Saturday, July 03, 2021

To water (a short story)

While making love they would feed each other strawberries, biscuits and water. Lots of water. The risk of dehydration was real and in the few months they had been together he had had to see a doctor twice for various types of 'wear'. They hardly slept at all and eating was mostly done - as said - 'during'.

Of course there was work. He had the advantage of a fairly quiet office job. Boiled eggs were cheap in the cafeteria and walking three flights of stairs was beneficial to his health. And somehow he always found the energy to please her right after coming home.

His coat still on he put the potatoes that she peeled on the stove. Meanwhile she set four fresh glasses of water on the second-hand bedside table. She knew from experience that they wouldn't take the time for a refill after drinking two of them.

In the meantime he had laid his coat over the back of a chair and was taking off his shoes sitting on the foot of the sofa bed. He could feel her hot breath in his neck. Literally. Shortly followed by her teeth.

An hour and a half later he only got up to go to the kitchen. To turn off the stove underneath the burnt potatoes and to open a window because of the black smoke that had filled the room. 


And to refill the four glasses of water.

He didn't want to admit it then but he was addicted. And not to water.

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Want to read (more of) my short stories? My author page: Terrence Weijnschenk at Amazon

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