Temptation & Fidelity
January 1, 2013
In truth. There is a school teacher that I like very much. Whenever I see her, its difficult to resist the temptation of ripping off her clothes. Somewhere in my mind, at least. It would be easier for me, much easier, if she doesn’t give me such a strong come on all the time. She probably wants it as bad as me. Perhaps even more.
When I accidentally brushed against the inside of her arm when we passed each other just then – I could tell just from the way she looked at me…..that I wanted her? That shouldn’t come as a surprise. Not at all. I’ve been without a woman for 5 long years. Lately I feel the crushing weight of loneliness on my shoulders as never before. Feel it like I can even taste it the water that I drink and how it imparts a strange metallic taste. Sensed it in the desolation of my early morning walks in my estate. Seen it many a time during my frequent hunts as it lurks in darkened interiors beneath the every swaying canopy of palms. This crushing sense of loneliness is always with me sharpening my sense of desolation. Loneliness is everywhere. Loneliness seems to have even permeated the marrow of my bones.
Perhaps it due to despair. I have been working on a prototype to separate oil from palm bunches. Something is either wrong with my calculations or assumptions. It’s supposed to work. But no sooner as it’s powered up, the whole mechanism mucks up. It’s so frustrating and I have just had enough of it. I feel like throwing it out, pouring petrol over it and setting alight as I dance around it like a mad man! But it gnaws at me. It calls me even in the dead of night and there I am again…everything mulling through my assumptions….nursing whatever little I still have to somehow get through the thick and syrupy night.
My thoughts turn to the school teacher again who seems happiest to be looking at me across the room with her head slightly tilted. I like her full hips and the way she pushes out her top. I like the slutty looks she gives me – “I want you to fuck me.” from time to time, I look at her longer than I should. I tell myself. I should be careful. Someone may notice. But all I really want to do is fuck her!
How strange is it that so much can be conveyed by just a look. An expression that seems almost to be able to compress whole meanings by themselves to render the idea of speech so meaningless that it might as well not have existed at all.
But there it was. I saw it all in that one moment when I brushed against her. I saw the way her chest swelled suddenly when our eyes met. The rush of expectancy that flashed across her face like a brilliant light cast against a face of possibilities who simply knew that life would never be the same again after tonight. I knew from just the look of the world’s most beautiful school teacher, she had crossed a line somewhere in her head. Crossed over to the dark side where she had even whispered to me with her liquid eyes of desire “fuck me.” – “what are you waiting for? Can you see I want you to fuck me!”
Suddenly, I thought about my wife and kids.And walked right out into darkness of the cool night. I felt ashamed. I felt defeated. I went back home and worked on my oil palm processing centrifuge.
It was late.
“I think about my wife and children often. But it has been nearly five long years. In this period of time all that I have really known is crushing loneliness – like a man marooned in a deserted island smack in the middle of the Pacific with only a half burnt photograph of his past life.
Everyday that I look at this photograph the fainter the memory becomes. How strange that is – is it possible that within this idea of crushing loneliness where a man wakes up and turns the wheel of life day by day – he has somehow passed through into another world?
A world beyond just crushing loneliness. A world that is even impossibly hard to describe.”