insomnia – meringue – basement
She knew what he liked, what he liked about her, his favourite drink, his taste for violence and meringue. She knew he would ask her to run a hot bath, prepare his Jack Dianel’s on rocks, attend to his needs in his insomnia.
Down, in the basement, she had hidden the short Tanaka, a present from Myriam, her everlasting love. Myriam the wise, Myriam her tender and strong lover.
She would have the bath ready, his whisky just so, the ice still melting. His hand would tease, feel, hit, caress. His bulk would lie in the very hot bath. She would massage his shoulders, serve the meringue. In her hands, silent, lethal, the Tanaka would slice his neck.
Then Myriam would arrive, and take care of everything. Myriam too knew what she liked.
Picture: Mile-High Lemon Meringue Pie