Roman Scott


He’d seen her before. Her Red hair was thick and lush. Her eyes a saturated green. It was odd, she was always at the grocery store. Once-daily. As if she had a hungry husband and children at home. At any rate, she wasn’t married. Or she didn’t wear a ring. What if she had Elderly Parents and Grandparents at home? Like the Grandparents in Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory. She came to the Butcher’s counter. I gave her the usual. An extra-large cut of pork loin. Who was eating all of this meat? Her pale skin was flawless. It was striking when you got close. Sometimes she wore her hair in a childish way. I kid you not, she once came in with pigtails. Even still it worked for her. She always wore the same thing. There was no variation. But the dress was never dirty. It was green. A deep green. Verdant, he thought. The dress was tight around her shoulders, chest, and middle. The dress settled on her hips like a lazy inverted flower. She was stunning and totally impervious to small talk. She never volunteered anything about herself. I’d ask her how her day was. She’d say good. Then she’d smile, her teeth were perfect as well. She must have been in her early twenties. But she had no cavities. She smiled big. I often felt like the smile was for me. Not in the sense that she was trying to please me because she liked me. But it was just the opposite She literally did not care. The smile was designed to make me think she was normal. But she wasn’t normal. No one in town knew who she really was. A lot of guys in town had gone after her. The best looking guys in town. But she wasn’t interested. I thought she was a lesbian. I had one gay lady friend. I paid her to chat her up in the store. Mary was extremely adept at getting a girl in bed. I envied her. Mary’s Gaydar is state of the art. If a Girl is gay, Mary is there. Mary chatted her up. Nothing. Mary told me she definitely wasn’t gay. All I had was a first name. Emily.

I couldn’t help it. I fantasied about her. I imagined what it would be like to see the supple bounce of her breasts. To look into her eyes and know she was mine and I was hers. To taste her. I decided to jump over the small talk. Maybe I’d get lucky. So when I handed her the pork this time. I didn’t let go. Our eyes met. I said.

“Would you do me the honor of letting me take you out?”

“No.” She said simply. She tugged the meat out of my hand. She turned and walked away. I was cratered. I was broken, I got blackout drunk that night. I realized how wound up I was about her. After I drank as much as I could. They kicked me out of the bar. I made a decision. I called off from work. I wasn’t there today. I parked in the lot of the store. She went in and she got her groceries. At least five bags. I saw her come out. She walked down the street carrying all the bags. I pulled out of the lot. I caught up pretty quick. I rolled the car beside her. I rolled down the passenger side window.

“Did you need a ride,” I said.

She looked down the street. She didn’t hesitate. This was very logical. That was the only way to communicate with her. He realized.

“Yes, I’ll take a ride.” She said.

I put the car in park. I got out and opened the trunk. She put her groceries in.

“It’s clean,” she said. “Unusual for a man.” She said.

“That’s a backhanded compliment,” I said.

She smiled. Just for me. But she didn’t mean it. We got in the car on either side.

“Where to?” I said.

“Home. I’ll direct you. Make a right on A street.” She said.

I made the right turn on A. But I had no intention of taking her home.

“Continue straight.” She said. I turned left.

“Where are you going?” She asked. I didn’t answer. I kept driving.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked. There was fear in her voice. It was real. I looked in her eyes. Her green eyes were wide. It wasn’t far. She wouldn’t jump out of the car. We were going a little too fast. We were in a wooded area, five miles outside of the city. I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed her by the throat. She felt better than I imagined. She screamed. She grabbed my arm and scratched my hand. Her legs were kicking. I tore at her shirt, exposing her chest. Jesus, she was so lovely. She was hitting me but I felt nothing. I got a distinct feeling that someone saw me. That I was being watched. But there was no one around. I kissed her and she headbutted me. She tried the door. I locked it quickly with my left hand. She drew up her knee right into my balls. Holy fuck. She nearly killed me. She wouldn’t let me have her. So I squeezed as hard as I could. Fine, have it your way. It was maddening. I felt a spotlight on my back. It made me choke her harder. It wasn’t long after that. The spotlight seemed to fade. I laughed. I had just the place for her. I’ll just keep the groceries.

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