Perception - 2. Chapter 2

"Sure is dark out there today." 34-year-old heavily lotion-coated hands drew the curtains of a cluttered office and sat a white ceramic coffee mug with a chip in the handle onto their boss's desk.

"Thank you, Janeen. Are you coming to the party tonight?"

"Of course, Sir." Her 40-year-old ass, not quite as firm as it used to be, molded onto the flat surface of the desk as she sat on it's corner. As her boss took off his overcoat, Janeen unbuttoned her thrift store blouse reaving 42-year-old shoulders splattered with freckles. A wave of fear ran through her tired body as she realized that this time he may notice. If he happened to run his hand along her back he might discover the award-worthy stitch work that laced her together.

Thick, jet back thread began just below her neck on her back and weaved in and out of her sagging skin.

Regardless of the act his body was taking part in, in his mind the bossman could only think of his party. Everyone who was someone would be there and his wife had better make sure the place was spotless. This was his last chance to impress before re-election.

By the time they had finished the thunder was more prominent. Quick yet softly, like the seeds of a dandelion being plucked from an open bract by the wind, the velvet curtains of the office rippled into the air. Janeen thought to herself that when she closed them the windows had been shut. Business in the main building just beyond the mayor's door that separated them started picking up. If she didn't return to her usual station someone would inquire about her disappearance. As she left, an unraveled thread from her skirt caught her eye. Reaching down and twirling the thin material around her finger, Janeen gave it a tuff pull. 'Ouch,' an immense pain jolted up her spine.

****

By the time the first wooden stake pierced through pink, juicy flesh, the wind had picked up to a phenomenal speed. Alice stuck the last toothpick into the appetizers she prepared. Repulsed by the sight of them, she thought back to that morning when she had cooked the bacon. The hog was stubborn. As she held him by the hind legs, which she had bound together with twine, he squealed uncontrollably. Face first, his snout sizzled as she lowered him onto the frying pan. She shuttered and tossed the greasy package the bacon had been purchased in into the trash.

"Yumm," Danny attempted to swipe a piece of the meat off the try. With a swift hand Alice stopped him.

"Those are for your father's guests. The wind has picked up; go out and make sure those campaign signs are sturdy in the ground."

Danny followed instructions. With the smack of the screen door slamming against the wooden frame, explosive thunder ripped throughout the afternoon sky. A few of the mayor's yard signs shook from the wind and Danny secured him deeper into the ground. From the corner of his eye he noticed the boy from across the street. There, between the drive and the shrubs, nude and motionless, he stood. The desire within him propelled Danny in the boys direction.