He lays on the white cotton-sheets of clean, comfortable bed, still dressed in his cassock, and the colors around him seem unnaturally beautiful, rich and soft. Air seems to pulsate in this completely different world.
He is not alone. Beautiful woman, with dark hair and full lips, lays in the bed with him. She is nude, and her perfect body is fragrant from perfume and clean musk. She is the desire in person - pure and intoxicating.
And forbidden.
Woman´s eyes are like dark amber. He ponders what is her name, and although he doesn´t speak aloud, he gets an answer.
"Clarimonde..."
It is like a sigh. She bents and puts her lips to his, the fresh mouth with fragrance of fruits. He has never kissed a woman. Her hand caresses his chest, then it goes up and moves his collar from his throat.
Her teeth are like sharp pearls, and they pierce his throat painlessly, drawing the crimson blood which she drinks.
He closes his eyes, enjoying the pleasure of her embrace, which seem to give him life, not take it.
Clarimonde raises her head and caresses his hair.
"Soon, my love... "
He wakes up in his bed, in his grey plain parish. His hand raises to his throat, and he feels the tiny wounds.
Woman´s sweet voice exchoes in his head.
Soon, my love...
AN: Please note that English is not my first language.