The Widow / La viuda

The Widow

            “I can’t make any promises,” he said, leaning in to kiss her tentatively, unexpectedly.

            “Because your wife?” she asked. Longing clouded her thoughts.

            “She doesn’t want me to leave,” he said. His mouth on her neck like a hickey made her gasp.

            “And your girlfriend?” The girlfriend was dust. His lips were hedonists pursuing her.

            “She’s making me wait now.” With hangdog eyes he supplicated, appealing to this one weakness. She knew it would not end well, but the heat of his fingers on her bare skin was irresistible.

            “Yet here you are,” she said. Or she thought.

La viuda

-No puedo prometerte nada -dijo, acercándose a tientas hasta besarla inesperadamente.

-¿Porque tu mujer? -preguntó. El deseo le nublaba los pensamientos.

-No quiere que la abandone -dijo. Su boca en el cuello como un chupetón le cortó la respiración.

-¿Y tu novia? -La novia se esfumó. Sus labios eran hedonistas que la perseguían.

-Ahora es ella quien me hace esperar. -Con ojos de perro abatido suplicaba, apelando a ésta, su mayor debilidad. Ella sabía que no podía acabar bien, pero el calor de sus dedos sobre la piel desnuda era irresistible.

-Sin embargo, aquí estás -dijo. O pensó.

23/nov/2010

Entry for 100-word story contest II Premio Museo de la Palabra (not even close!)

Link to the winning story:

http://www.fundacioncesaregidoserrano.com/Rosa-Pastor-Carballo-obtiene-el-Premio-Museo-de-la-Palabra-por-su-microrrelato-La-sopa.htm