Soul Searching

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Babes

Say what you like about Hell, the place is certainly toasty. Sure, it gets lonely with just Mum, Dad and me rattling around the caves, but it beats the surface. I find the world so cold. Bitter. Hateful. Guess Dad would be pretty crap at his job if it was anything else, but right now, stuck on the living room sofa amid one of our father-son ‘chats’, even the surface seems appealing.Dad has the remote in his hand, eagerly flicking through the channels. “This one?”I roll my eyes to the screen mounted at a jaunty angle on the rocky wall and shake my head. “Too skinny.”He stabs the button and the feed changes to a young brunette, ample cleavage spilling from a micro pink sundress, pushing a stroller through a leafy park in some corner of the world. Could be Sydney or Berlin for all I know. “Too mumsy.””Really? With those assets?” Dad sighs and clicks through some more channels. “Honestly, Bob, you’re too fussy. When I was your age I couldn’t wait to get out there. Misbehave. Sample the merchandi-“”Dad.” He turns to face me. “Do we have to do this now?”His eyes glow red, tinged the same shade as the stubby horns that protrude from his shock of black hair. “You have somewhere to be?” He gives a twisted smile, baring neat teeth.I slump back against the mismatched cushions. “Fine.”He continues to scan the channels and I feign interest, my gaze wandering to the PlayStation on the unit beneath the screen. Stolen, like most of the stuff down here. Not as if we have real jobs. Dad had a stint as an investment banker for a “change of pace” as he put it, ironically deciding it was soul destroying.Me? I don’t go for the whole ‘corrupt the human race’ gig. They seem to be doing a pretty good job without our help. Poverty. Famine. War. Digging up the planet. Electing lunatics. The list is endless. But Dad’s obsessed, proud of our heritage. Claims we’re an integral part of maintaining balance, tempting the fragile away from the gates of good intentions to prevent overcrowding. Like we’re doing God a favour.Honestly, I’d rather be an electrician. Don’t have what it takes to do Dad’s job. He makes it seem effortless, but he’s personable like a car salesman, always knowing what to say to tempt someone into the shiny convertible that drives straight to our fiery gates.I’ve tagged along a few times and just end up looking at my feet or blurting something stupid. Girls make me nervous. I think it’s the lack of Ankara bayan escort common ground; I can chat circuits and mechanics with men and it’s easy and comfortable. Women have feelings and use subtext. I’ve read Men are from Mars and still wish I understood them.It’s not that I don’t think about girls. I do. My right hand will attest to that. But it’s not like I can develop a bond or invite someone special to dinner. Nothing spells relationship killer more than, “Hi. Welcome to Hell. This is my dad and he steals souls.”Then again, Mum was one of his assignments and she stuck around, so maybe there’s a slim chance. Perhaps if I stick to the script instead of fretting about trying to come across witty and clever I’d be as good as Dad. Maybe with practice comes confidence, which leads to the possibility of connecting with someone.Caught up in thought, I don’t realise he’s waiting for an answer to the latest prospect until I notice the pause eating away at the living room. I regard the screen and screw up my nose.Dad purses his lips and blows out, flicking another five channels in rapid succession. I watch the imagery dance from girl to girl, varying physical attributes usually on display in one form or another. “Why does it have to be a woman?”He stares at me like I’ve lost my tail. “Tempting men is easy, son. Just show them a flash of T he’s got a dissertation to write. But I just woke up today and had this… urge to see him. Jumped in the car and drove all the way up here.”I whistle in admiration, taking it all in, brain whirling. She’s impulsive. Willing to take risks. And on a day when she craves physical contact, her emotions are likely spiked. Two things in my favour.”You think he’ll be okay with you turning up out of the blue and interrupting his study?””He’d better be! Lectures have finished so he has no excuse.”My shoes squeak in the fresh snow as the ice packs into the treads. “If lectures are over, why isn’t he heading home?””Access to the library.””Oh. The library. Riiiight.”She frowns across at me. “What makes you say that?””Uhh, no reason. Just, y’know, with everything virtual these days.””You think he has another reason for staying up here in the freezing cold?”I shrug, allowing her to join the fake dots. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”We traipse a few paces in silence as I let her stew on the uncertainty. In a sudden flash of guilt at Escort bayan Ankara what I’m doing, I try to take her mind off it. I run ahead a short distance, scoop up some snow and toss it over my head so it showers her.”Hey!”She bends and scoops up a healthy dollop of snow, packs it and launches it. Her aim is true and it explodes off my hoody leaving a white spray pattern on the material.I retaliate and soon we’re in a full-on snowball fight, laughing and becoming colder by the minute. Her leggings are peppered with damp spots and as I catch her, I pull her coat hood to ensure the ball of flakes I hold go down the back of her neck. She shrieks.”That’s freezing, you git!”I back away and she gives chase until I stumble and thump onto my back in a snowdrift. Ellie pounces and frantically scoops snow over me so I’m half buried. I’m unable to move, my sides aching with laughter so much. I don’t think I’ve ever had as much fun on the surface.As I squirm in the freezing conditions with her sitting astride my legs, our eyes lock and something changes. A click inside. We both sense it I’m sure and gradually cease laughing. Coming to her senses, Ellie stands, offering me a very cold hand to haul me out of my predicament.We’re both soaked, teeth chattering, hands numb. I laugh. “Look at you, you’re drenched.””You started it!””Come on, let’s run.”We race to the gate and clamber over, my fingers barely able to grip the steel as I vault into the road and scramble over the opposite gate into the field of white beyond, Ellie in tow.From behind me, I hear her call out, “Hey, wait!” I spin and see her pointing. Off to her right is a shack. It looks run down and disused, the roof dipping in places. “Let’s head there to dry off. We can’t turn up at a farmhouse soaking wet. What will they think?””Might be occupied.”She regards it again. “Naaah. Looks abandoned.”We pick our way towards the shack. The sun peeking beneath the low cloud casts our long, spindly shadows ahead of us. As we draw nearer, I see the stone walls are solid but the slate roof tiles aren’t in great shape. Probably more costly to repair than upkeep, left to decay. I approach the window and rub my sleeve in a rough circle to spy inside. The interior is largely empty; a dilapidated sofa in the living room, with what looks like a kitchen lying beyond.Ellie joins me, our breath fogging the circle where I’ve Bayan escort Ankara wiped away the grime. “Come on, I’m freezing.”She walks ahead of me around the edge of the building and I focus on the way her bum cheeks move in the damp, form-hugging fabric, aching to drop to my knees and lose myself in her curves, her juices drizzling over my chin. The thoughts of taking her chip away at my mind, infecting me with their clarity.Reaching the wooden door, she raps it with her fist.Nothing.Turning to me, she shrugs and tries the handle; a heavy iron ring that raises a metal latch inside. It disengages with a clunk and the door swings inward, clearly no need any more for its owners to keep it locked.Ellie ventures in. “Hello?”Silence.I follow close behind, enough that when she stops at a creaky floorboard I nudge against her. Light perfume drifts to my nostrils and a thrill courses my body. I let it consume me. We stand there in the gloom, inches apart, and I eventually snap from my trance, turning to seal out the winter. A draught blows beneath the door where it doesn’t quite fit.Becoming bolder, we move on. The room has naked beams above us, the apex of the roof visible beyond silvery cobwebs, glimmers of the impending twilight seeping in where tiles have slipped. A stone hearth and fire grate dominate the short edge of the room, a stack of old wood in a mesh hopper alongside.”Shall I try and get that going?”Ellie nods and steps to the kitchen to our left through an open frame. I hear cupboards and drawers opening and closing as I unbundle wood logs and kindling, laying them criss-cross in the grate.Kneeling in the hearth, I cast a gaze over my shoulder to check she can’t see and focus on my fingertips, channelling what energy I can to the frozen tips. As I feel the flow begin inside, I snap my fingers near the logs. The first three sparks fizz and die but the fourth ignites, a flame leaping from my thumb. I wave it under the logs and wait for the smaller wood to catch before withdrawing as the welcoming warmth spreads from log to log.I turn when I hear the boards creak behind me. Ellie stands framed between the rooms, the fledgling fire catching the sparkling crystal in her nose stud. “Wow, that was quick.”I do Jazz hands again. “I’m good with fire.”The flames build, casting a flickering glow around the room. A fine layer of dust covers most of it but it’s not been empty long. The sofa is in reasonable condition beneath a tartan throw, threadbare in a few places, that I gently flip over and spread in front of the hearth. I sit cross-legged in front of the fire and Ellie joins me, still in her coat and scarf. In front of us, she places a tin of rice pudding, two spoons and a rusty can opener.

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