The Witching Snakes pt 3

After dreaming of Agatha, Paul walks to her duplex where her sister serves him tea. When Agatha arrives, she makes sushi.

Part 2

“I'm sorry,” he said, “Did I do something?”

“No,” she said. “I just have to...I am sorry. I know so many men who see this feast. Some run away, but most want to be seduced. Their games tire me.”

“Difficult not to play them.”

“Or to act shocked when we break the rules.”

“Ignoring them entirely.”

“Yes,” she said. “You do not have rules.”

“At least not here,” said Paul.

Agatha pointed to his chair. He sat. A plate appeared before him. She placed food within his reach. He snatched a turkey leg with potatoes. He slurped jellyfish with a fork. He drank the ale and shared Agatha's water bottle. He felt certain he was doing everything wrong.

Her hand caressed his neck, softly at first. Bright white nails scratched him. Soft lips touched his neck. Paul was drunk on virtue or love. She licked him and he smelled cinnamon.

His eyes opened and he was on a frame-less mattress in a moldy room with stains on the ceiling. He closed them but the dream passed. He spent the day in distraction, dressing and undressing, choosing his thin black tie; trying to match it to a red shirt. The dream feast rattled his brain. The bathroom mirror told him that he was young, beautiful and callous. His perfect white teeth kept grinding. His bony arm touched the part of his neck where dream Agatha had kissed him.

He wandered out. Breezes followed him to the store and then to the street. He was in front of her duplex; ivy crawled into the windows. He wanted to walk to the door, hit the doorbell and mutter an excuse. Before he could decide, the sister stood before him; she was smiling to tempt a laugh. She wore a green checkered jacket and green eye shadow. Her hair was bright green.