When My Angel Cries...

Suddenly you sense something has changed, some primitive part of your brain detects a sound below the conscious level of hearing and you instantly try to fall silent to hear what it is, but your quiet sobs of grief over your family's determination that it is their right to decide your future only resolve themselves into much louder hickups.

Even though this static of your heaving chest interferes, you detect the telltale sounds of your roommate's feet padding over the carpet. You like your roommate Romana, she's stronger than you, got in on a sports scholarship, and she has always looked out for you. 'You LIKE her too...' The dark voice in the back of your head says, the one your priest told you was a succubus...

At first, you think Romana is just going to the bathroom, then her feet stop, turn... 'OH GOD, she's coming HERE!' you scream inside your own head: before, with a whip and a heave the covers are pulled back! There, the moonlight laying stripes across her nude body from the blinds: stands Romana. Her wild tangle of coal black pubic hair you've so often dreamed of having against your tongue glistens faintly with the moon's cold glow, and the scent that reaches your nostrils: is more intoxicating than any wine...

"Angel, why do you cry?" she asks, a resonant pain from knowing you are hurting inside making her own voice heavy with suppressed tears...