Little Red

The saying goes, “Love is blind.” Well, I declare that beauty blinds
common sense . . . my, what great fortune! For bestowed before me, on a midsummer’s
day, was the loveliest creature that I ever laid my eyes upon-graceful in
every way, sophisticatedly draped in the reddest of reds. As she inquired
of the time, her intriguing eyes held mine captive and I could not help but
ask whither she was destined. She was to be a-ridin’ to “da ‘hood”-the
ghettos where her ailing grandmother resided. Most certainly a dangerous place
for a dame like her to be travelling to alone. Being a gentleman, I kindly
offered my company. What came next was unexpectedly pleasurable. She seductively
gave a farewell kiss with a soft declining “thank-you” whispered
in my ear. Would I give so much as to have her!

Oh, the maddening desire in me would not still. Mesmerized, I hastened to
her grandmother’s; intensity came over me and I took care of the old lady.
I slipped into her bed unaware, awaiting. Shortly after, she glided in-her
face still as she lifted the covers to discover me in her grandmother’s place.
“Darling, come to bed with me!” Alas, my enticing power could not
entrance her. Instead, she looked deep into my eyes and remarked, “What
big eyes you have indeed!” Why, certainly all the more to gaze at her
with. I could control my urges no longer, and forced her . . . Thus, the unfortunate
fate of Little Red. Would you not agree that all women are trouble?

(Winter 2002)

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