I agreed to meet Ouroboros at a neutral location. When I arrived at the restaurant, he had already ordered, and was biting into his own tail. I tried to make small talk, but he didn't seem too interested. I left him sitting at the table, but I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't even notice I was gone. He was so full of himself!
The wee Fairy Princess
T’was on a braw, bricht, Moonlicht nicht,
Where there I met this lassie,
Such a bonnie wee lass I ne’er had seen,
With her twinkling eyes, so sassy!
The dew was on the heather,
The moon high over the glen,
I met her there, near Inverness,
But we’d never meet there again,
She kissed me once in the moonlicht,
It was there she stole my heart,
For she was a fairy princess,
Who knew, we soon would part,
Though it seemed a novel invention,
That I might propose to her,
I soon made clear my intention,
Whispered in a sweet demure,
But my bonnie wee fairy princess,
Who with my whole heart I desired,
Left me there in the dewy heather,
Lovelorn, heartbroken and tired,
Me wee tartan kilt I treasure,
A plate of piping haggis I adore,
But my bonnie wee fairy,
In the bricht, Moonlicht nicht,
Is lost to me, ...evermore.
Blind Date with Medusa
We met online, had a good chat, and decided to finally meet face to face. What seemed odd was that she requested that I wore a blindfold over my eyes during our date. When people think of a blind date, this isn't what they had in mind. But she insisted so I played along.
I waited and then she arrived. We shook hands and ordered some wine. We talked for while until our orders came, sharing laughs and stories. I could tell from her voice that she was nervous, which was fine. I was nervous too.
I finally mustered the courage to sneak a peak, lifting the blindfold off of one eye. I got a good look at her while she powdered her nose. I must admit so someone with lime green skin, lemon eyes, and slithering snakes that replaced her hair; she was actually kinda cute.
Now if only my foot wasn't a cement block.
I reflected back on the date I had with the guy my friends had set me up with, who was extremely fascinated with bugs.
The restaurant we happened to be in served bugs. I must not be keeping up with the latest trends.
Another detail I observed was that my date was still wearing his coat at the round table.
The girls had told me that I'd have a wonderful date night. He's a great guy that would blow my mind. There were right about one thing. My mind was blown- by simply watching all the creepy cooked crawlies that were being eaten like a plate/serving of beef or chicken.
After surviving the strange dinner, I paid for the meal. My date didn't even want to split the bill with me. What was his excuse....he didn't have a wallet. He doesn't carry earthly materials like money on him. Wow. If I had a car I would have driven back to my apartment.
I faced him and before I even said a word. He said, " You can call me Mr. Harpie or Harp for short." Was he able to read my mind. Oh no. He must have been aware of all the things I thought during our brief dinner date.
Harp: I enjoyed having dinner with you. I want to tell you that I'm no ordinary guy. I'm a Harpy.
After dinner Harp carried me into his arms. The next thing I knew I was brought safely back home.
Lisa could feel the Grim Reaper's eyes on her the whole time. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat and forced herself to stomach the plate of bacon before her.
"After this, I want you to follow me to my place."
She jerked her head up rapidly, a fearful look crossing her eyes. "Uh...what?"
"You heard me," was Death's cool reply as he leaned back against his seat.
"But...that isn't our agreement. It was meant to be a date only."
Lisa was right. This arrangement was just an agreement. It happened two days ago when she walked in on Death trying to take the soul of her sick old mother. In an attempt to keep her mother alive, Death offered a deal--A date in exchange for her mother's life for a year.
Now, he was trying to take things further? No way. She didn't trust this man. There was no way she'll follow him.
He held his hand up. "Before you answer, I want you to know I have a reputation of exterminating those who are stubborn." He fingered the scythe in his hands for added effect. "So? What will it be? Will you come home with me after this?"
"Yes." Lisa said, making a mental note to carry weapon on her way there, however useless it may be.
Sing it loud, sing it proud
I can't remember whose idea it was to go to a poolside karaoke bar.
She told me not to let her sing.
I didn't listen.
I could tell she was nervous so I went first. My rendition of "Sweet Caroline" was met with pity applause.
She looked through the songbook listlessly.
I shot her a thumbs up and mouthed "go on" to her.
She began vocalizing. I didn't recognize the song, but appreciated the brave decision to go acapella until the bodies started piling up.
Men were drawn to her song, throwing themselves into the pool and floating towards her.
I splashed into the pool, desperately doggy paddling trying to break free of the song's hold.
I fumbled in my pocket for my earbuds wishing I had heeded her warning from earlier in the night.
"I know this is our first date, but I believe in full disclosure," she said.
"I'm a siren," she said.
"I lure men to their doom with my singing."
"That's ok. I vote Republican," I said trying to deflect with a joke.
She wasn't amused.
"I'm serious. If the opportunity ever arises, don't let me sing. Once I start I can't stop."
The earbuds muffled her song enough for me to break free.
Mercifully her song ended. Feedback squealed when she dropped the microphone. She snapped out of her trance, looking at the carnage she had caused.
She handed me a towel.
Shivering, I asked, "So... want to go grab some dessert?"
Don’t date the monster under your bed
Dating a roommate never goes well. So why did I think this was a good idea?
Michael's been my roommate since his girlfriend kicked him out and I heard him sulking beneath my bed. At first I assumed he was one of those murdering rapists your mother warns you about, so I greeted him with a can of mace and various empty threats of my large husband coming home any minute. In return he cowered, covering his single eye and begging for mercy. After an astute observation, I realized he was just a heartbroken fool, and reluctantly agreed when he asked to stay for the time being.
Things took a turn from there. My first clue should have been that he insisted on sleeping on the floor of my room instead of on the couch that I'd prepared for him. I ignored his promises that he'd be respectful and began to sleep with brass knuckles just in case.
The next clue came from watching a romantic comedy with him one night - one which I can't sit through without laughing so hard that I cry. I noticed him staring at me, and my jaw hit the floor - he was fucking master-bating to my laughter! The movie abruptly ended, as did his nefarious activities after I beat the shit out of him.
Later, once I'd calmed, he asked if I'd consider a date. Before I could disagree, he shoved me in my closet. In the middle of a fucking blizzard.
"How was it, how was your date?"
"Nice? Fine! How was the sex after the date?"
"How do you know we even had sex?"
"Well, she is a nymph, right? The whole nymphomania term sort of came from them, right?"
"Perhaps the nymphomania is a myth?"
I blush in spite myself.
"See! I knew it! It was crazy fantastic, right? The sex I mean."
"I wouldn't say that."
"You going to see her again?"
"No, never again."
"But she was so pretty, with a crazy hot smile."
"She was and is. But, there is more to a relationship than that."
The conversation died there and after enough time of awkward silence, I watched my best friend leave. Left with my thoughts, they all drift back to her, and how she still haunted me.
The sex was inevitable. She pushed and pulled pleasure from me in ways I could never even imagine before. Now the experience haunted me. I craved her deeply. Her last words though, they haunt me even more.
"Mmmmm. You were amazing, sweet. I would have enjoyed doing this again."
"You make it sound like we can't."
"We can't. Your touch was too perfect, your seed already took hold. I am to have your child. My greatest honor. As is custom with nymphs, I must raise her alone. I hope she has your sweet eyes though."
For the rest of my days, I will wonder if my daughter will.
Slowly, I counted the steps between,
Her body and mine. Nine,
She pulled back a black shawl,
Sprawled over the thorns of her shoulders.
The blue moon glistened on leathery skin.
Eight, and my heart rate rises,
Her eyes dilate as I tear away breastplate.
I beg for her progression. Seven,
Stepping closer, eyes transfix, six,
Her arms rip, a barely covering dress.
She wears less and less, I press on.
I drive towards her, five. We're almost running,
Our gazes cunning, both wanting,
To take each other before, four, the other.
Three, I am reaching for her chest,
Her firm breasts rising as her arms raise,
There are no more plays, two,
She, who holds my heart,
Now grabs at my horns and hair.
I am there and she has won.
He was a merman,
Tried to drag me into the sea,
Only one problem,
Can't swim for the life of me.
He took me to dinner,
I guess sushi wasn't the best choice,
Suppose I'm just not a winner,
And I think a witch stole his voice.
We have little in common,
Not just my lack of a tail,
Next time I'll date the navyman,
About time we set sail.