Part 9
De Scarecrown aand Mr. Fohn
We place the sleeping Eberts on the bed. I debate whether I should put him on the warm covers, he may get cold, and I don't want him to feel uncomfortable unless I make him that way. Before I can decide Lucy speaks.
"I will play my violin for him?" She asks raising a well manicured eyebrow. Her delicate hand going to her hip, How I wish I was her hip to feel her gentle touch. Her mouth turns into a deep frown, making of the aura of her face dangerous. How quickly she angers with me, when she is unhappy. I do hate her unpleasant.
"You love playing your violin, and I did say maybe. Il est inoffensif, ma petite chou. He enjoys musique just as well as you and I." I give her a reassuring smile. I know how she enjoys me more when I smile.
Unfortunately, this time it is ineffective. She is in her " I am on duty mode," which means she will be in a sour mood, and is using every mental blockade she has to resist my unresistable charms. "You can not really prove, le petit souris, is harmless. You should watch out for this one, the quiet ones always hide hidden talents. I have other matters to attend to." She departs quickly, without are usual warm embrace.
She will hurt me if I get in her way, not like her other victims, but emotionally, by either giving me no affection, which seems to be her game right now, -or- too much love where I choke on it, like a fish does on the fresh air when he is out of water too long. I can play both of these emotional games far better than she can. (I have much practice) Unlike my poor Lucy who likes to drain herself of emotions, this tactic though it seems clever may be her demise. I do hope it isn't very soon though.
I leave the tiny room. I can smell a hint of Lucy's parfume, and her tiny, well placed footsteps echoing off the metal floor. She seems to be walking out to her car.
I frown a little, oh well, I need to get out of this suffocating suit. I turn left and open a door, that blends in with the wall. I walk down a small corridor, the smell of fresh lysol coming to my nose. Damn it, the housekeeper came early again, why does Lucy let her change her schedule so often. I come to a cherry wood door. I type in a security code. My real birthday.
I open the door to a carpeted hall. I strip off the suit, it feels slimy, almost as a grinning cobra might when they molt.I want to skip in the fluffy, forest green carpet, but I have done that many times, and I will get addicted to it if I keep doing it.I go to the end of the hall to a metal door, and pull me out a small key from the tiny pouch on my side. The key is cold , and I presses it against my check. It feels great against my skin, I felt sweltering after being in that suit. I leave there only a second, because I need to open the door.
This door opens until an ever growing small hallway.I crouch down and walk through. It winds in all direction like a labryrinth. I go left, and push into the wall, a door opens. I make my way inside, I need a diet coke. I going inside my lair to go get one. The phone is ringing. I go to answer it, the skin still in one hand
"Hello?"
"Hello, dear brother."
"Oh Huisclos." I drop the phone on the cradle accidently. "Oops, I didn't mean to do that." I chuckle. I walk to a bookcase, and pull slightly out an dilapidated edition of Charles Dicken's "A Christmas Carol", and the bookcase pulls away from the wall. I am now in my glorious Lab. I hear a soft hiss and humming noises. Lucy turned on the incarcerator on for me. I walk to the back and toss the suit in like old rubbish in a dustbin.
De Scarecrown aand Mr. Fohn
We place the sleeping Eberts on the bed. I debate whether I should put him on the warm covers, he may get cold, and I don't want him to feel uncomfortable unless I make him that way. Before I can decide Lucy speaks.
"I will play my violin for him?" She asks raising a well manicured eyebrow. Her delicate hand going to her hip, How I wish I was her hip to feel her gentle touch. Her mouth turns into a deep frown, making of the aura of her face dangerous. How quickly she angers with me, when she is unhappy. I do hate her unpleasant.
"You love playing your violin, and I did say maybe. Il est inoffensif, ma petite chou. He enjoys musique just as well as you and I." I give her a reassuring smile. I know how she enjoys me more when I smile.
Unfortunately, this time it is ineffective. She is in her " I am on duty mode," which means she will be in a sour mood, and is using every mental blockade she has to resist my unresistable charms. "You can not really prove, le petit souris, is harmless. You should watch out for this one, the quiet ones always hide hidden talents. I have other matters to attend to." She departs quickly, without are usual warm embrace.
She will hurt me if I get in her way, not like her other victims, but emotionally, by either giving me no affection, which seems to be her game right now, -or- too much love where I choke on it, like a fish does on the fresh air when he is out of water too long. I can play both of these emotional games far better than she can. (I have much practice) Unlike my poor Lucy who likes to drain herself of emotions, this tactic though it seems clever may be her demise. I do hope it isn't very soon though.
I leave the tiny room. I can smell a hint of Lucy's parfume, and her tiny, well placed footsteps echoing off the metal floor. She seems to be walking out to her car.
I frown a little, oh well, I need to get out of this suffocating suit. I turn left and open a door, that blends in with the wall. I walk down a small corridor, the smell of fresh lysol coming to my nose. Damn it, the housekeeper came early again, why does Lucy let her change her schedule so often. I come to a cherry wood door. I type in a security code. My real birthday.
I open the door to a carpeted hall. I strip off the suit, it feels slimy, almost as a grinning cobra might when they molt.I want to skip in the fluffy, forest green carpet, but I have done that many times, and I will get addicted to it if I keep doing it.I go to the end of the hall to a metal door, and pull me out a small key from the tiny pouch on my side. The key is cold , and I presses it against my check. It feels great against my skin, I felt sweltering after being in that suit. I leave there only a second, because I need to open the door.
This door opens until an ever growing small hallway.I crouch down and walk through. It winds in all direction like a labryrinth. I go left, and push into the wall, a door opens. I make my way inside, I need a diet coke. I going inside my lair to go get one. The phone is ringing. I go to answer it, the skin still in one hand
"Hello?"
"Hello, dear brother."
"Oh Huisclos." I drop the phone on the cradle accidently. "Oops, I didn't mean to do that." I chuckle. I walk to a bookcase, and pull slightly out an dilapidated edition of Charles Dicken's "A Christmas Carol", and the bookcase pulls away from the wall. I am now in my glorious Lab. I hear a soft hiss and humming noises. Lucy turned on the incarcerator on for me. I walk to the back and toss the suit in like old rubbish in a dustbin.