No Longer at Ease

A grand dinner-party; everyone was there, exultant and ecstatic, mingling and chanting, making a festivity of it all. But for him, it was a turn off, because she wasn't present. He subconsciously craved for her presence, and prayed for it-obliviously-as he tightened his grip, unjustly, around the bottle containing his drink. No sooner than later, "as a consequence of his prayers", she arrived, to amend the situation-his predicament.

As soon as she stepped in, the light she radiated lightened up the dimly lit hall. And the music that had reached its crescendo and quite thunderous, seemed to play in the background. To him, nothing can ever overshadow his utter attention for her, once she is present, and even when she is not.

"God, this is obsessive," he thought. His gaze fixed on her, consuming every detail of the moment about her. Such a faultless beauty and unblemished smile, tall and full-bodied, with richly dark hair that reflected light. It was the third time he would see her entirely in blue, and twice consecutively: yesterday was one, and today the dress seemed shorter, and loose, yet he could still see that glorious figure that had set his mind on the course of chaos and disarray. His desire was on dire fire.

"Fidelis, do you know that the effective cure for brucellosis is slaughter policy?" Timothy probed again, peering through his glasses in a comical disposition. This time the question was modified in an attempt to be less annoying, but without success. He reluctantly shifted his attention from her and gave him "the look"; this muted him. The interruption made him partially rest his indulgence in her for a while as he thought about Timothy's psyche.