Bare knuckled fun

Floaties

 

I proceeded along with a swagger in my step.  Life was finally moving in the direction I had sorely desired for so long.

Mentally ticking off the procedures that awaited me in the next few hours had removed my attention from the task at hand.  One should never blame another for one’s own actions, however in this instance I do lay a certain amount of the blame upon inky blackness of the predawn morning, tripping on some unidentifiable detritus on the pavement.  Gravity and poor balance became my enemy as I crashed to the ground in an untidy cloaked heap. My Doctors bag springing open on impact with the ground, dashing its contents near and far; I was momentarily stunned.

Gingerly I rose from the pavement, taking stock of any injury I may have sustained.  Once a clean enough bill of health was established, I began to replace those tinctures and bandages and surgical implements back from whence they came, albeit without their usual order.

Gladstone bag full once more, I stood and stretched, arms cast out either side of me, in the same manner as portrays the demise of Christ.  Stretching and turning my head to the left then right, and lastly left again. To my great surprise I spotted my love there in the window beside me.  We began to converse, and to my absolute shock and horror, I realised on closer examination that there in that room, that room that my Jack was in, lying on a bed in the scantest of undergarments, was a young and beautiful woman.  The happiness I had in my belly evaporated with immense speed, only to be replaced with diamond hard rage.

My Jack.  MY HUSBAND TO BE had been sitting in HER room all the while I had been talking to him!  The utter scoundrel! My total devotion to him had amounted to nil! The rogue! The completely devious snake!  How could I have given this hound my heart and thankfully not my body?!

But, was he really to blame?  Was he seduced by such a woman of beauty and shape? Something I so obviously possessed neither of?!

It was HER!

Looking past HIM, I sought entry to that room within seconds. The front door of the attached terrace house had a small panel of glass in its centre, which I swiftly stove in with the end of my stick. On fiery inspection whilst thrusting my hand through the hole in the window, I found the inner door handle to be within quite easy reach.  Without hesitation I opened the door to her lair, loudly as I did so. I strode directly into her room. A room that smelled of lavender and rose petals.

Her bed was located in beneath the window of the lavish bedroom, and I was screaming all the while for Jack to show himself, then at her for the harlot she was.  So loud did I scream that I, to this day, do not know if she made a sound, as I ranted and raged.

Jack, the yellow dog was nowhere to be found.

 

Quietening down, I looked down into her utterly horrified 18 year old face.

 

“What do you want Jolly Jack?” she said in the most terrified of voices.

 

Her words were the trigger to the carnage I laid about her.  I beat her. I beat her face, her breasts, her sex and anything else from her that would give anyone the slightest whiff of her gender and her beauty.  I beat the muscles of her legs; I beat her internal organs. I beat her and beat her because of my shattered heart SHE was responsible for. I could not stop. She was the defiler, yet HE was so EASILY LEAD!

 

After a few minutes I settled, and took in the blood and carnage I had made of the lasses room. My job completed I sat in the corner of that little room, utterly exhausted.  I cursed Jack for the puerile whelp he was, destroying him in my mind. Throwing his image away like midden to the heap. Never would I allow him to see me; talk to me! He would taunt me nevermore, the cur that he was.  DAMN HIS EYES!

Picking myself and my things up once more, I stood and walked out of Delilah’s den, pulling the door behind me as I did.  Into the darkness I plunged, aware of the list awaiting me at Fremantle Public Hospital. Two streets away I washed the vile remnants of the woman that destroyed the love, nay the union, of Jack and I from my hands and face.

Still managing to arrive slightly earlier than my list warranted, I was able to change my shirt for the spare I kept at the hospital for moments such as this.  Jolly Jack did so like to think ahead.

 

 

Click the picture, or don’t.

 

 

 

N.

 

(+61) 0418393742 – text only

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