my frame, and I trembled at the professor's touch, I thanked whatever creator their was for my gift. For a moment, I wondered if I was some sort of a god. But then I remembered the boy, and how easily my melody could break apart.
I took of the professor's flesh twice more before slipping out in the early light hours.
When he awoke the next morning, no wife to speak of, and no evidence as to why she was gone, all the county dwellings were in an uproar.
I remained quiet as I had before, my game giving me more than I had hoped for.
The Immigrant "Invasion" Is Just WMDs All Over Again
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There is no immigrant invasion at the southern border of the United States.
That needs to be said at the outset any time you wanna talk about What's
Wron...
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