s it turned out, her teeth were made of glass - consequently
putting me in the position of having to chew most of her food for her. I
didn't mind, but obviously it was she who had the greater reason for
complaint. She endured it all with good grace, however, and for this I was
very grateful. In any case, she was a very moderate in her eating habits and
the whole ordeal lasted no longer than twenty minutes - or so it seemed to
me: I didn't actually monitor the clock.Her nails were also made of glass, and so next it was incumbent upon me to help her change from her morning clothes into something a little more formal. This also I didn't mind; in fact, I must admit that I used the situation to my advantage somewhat: taking some liberties with my hands, while gambling that her fragile fingertips would prevent her from slapping me. In this instance, her patient good nature worked as a very effective punishment for my boldness. She merely giggled quietly to herself and turned a little red in the face, leaving me feeling both ashamed and inappropriately aroused. I tried to redeem myself afterwards by making an excessive obvious display of attentiveness and care towards her. In the end, I just wished that she had slapped me.
The remainder of our time together passed in an uncomfortable, sullen silence. For this I was entirely responsible: not once since my indiscretion did she act in any way that suggested a reproach. I struggled to find something I could do that would repair the situation, yet never managed anything better than a meaningless, pathetic chuckle. By the time the expected chime at the front door rang, I was ready to throw myself at her feet and beg forgiveness - just narrowly being spared the added humiliation that such an act would have brought. I carried her out into the front yard and placed her on the well-padded rear seat of the waiting vehicle, idling only momentarily before delivering her to a part of the world that I would never see. To my great relief, just prior to her transport pulling away she gave me a final, sympathetic look, squeezing my hand for just an instant. In another instant she was carried out of sight.
Later, as I was sitting quietly in my room, I discovered a
crescent-shaped splinter from one of those glass nails stuck to the sweat
within the creases of my palm. I studied it in the diminishing light from
the window, and when it was no longer visible I put it in my mouth and
swallowed it. That night, I slept a deep, satisfying sleep while the glass
crescent carved a fine yet indelible line along the entire length of my intestines.
M4(8)