Showing posts with label Karen Schindler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Karen Schindler. Show all posts

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Aftertaste

by Karen Schindler

She was exquisite.

Her naked body seemed to pulse and thrum as he circled her, snapping image after image, the afterglow of her pale form burning into his retinas. His mind reeled as he captured her likeness. He’d never worked with someone who looked so luminous through the lens.

He kept snapping and circling and circling and snapping convinced that he could see heat rolling off her in waves. He could feel her energy feeding his as he revolved closer and closer. When they came face to face for the last time she widened her eyes and made a sound that was as close to a groan as he could bear and remain upright.

He felt a jolt of something run top to bottom through his nerve endings. He wanted to reach for her but he couldn’t stop snapping images. He couldn’t tear his face away from the camera.

Mesmerized, he watched as her left hand reached out to caress the long shaft of the telephoto lens. Her right beckoned with a delicate finger.

He leaned toward her, her face getting larger in the viewer until it filled every corner of his vision and his mind. She tipped her head, licked her lips and parted her mouth into an inviting O.

He felt himself drawn into and through the prisms of the camera, out the lens and into her mouth.

As his body crumbled away she gently placed the camera onto the floor. She licked a finger and delicately sampled the pile of dust that had been a man moments before.

She smiled, languidly stretched and savored the memory card melting on her tongue just as a devout Catholic savors a holy communion wafer.

She could feel his juices mingling with hers, feel his hot blood soaring in her veins. He had been a good one. Young, vital, full of sexual power. He should last her for at least a month.

The happy accident of a wave depositing her into a time plane that sported photographers on every corner and the internet to help her find them made it so easy. She hardly even had to hunt.

The only downside was the memory cards.

She just couldn’t get used to the digital aftertaste.


__________


Karen Schindler writes even when she's not writing. A lover of words her whole life, she is amazed and awed when she can string them together in a way that touches another soul. You can visit her at Miscellaneous Yammering where you'll find fact, fiction, sillyness and lots of descripitons of weird things that happen in Ohio.