I’d thought he was Orion, the hero.
He’d probed – and he’d probed – and he’d asked questions that made me squirm. He’d discovered my secrets – then unrolled them and tacked them to the front of his house.
One of my secrets was that I was attracted to women as much as to men.
He waited until I was completely isolated – and then he spelled out his plans – for my life.
“You’ll do this for me, won’t you?” His eyes gleamed. “You’ll love it.”
So, he sat in one country – and I sat in another – and I watched him weave online profiles for dating sites.
…..Using photos meant for his eyes only.
I was to meet women – and bring them home – and he would watch.
No. No. No.
“You’re a hunter now,” he said. “Think like a predator.”
Did he really say “predator”?
He didn’t look away – didn’t blink, didn’t blush – as he spelled out the rules.
…..Say something self-deprecating…
……….and give her a goofy smile.
……….She’ll smile back. It’s reflex.
…..Your prey is shy…
……….a bit plain…
……….a bit chubby…
……….her self- esteem’s a bit low…
……….talk with her.
……….and if she’s creative, offer your help.
Oh. My. God.
He’d nocked his arrow. He’d aimed and he’d drawn. And I felt that arrow, slick with my blood. It would not budge – so I picked at the fletching and cried.
passing storm –
the waning moon
hides her face
“You’re one microscopic cog
in his catastrophic plan
Designed and directed by
his red right hand”