Saturday, February 7, 2009

Denigrate

denigrate \DEN-i-greyt\, verb:
to attack the character or reputation of; defame

Lying in bed he snored while she still lie there fully awake. Naked. The room dark and cold. His body warm but her not wanting to snuggle up against him. She was on the inside, by the wall. She put her hand out and pressed it flat against the white, pasty coldness of it. Through it, she sensed the thick, frosty air outside. She turned her head to the window above his desk and saw the sky was beginning to turn colors. No longer dark blue, it was turning a slate gray. The winter color of morning. She shivered. He snored, lying on his stomach, with his head facing out toward the door. His arm and upturned palm the closest thing to her. Looking at him, feeling her nakedness on the crisp sheets, she knew she had to go.
She felt with her toes the end of the mattress, searching for her underwear. Her big toe looped around something crumpled and she slowly slid it toward herself. Feeling with her fingers, she found the right openings and slipped them carefully up her legs, trying not to move too much. She thought she remembered her bra on the floor, along with the jeans and sweater she'd worn out the night before. The hardest part would be crawling out of bed and putting on her clothes without waking him. She mentally crossed her fingers and hoped that he'd still be heavily sedated from the alcohol, but the fact that she was awake didn't convince her that was the case.
Flipping back the thin blanket that had been just barely covering her, she started to scrunch down to the end of the bed. Almost there, his head gave another snort and his body shifted. She paused. Looked at him. He was on his side now, still facing out. She waited and after a minute of nothing, she started to move again. Off the bed and around to his side, she tip-toed. Bending over to pick up her jeans, her breasts hung forward, the nipples hard from the cold air. Suddenly he grunted and she looked over at him. She saw his eyes were open, but he didn't move. Their eyes made contact for a few seconds. Feeling uncomfortable in her position, she moved to cover herself and stand up straight, but then he turned and faced the wall.
So she put on her clothes, no longer trying to be quiet. And when she was done she grabbed her purse, took a quick look around to be sure she hadn't left anything behind, and then escaped out the door of his apartment, went quickly down two flights of stairs and pushed the first floor door open to the outside. The chill of the early morning met her there. But this coldness she welcomed. Like diving into a pool of water and coming up for air. She walked to her car, thinking, never again. Never again.

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