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work is copyrighted to the author @2020. Diese Arbeit ist
dem Autor urheberrechtlich geschützt ©
2020. Please do not remove the author information or make any changes to this
story. All rights reserved by author.
codes: M+mf/ humil / anal / trans /con
--
WARNING: This story delves into aberrant sex
practices that might well offend you. So if topics such as Sadism
and Masochism, among other deviant practices offend you, do not read this
story. Some of the sex depicted is consensual, some not. I don't
condone it. I'm not advocating it. I may or may not even like
it. It's simply a fantasy, a product of my imagination, and thus,
completely fictitious.
Before you read
it, please note the following:
*If you are
under eighteen, it is illegal for you to read this story!
*If you have a hard time separating fantasy from reality,
do not read this story!
*If it's illegal in your jurisdiction to read
non-consensual sex stories, don't read this story!
Support ASSTR: If you can afford to cough up a few bucks, the good folks
who make this all happen would be much obliged…
……………………………………………………..………………………………………..…………………………………………………………………………….
Airy is Lost
&
Ariel Found
(An Erotic Horror
Story)
By
Hunsi
Book
cover Picture
Click to meet Airy:
/files/Authors/HumblePie/Pics/Airy.jpg
Chapter
1
Knock-knock
. . .
"You, hoo! Anyone home?" Airy heard her Aunt Sylvia call out as she
burst through the door without awaiting a response like the intractable
character she was.
Dressed
in a rose pink Duster Jacket dress with pearls and a boutonniere on the lapel,
she looked dressed to attend a social at the West Port Yacht club, but not a
college dorm.
"Auntie,"
Airy shrieked out in surprise as she jumped up off the sofa like a shot while holding
on tightly to the towel she had wrapped around her bust.
"Oh,
there you are, dear child," she said as she gave her granddaughter a
standoffish cheek to cheek kiss.
"Your Uncle and I were in the neighborhood and thought we're
stop to see how you are doing, but it looks as though we caught you at a rather
awkward time," she said with a furrowed brow upon coming to the
realization that her granddaughter was bare-ass naked beneath the towel.
"I'm
sorry, Auntie, I just jumped out of the shower."
"I
can see that,” her aunt replied while looking her over from an arms length away. “And now that I look, I can see something
else too. You’ve got the most darling
little boobies to help hold up that towel," she said with a childish
inflection added to her voice.
"Look
Nelson,” she then called out over her shoulder as Airy’s
uncle walked through the door. “Airy has
boobies!"
"Yes,
dear, I see that,” he said with an air of casual indifference. “It has been known to happen, you know. They remain Baby Cakes only until they’re
not.”
“Nelson
Winthrop, stop acting so snooty. Of
course, I am very well aware of that," she said, and then with a wide-eyed
impish look, she pulled down upon the terrycloth towel over top those ‘darling
little boobies’ to show him what it was they were talking about.
“Oh
my, how precious,” she said giddily.
“You
see Nelson? Two little peaches, aren’t
they just darling?” She said after giving
those two “peaches” a squeeze.
“Yes,
my love, if you say so,” he replied, sounding no less indifferent while shuffling
on past.
“Nelson
Winthrop! Stop that!”
“Stop
what, Honey Bunny?” he asked smiling smugly while pleading his innocents.
“Acting
the crust old fool, that’s what! Your
granddaughter needs to hear words of encouragement from you, not grandfatherly
platitudes. She needs to know that these
latent signs of maturity are nothing to be ashamed of, no matter how itty-bitty.”
“Yes,
dear, you are so right. I was just
making comment on how fast they grow up.
That one day they’re hugging Teddy bears, and the next, they’re gone
away to business school to learn secretarial skills to become an independent
young woman.”
“How
right you are, Nelson. I can always
count on you saying just the right thing,” she said as leaned over and gave him
a peck upon the cheek.
“Are
you sure you don’t want to give them a squeeze?
She asked yet again, only this time while tweaking the little pea that past
for a nipple. “It’ll only help to
further bolster her sense of self- worth, you know.”
“That’s
alright, dear, I’m sure she knows I’m quite proud of her,” he said to his wife,
then turning about, he nosily looked about the room.
"My
word, this room is more like a storage closet than it does a room for a body to
sleep. Where's your roommate?" he
asked with a nod toward the cot stripped of its bedding against the adjacent
wall.
"It's Spring break, grandpa,” and everyone is gone for the
month to gather themselves back up."
"Oh,
poor dear, does that mean you’re left to your own?”
“Yes, auntie!”
“And
all while you’re mother is off to
“Nowhere
to go, Auntie Sylvia, that’s what I’m left with. And the worst part is, I can't even go to
town to buy myself a pizza or see a movie, or do anything other than read and
look out the window and watch the gardeners mow the lawns."
"My heavens, how come?"
"Because
I haven't a dime to my name, that's why."
"What
happened to your endowment check your father passed on to you upon his death?”
"I
only get a check once a quarter, Auntie, and well, I didn't think I'd have to
register for my summer session classes until after the break."
"Huh,
well, perhaps we can asked your uncle to step in with a bridge load of a sort, to
cover you over the short period of time between," she said with a nod
toward her husband, Nelson.
"Why
yes, I believe that I would be agreeable to that. How much have you in mind, my dear?"
"Well,
she will require a daily allowance, of course, and enough to cover the cost of
pizzas and theaters, and some lovely new clothes most certainly. If I had to guess, I’d say three thousand
should cover her expenses for the month."
"Oh
wait," she then thought to add. "Have
they a ‘Lady B. House of Style’ in the college town down the road?"
"Yes,
auntie, there is one on
"Why,
of course, but a pretty little thing like you deserves
to always look her best. Plus, given
your diminutive proportions, it never hurts to bolster what need bolstering.”
Then
turning back toward, Nelson, "Let's make that an even five thousand, shall
we. Not withstanding her using the money
to board a flight to
"Alright,
mother. If you say so, on our way back
to the club, I'll stop at the 1st State Bank and have the funds transferred to
her account immediately."
"Thank
you, Nelson. Now then," she then
said to Airy, "Go put some clothes on before your uncle gets an eyeful of
something a bit more personal.”
“Personal?” she queried, looking down and around and
all about her.
“Yes
dear, as in the form of that furry little kitty of yours I see peeking out from
beneath the couch.”
-----
Now,
about myself . . .
My
name is Arielle
So,
yeah, well, I might have titties the size of peaches,
not gourds, but please don't let that reflect badly upon me. I sprouted up and came to bloom just like
everyone else, but instead of growing out, I grew lissome and lean just like my
mom.
I
was my mother's daughter in a lot of other ways as well. Some good, as in we wore both wore a size 6,
and some bad, as in we both wore a size 6, if you know what I mean.
Anyway,
other then looking every bit two peas in a pod, we also share the same
wanderlust to see new places and meet new people. Something that was foremost on my mind when I
chose this school to attend 6 months ago, and now, as I consider the wonderful
array of far away places I could travel on that 5 grand my Aunt and Uncle had just
given to me.
There
was the Boardwalk in
The
Carnival in
Needless
to say, seeing myself walking amongst that crowd was forever
etched on my mind. But then again, there
was no way they going to let a girl my age travel out of country without
parental consent. That is, of course,
unless she knew someone the likes of John Wilcox, a classmate, a computer whiz
and hacker extraordinaire.
Once
more, John Wilcox was a pimp faced classmate who had the hots
for me.
Ring,
ring, ring . . .
“Hello,”
John said upon picking up the phone.
“John,
it’s me, Airy. I wonder if you would do
me a favor . .
."
---
A
week later Airy found herself standing in line in front of the Air Rio terminal
with the travel documents John had managed to get the airline's computer
terminal to unknowingly cough up.
Flight
dates to and fro, seat assignments, travel permits, hotel reservations, the
works, down to her choices on the menu.
All that was left for her to do was smile sweetly when handing the
prepared papers over to the agent, then show her newly forged, though smartly
prepared, laminated ID card she had in her wallet.
John
was nothing if not a dream come true.
That is, if she were able too disregard his pimply face, his wimpy 5 foot
2 stature and the nerdishly-nerd bolo tie he was
never seen without.
But
was he worthy a peck on the cheek? You
bet! After all, the guy had just turned
the world inside out for me, so yeah, what the hell. Besides, I’ve got plenty of antiseptic in my
cabinet at home to wipe away the pimple pus.
"Welcome
aboard Ms. Angie Jolene. We here
at Rio Air hope you have an enjoyable flight."
The
name, of course, was just a product of John Wilcox imaginings, but nonetheless she
couldn’t help but think it quite the compliment. And, as it was accepted by all, it bolstered
her confidence to such a degree that she dove right in alongside the other
Tourist Class passenger’s who were partying it up on their way to
---
The
next morning after clearing customs, Airy found her way over to the bus that
was there to take her to the Hotel Granada.
The
Hotel was situated along the Avenue Henrique Valadares, a street of some notability. Not because it looked any different than any
other inner city street, but because that was the place where the daily parades
that led up to the Samba Bowl were held.
And, thanks to John Wilcox remarkable talents, Airy, Ms Jolene,
not only had a room there, but her suite looked out onto the street.
After
checking in, she went to her room and stored away her travel bag, then stepped
out onto the balcony and looked down upon the swarm of humanity below. The wildly chaotic celebratory scene she saw
looked like total madness, and much like that picture on the brochure, it was a
scene she felt certain would remain with her for the rest of her life. Or so she believed, only as it turned out,
for a totally different reason.
And
thus marks the end of our happy tale.
Henceforth, I would encourage each of you, my dear readers, to pull down
the blinders so as not to have your dreams disturbed by the horror! :)
--
Part
II
Rancho
prostituta de state of Prieto
Standing
upon the balcony, Airy was so caught up in the excitement of it all, that she
could think of nothing more than joining in on the madness that run like waves
through the crowd. And in less than a
moment, she did just that. As fast as
her feet could carry her, she dashed down the steps, ran through the lobby and headlong
into the crowd, embracing anyone and everybody like a dearly beloved, which
even given the largeness of her innocence, was extraordinary stupid thing to
do.
In
fact, it took not a minute before she felt a hand grab hold of hers and pull
her along through the crowd, quickly and as thoroughly as a knife cuts through
butter, and did so until shoving her stumbling into an alleyway, where she was
immediately pounced on by a gang of hoodlums.
A
short time later, she was shaken awake, followed by the voice of the uniformed
officer kneeling down beside her speaking Brazilian Portuguese of which she knew
not a word of.
That
is, until another man came along and stooped down beside him and spoke to her
in a reasonably coherent form of English.
"Is you hurt?" he asked.
"I-I-I
don't know," she replied feeling her face, and looking down to see if she
was still in one piece.
"This
is well," the man replied, only then seeing him in full, dressed as he was
like all the other the carnival revelers she’d seen out on the street, down to
the eye mask and the costume of a rapier brandishing Zorro.
My
name is Miguel Montego. I am polícia
here to help."
"I
was attacked, my money taken by those men who dragged me here against my
will."
"Yes,
yes, I hear that, Policeman Munoz, he tell me. Now, what
Hotel you stay at?"
"The Hotel Granada!"
"Bom, good, come, I need see papers," he said as he
helped her stand, then helped to support her as she made her way back through
the crowds, and back to her room in the Hotel Granada.
--
"I
see you be in
"Yes,
sir, I know I should have used better judgment."
"Yes,
most certainly," officer Montego replied while
continuing on with his search. Looking
for what she didn't know, nor didn't much care, knowing as she did the fantastic
work John Wilcox had done on their preparation.
That
is until he instructed Officer Munoz, the policemen who'd found her lying
unconscious in the alley, to stand beside her.
"Hum,"
he mumbled, as he scrutinized their positions.
Then after asking the policemen for some information in his native
Portuguese, he turned to ask Airy. "Madam,
Please, if you might explain why your Identification card says you stand 5,9, when officer Munoz's height is 5,9 as well, yet you
stand half a head shorter!"
Of
course, she hadn't an answer for that, and as a consequence she spent the next
4 hours sitting beside his desk in the precinct office where he worked along
the Av. da. Reacao.
It
was a relatively quiet place when they initially walked in, but now, 4 hours
later, the place was a beehive of activity, with everyone running about
responding to his every request until the time came when she found herself
surrounded by a cadre of those investigating officers, while sitting at his
desk, Officer Montego spoke to her rather bluntly.
"Ms.
Angie Jolene, if that is indeed your real name. It is mine to inform you that you are
traveling with false documents. I'm
afraid I must detain you until such time a judge is able to see you.
“Officer
Silva," he then instructed, "I ask for you to place the lady in
holding."
"Yes
sir,” he replied, but before locking the cuffs on her wrist, the arresting
policeman, detective Miguel Montego, had one more thing
to say.
"Oh,
yes, I've been told that the computer used by your accomplice has been traced
and hopefully, he, like you, will soon be in custody as well.”
---
Airy
spend the next few days residing in a holding cell without hearing word one
from anyone other than the Brazilian streetwalker she was locked up with. Her name was
And
that's how she came to know Pedro, "the pimp," Garcia. A man who knew everyone and everyone knew
him. Including Judge Santos, whose chamber
door was always open to him whenever matters in which he was quite
knowledgeable came before him.
"Patron,
Jefe, please, I do not agree with your judgment,"
Pedro, the Pimp, expressed his opinion while sitting across from his desk. She
is still quite young, and as she is a flushing pink Americano, I believe the
"Rancho prostituta de state of Prieto" is just too harsh a place for you to send
her. As they say, it will not do to soil
the meat too quickly. Comprenda?
"Si (Yes), but what else am I to do? You know as well as me, I just can not allow
this matter to pass without recompense."
"Si, Jefe (yes, boss), to allow a
whore from a foreign land to come here to ply her trade, simply can not be
allowed to Pass. Not
now, not ever, and especially not during Carnival the most lucrative season for
our own whores.”
"Yes,
wise friend, that's the dilemma I face, but again, what else is there for me to
do?"
"Patron,
give her to me, and I'll be sure she gets the recompense she rightfully merits. That way justice is served, while you and I
share the rewards."
"Rewards?"
"Si (Yes), she is certain to reap a harvest."
"Oh, Madre de Maria! If that does not sound the
perfect solution. Yes, thank you,
Pedro, you are a wise man. But tell me, just how much do you envision my share of the harvest
will be?"
"Well,
thanks to her success in keeping her whereabouts unknown, I would say the sky is
the limit. She's young, white, fresh and
pretty, not to mention, solely dependent upon the graciousness of others. Frankly, I see no reason why she couldn't
line your pockets with gold until the rigors of old age put her out to pasture."
“Yes,
but what about her accomplice? I was told
the identity of the person or persons was about to be uncovered.”
“No,
Patron, officer Montego has privately assured me that
those involved on the Americano side of the investigation has reached a dead
end.”
“Ah,
good, then it is done. You will take
care not to spoil the meat too quickly, Yes?”
“Si(yes), Jefe, I assure you, she will have no more than 25 a
day.” Then upon giving it further thought,
“. . . for now !”
--
Eight
months later . . .
Airy
hobbled out the room in the back of the Punta bar with her well-spent client
following in the wake of her stiletto blade heels. Her client, her twelfth of the night, paid
the bartender the five Rčal for her use, while she went
back to standing out front, dressed as she was in her fishnet halter that hid
absolutely nothing, and a skirt so infinitesimally short that the buyers could
even assess the beauty of the tattooed tongue painted atop her puss!
And
yes, even though the sun was already beginning to brighten the morning sky, she
still had her hopes of hooking up with one more John, or more to the point, one
more dick before returning to the fold.
But as it is with all scavenging hyenas, they scurry off at the first
sight of morning light.
Obviously,
there were but a few of those hyenas still about when she again took up
position, which on the whole you'd think would please her heart to no end, but
it didn't. Returning back into Pedro’s
fold with too few Rčal (dollars) from too few clients
would only bring on the worst for her.
But
she had no one to blame but herself. Up
until recently she'd do 20, 25 a night, and in the multiples more to fuck her
ass. But not now, not anymore, not since
her youthful elasticity was no longer so quick to snap back.
Not
that that was an uncommon affliction among the whores he stabled in his ‘Av.
Rezenda whorehouse.’ In fact, it was pretty much expected by the
buyers who frequented the place, which for reasons only another scavenging
hyena like themselves could understand, it only gave
them license to thuggishly brutalize the girls all the more.
Though
thankfully, not all!
Take
for example Henry Munford, an Englishmen, a seaman by
trade with roughly weathered skin and graying hair that made him look years
older than the 49 he confessed to. Much
of that was the result of having spent 30 of those years working at sea, where
the salty mist and the heat of the sun baked and hardened and buckled his skin
to the likes of a mummy. Then add to
that his bulbous nose and the brow ridge of a Neanderthal and you have yourself
a man who was just down right ugly!
Though
thankfully, the words he spoke were as beautiful as his heart.
I
mention him because whenever his ship entered the Port of Santos to either pick
up goods to be sent or deliver the goods coming from elsewhere, the first thing
he'd do was go see Airy. He'd pay Pedro his
fee for the day, and again later the night, and for as long as his stay, and
other than the short time it took to take her out buy a Salgadinho,
a sidewalk treat, he'd spend his entire
time in her room. But oddest of all, only
one gentle, loving poke an evenings stay was all he
ever asked of her.
And
he was always so tender and loving, always asking if everything was all
right. Then when done, he'd lay back to
rest with young Arielle sprawled over top of him when talk about all he'd done,
and he'd seen over his many years.
Everything and everywhere from the Galápagos,
the
Once
more, he was never without a story to tell about each. And always told in a reflective, ruminant
voice of a village elder passing on bits of wisdoms to those who would listen.
His
voice and the tales he told consumed Airy's
imaginings as nothing ever had, and nothing more so than when he spoke about
the
But
what set Lanzarote apart from all the others was a
spot he’d discovered when there. A long
abandon eighteenth century lighthouse that stood atop a butte that overlooked
the whole of the sea. From
the
Sitting
high atop that long abandon beacon he felt a captain at the wheel, a man in
control of his own destiny. And it was
on this one spot where he envisioned himself living the remainder of his days
alongside the chickens and pigs and goats he’d bring alone for the food and milk
for the children of which they'd most certainly have a bundle.
"Oh,
yes, that's what I dream, my lovely Arieal, children
by the bundle. What more can any man ask
for."
"You
think you'd like that, Arial, huh?"
He'd ask, while his fingers gently combed through strands of her
hair."
"Oh,
yes, yes," Henry, I yearn for nothing more," she followed, her eyes
welling up with tears.
---
The
following day . . .
Sitting
in the
"Here
you are, Henry, your separation pay. The forty-two thousand and five hundred dollars for your last 6 months
of honorable duty at sea. And as
I've already explained, the four-hundred and fifty eight thousand dollars in your
retirement fund will be deposit in your account by days end."
"All
told, I'd say by this time tomorrow, you'll be lying on Ipanema
beach sipping tequila & lime beneath an Umbrella tickling the feet of some
pretty girl.
"Though
I must say, you will be missed. I mean,
38 years with one company would be an amazing accomplishment for anyone on any
day or time, and as your work has been exemplary throughout speaks to the
person you are."
"Aye,
sir, I appreciate that, and I will surly miss my work, but I plan to enjoy my
remaining years far more.
---
Henry
walked into Ramone's "Casa Prostituta,
Gato," (Cat House), with the brisk stride of a
determined man. Wearing his work-a-day Peacoat and his ‘SS Antilles Maru’
duty cap, he walked down the entrance corridor until he found Pedro, the pimp, collecting
fees from the customers as would a conductor on a train. By his side stood Pepi,
his harnessed, brown and black spotted German Sheppard who served as his guard.
After
escorting a paid up customer to the room where his fuck lie in wait, he
returned to the spot where Henry stood, while holding tight to the harness of
the growling, snarling, brute of a dog who would’ve taken a bite out of Henry's
throat in an instant had he been instructed to Attack!
"Hey,
old man, you wish again to have her for the night? Is that what you come for, old sailor, hu?" He asked
upon his approach.
"Yes,
but tonight I'll not be spending the night with her here."
"No? Where then?" He heartedly laughed, thinking him a foolish
old man.
"I
plan to take her away with me."
"What?" He barked, "Are you crazy, old man, or
just dump as a nail!"
"Get
this straight, you crazy fucker, she is my property, like this dog is my
property. I own her, and should you wish
you even breathe in her scent, you need pay me."
"Now,
I got no more time to waste on you, you stupid fucker. You paid 100 Rčal
now, or I'll let loose this dog and let him rip out your tongue to eat,"
he snarling with teeth grit much like the restless beast anxiously dancing
about at his side.
"Oh
my, I believed I've caused a bit of a stir, when I had no such intent. I don’t know why I did that, but I do know Airy
is not a dog and has a mind of her own.
If you were to ask her, I'm certain she'll tell you that she wishes to
leave with me."
"What?"
He said, bellowing out in laughter.
"I want me to ask that mindless animal to speak? Like a human?
You want me, her handler, to ask this two-legged dog if she wants me to
unclip her leash so she can leave to go with you?"
"Yes,"
Henry replied, "That is exactly what I'm asking of you, kindly speaking,
of course,” he followed, with eyes turned down so as not to appear a
threat.
Remember,
Henry was 30 years Pedro’s elder, and shrunken and weaken by age as he was, it
wouldn’t do to make a foolish stand. But while Pedro might have been bigger and
stronger, Henry did have one advance over him.
His keen eyesight finely honed over his years at sea. His sight so keen that the
threat standing immediately before him couldn’t blink an eye without him
noticing.
"You
crazy fuck," Pedro snarled, not laughing anymore. "Tell me, old man, how can you tell whether
dog wants go piss on your floor or mine?"
"I'm
not asking if I can take that Shepherd of yours home. I'm asking, kindly of course, if you'll allow
the young lady to go with me."
"No,
you're not. You're asking me to pass up
on the money she would make for me tonight.
A solid line up of cocks it is to be, too, and if you don't get out of
my face and hand over the Rčal to use her for the
night, that lineup might even include a few four-legged cocks as well."
"Tell
me old man, have you ever seen a dog fuck a girl
before, hum? Have you ever seen what
they do to them; the savage, unrelenting way they pile drive their cocks up the
puss and sometimes their ass? You ever
seen a girl tied ass to ass with a dog, and then watch as she is forced to
crab-walk behind as he takes a tour around the joint?”
“It’s
a sight to be sure, one that men pay handsomely for to watch, none caring a
wick for the bitch who’ll never again be able to close up tight, forever after,
useless to men.”
"I
don't think you'll have much of an interest in her then, now would you. But if you don't pay me the money you use her
for the night, or turn around and get the fuck out of here, that's what you're
going to get. A bitch being dragged
behind a dog, tied by the knot, as he prances up and down hall, eager to show
all his prized bitch."
“You
got me old man?”
"Wait,
wait!" Henry through up his hands, I can see you mean business, and I
apologize for the misunderstanding. Yes,
I want to pay, and I will pay you,” he then said while reaching into his pocket
for something to show him. But before he
could pull his hand out . . .
"Stop!” Pedro shouted as he pulled out a
knife. “Don’t you fucking move, old man,”
he said, as he switched the blade open. Whatever
you be reaching for I hope it’s worth it because you
just made a big mistake.”
“Wait,
wait, I mean no harm, I was just reaching for the envelope where I be keeping
me money. Eighteen hundred
Rčal, just like before. I even brought me two hundred extra just in
case."
"Fuck
you! I don’t trust you no more. I think
you be conniving on me, maybe even reaching for a blade of your own, and try as
you might, to steal her away. But I
intend to stop you short, right here, right now. This razor sharp deadly poker is going to
punch you so full of holes that that machismo of yours is going to drain from
your brain."
“No,
no, you got me all wrong, I ain’t conniving and I’m gonna pay you.”
"I
told you, you ol’Fucker, it’s already too late. Now, you close your eyes and say hello to the
devil because I'm about to cut you. And
when I’m done bleeding you, I'm going chop you up into small pieces and feed you to your sweetheart so she’ll have
the taste of you in her mouth as the dogs fuck her for the entertainment of
this evenings clientele."
And
on that, he held the blade up as if to preparing to thrust it, but before he could
execute the dastardly deed, Henry put his finger on the trigger of the 38
snob-nose he had in his coat pocket, and pulled. Bang!
And
then, before the snapping, snarling, charging dog’s rear feet even left the
floor – Bang! He got it right between
the eyes
---------
Having
filled his gunny-sack with is daily quota of mussels, cockle, clams and crabs
from the sea, he heaved the sack over his shoulders
and again started out on the trail that scaled the side of the butte to his
home.
When
reaching the top, he stopped a moment to take a breather, while taking in the
beauty of the sight before him. From the
long abandon lighthouse that now served as his home, to the pens that housed
the pigs, goat and chicken, and the lush green garden where the turnips, carrots
and cabbage grew plentiful in the rich, fertile soil
It
was all exactly as he had envisioned it would look. The end product of a life long dream finally
come true, and as he again stopped to ponder it all, his eyes did brighten and
his smile never grew broader.
“Aye,”
he uttered to himself as he again picked up his sack, full as it was with the
harvest from the bountiful sea, and continued on to his home.
The
old 18th century granite block tower that once alerted many a mariner
to the hazards at sea and now served as his home, provided as well for him as
did the sea. The warmth, the comfort, a
solid buttress from which, Third Mate, Henry Munford, could command the world he’d
built around him for himself.
Well,
not entirely for himself. There is another, the young lady who opened
the door when she saw him approach.
“Henry,”
she beamed with joy as she through her arms around his neck and kissed him upon
the lips.
“Yes,
that be me, my darling, Arielle,” he replied, once he’d come back up for
air.
“I
got me some mussels and some cockles too.
What say you to a Cockle stew tonight, hm?”
“Oh
yes, my love, it’ll be just as you like, with turnips and cabbage. You’ll provide the wine, won’t you?”
“Aye,
that I will. Let me change me boots, then I’ll go up and fill us a pitcher.”
And
so he did, taking three steps at a time as he wound his way up the winding
staircase past the bedroom floor and up another flight to the storage room
where he found, then tapped into, the barrel of cactus wine to fill his jug.
He
was, of course, thinking most about the lovely meal that was to come. But lingering in the back of his mind, there
were other thoughts tugging upon him as well.
Thoughts about what awaited him on the floor above. That great glass eye that no longer glowed in
the night to forewarn the wayfarer of the hazards that be.
Of
course, that eye, now dark and dormant, served only as a perch for the gulls
now. Likewise, the long dormant lookout-deck
that circled that glass eye in the sky served only as a bridge for Harry to
stand and take up the helm like captains of old; Captains who would command a
course that drew the truest of lines before a following sea.
And
much in the same way, he too would imagine himself taking the helm, his ship
nicely making along the Trades. Before him,
off the wind, lie the
It
was at that moment his imaginings gave way to reality as Arielle appeared at
his side seemingly from out of the mist.
“It’s
beautiful,” she whispered, looking out into the distance.
“Aye,
that’s why I come here, why I’ve been coming to stand at this spot before young
Airy even wore diapers.”
“Arielle!”
she said, “Airy is now lost to me, wiped away from my memory by Pedro.”
“Aye, that he did.”
Then
after placing his hand atop her pregnant belly, he said, “Lost, yes, and
already forgotten, but not Arielle, she be found by Henry, and that be a fact!”
Das Ende
Hunsi
:)
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