My car is limping, Dolores Haze,
And the last long lap is the hardest,
And I shall be dumped where the weed decays,
And the rest is rust and stardust.
--Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
Wolf presses his face against her throat, pressing kisses and prayers against the smooth skin. She is still and does not respond.
He falters and whines deep in his throat, his eyes flaring an uncertain yellow. His dark eyebrows draw together and he whispers, "Maybe we could just..."
She rounds on him, blue fire. "No. Not again."
He stares at their white coverlet that had not been so white three months before. A mere three months, is that how long it had been? The pain was old, engraved deep in his bones. He felt as if he had carried it for a lifetime.
"Never again." She quivers and holds her thin frame closer together, and Wolf envelops her in his embrace.
"Alright, Virginia. Never again." Wolf holds his wife through the cold, bitter night.
No matter how much he has the bedclothes washed, sheets replaced, mattresses replaced, entire rooms replaced, the red stain never seems to go away. Virginia's thighs are always bloodsticky, her wails haunt his ears in the middle of the night and day.
No more, no more. Never again.
