Retrace steps to the Parlor

Alyssa woke from her mid-morning nap, to find the bed empty, and the room void of her new lover. Rising from the comfortable mattress, she spotted a scribbled note taped to the mirror. “Sorry, I had to go. It was great. See you tomorrow. - Lila.”

Once again, Alyssa was mired in confusion, guilt, shame, and lust. She couldn’t figure out what she was doing, or why. It was all wrong, yet it always felt so right. She liked the “new her;” but, her prim, conservative exterior needed answers. Besides, she was a teacher; everything has a logical perspective. The only way to resolve her questions, were to retrace her steps from yesterday, and see if she could piece together the reasons for her sudden transformation.

Not having much of anything else to wear, Alyssa donned her underwear and her running sweats. Having stayed longer than she expected, Alyssa made a mental note to stop by a store along the way, to buy some new clothes. She left the room and climbed into the elevator. Like yesterday, she stared at her image, “Very plain,” she convinced herself as she looked over the light blue outfit, with dark blue stripes on the sides and sleeves. She lowered the zipper on the jacket a little more than she usually would have, exposing just a hint of the cleavage between her swollen breasts.

As the elevator hit the lobby floor, Alyssa suddenly worried if Brad or Robert were lingering about. She wasn’t sure how she’d react if they confronted her in the lobby. Her heart raced as the doors opened and the “ding” announced her arrival. She scanned the bustling people all milling about, but did not spot either of the staff members she entertained last night. Even though she was relieved that the two weren’t there, Alyssa felt a sense of disappointment sweep over her. Some hidden part of her wanted to see the two young men again. Alyssa shuddered the eerie feeling as soon as she stepped past the lobby doors and into the midday air. The black clouds threatened to burst into a warm summer rain.

Alyssa reminded herself that she was on a mission to retrace her steps from yesterday, and see if she could figure out what had transpired to bring about her sudden change in behavior. She headed in the direction of the oriental village that was nestled a few blocks to the east. She knew it all started with the massage parlor somehow, and decided to go back there and put the pieces together from there on. She turned the corner onto the somewhat familiar street and tried to locate the tiny parlor nestled among the other buildings. However, this time, she could not find the parlor. She knew she was on the right street, because all the other buildings and stores were familiar, but in place of the parlor was a quaint little candle shop. Alyssa stood in front of the shop and turned in circles several times, trying to get her bearings straight, ensuring she was indeed at the exact same location as yesterday. Panic began setting in as her search for the parlor was in futile vain. Her heart rate increased as confusion and worry set in.

Determined to put her mind at ease, she entered the tiny store and spotted an elderly, oriental woman standing behind the counter. The unique smell of candle wax permeated the entire store and wafted through Alyssa’s nostrils. Alyssa approached the clerk, who had her back turned, and inquired as to the whereabouts of an oriental massage parlor. Her heart jumped into her throat when the old lady turned to greet her. It was the same old lady that manned the desk on her way out of the parlor, or at least looked that way.

“Sorry … no English,” the frail woman muttered in her best attempt at making conversation. She was holding a lit, orange, three-wick candle, as she turned, catching Alyssa’s attention. The three flickering flames danced wildly as the lady placed the candle on the counter. “Smell,” the woman offered as Alyssa neared the counter.