A Dinosaur Is A Man's Best Friend (A Serialized Novel), Part Seven: "The Prairie and the Darkness"
Fiction & Literature, Action Suspense, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction
| Author: | Wayne Kyle Spitzer | ISBN: | 9780463794432 |
| Publisher: | Wayne Kyle Spitzer | Publication: | August 30, 2018 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Wayne Kyle Spitzer |
| ISBN: | 9780463794432 |
| Publisher: | Wayne Kyle Spitzer |
| Publication: | August 30, 2018 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
“It’s okay,” he said, softly, gently. “I know you belong to him. Like I said, we just got—carried away. That’s all.”
She lay against his chest in silence for what seemed a long time.
“I don’t know who I belong to anymore,” she said.
And soon she slept and dreamed once again—in which she found herself making love to her husband in the shitty trailer house in Anchor Rock … which morphed into the ramshackle house in Lonepine and Will; which bled into the tent with Sammy and the vision … a vision to which she returned, lost, wandering, until she found the man in the dirty bandana. Until they, too, were making love, or a perversion of it, and she knew not in truth who she even was anymore, but sensed that she had become not just a woman but a focusing point, an epitome, a river of menstrual blood as dark as it was unpredictable—the mother and whore to the entire world.
“It’s okay,” he said, softly, gently. “I know you belong to him. Like I said, we just got—carried away. That’s all.”
She lay against his chest in silence for what seemed a long time.
“I don’t know who I belong to anymore,” she said.
And soon she slept and dreamed once again—in which she found herself making love to her husband in the shitty trailer house in Anchor Rock … which morphed into the ramshackle house in Lonepine and Will; which bled into the tent with Sammy and the vision … a vision to which she returned, lost, wandering, until she found the man in the dirty bandana. Until they, too, were making love, or a perversion of it, and she knew not in truth who she even was anymore, but sensed that she had become not just a woman but a focusing point, an epitome, a river of menstrual blood as dark as it was unpredictable—the mother and whore to the entire world.
