A Perfect Evening
Answering the phone before checking the name or number on the caller ID is something I don’t usually do.
But I had a good feeling about this and when I heard her voice, my instinct proved right. A call I thought I’d
never receive. After a brief greeting, and before letting me say anything, she invited me to dinner at her
house. Stunned, I enthusiastically said, “I’d love to come.”
“Friday night at eight works for you?” she asked. “Certainly, I’ll bring a bottle of Shiraz to enhance the
romantic ambiance of our night together.”
I was there right on time as the host demanded and knocked on the door. A few anxious moments passed
with no response. Waited a few more seconds with stirred-up emotions and knocked a little harder. Then the
rhythmic sound of her footsteps sharpened my ears and when she opened the door, I was mesmerized by
her captivated by her eyes. She embraced me affectionately and welcomed me in. Her divine scent caressed
my entire body a sublime perfume I knew would stay on my skin until the moment I died.
As she ushered me inside the dining room, I obediently followed her and saw the table was set for two with
a bouquet of roses in the center and two lit candles. Through her satin blouse, every curve of her body
teased my eyes and every line burnished my desire as she walked into the kitchen. She slightly pulled the
oven door open and suddenly the tantalizing aroma of roasted beef filled the air. I wrestled open the wine
bottle and poured two glasses and handed her one. Overwhelmed by her call, her invitation, and the warm
reception, as we sipped the wine, I was looking for words powerful enough to compensate her graciousness.
She sensed my anxiety and touched my cold fingers with her warm ones to calm me down. I didn’t know
where to start and she didn’t show any sign indicating I should. I had nothing to say and she said nothing of
the past to validate my remorseful silence. Oh, only if all women of my life could be that considerate.
In a matter of minutes, the golden brown roast lurking in mushrooms, baby carrots, and red potatoes was
on the table. We sat and she served me salad. “This wine is great. The taste perfectly fits our evening.
Thank you.” I smiled. “I want us to start a new beginning, I have gone through a lot to prepare for tonight.
You can imagine how difficult it was for me to do this, but I did for our future.”My eyes fixated on the sizzling
roast to avoid the burden of regret. I was gradually beginning to taste the dream of a perfect evening in the
making. Every sip of wine I took was a trickle of fuel added to my fire. I was fantasizing her moments of pain
blended in my moments of pleasure, and so determined to perpetuate my sublime climax, engraved in her
divine surrender. She poured more wine, but it’d already performed its magic. Enchanted by her charm, I was
thrown into a state of trance, embracing my sweet moment of submission.
Then she gently reached for the carving knife and I admired her finesse in doing so, raised the blade
tenderly and paused as if she’d doubts about cutting the meat. Suddenly she raised the knife much higher
and twisted her wrist to shift the blade toward me. I was dazed by the two flickering flames, the reflections of
two lit candles in her dark eyes when she thrust the knife through my throat with no hesitation. Steaming
blood spewed out of my neck; she must’ve severed the main artery. Moments later that seemed an eternity
to me, she finally let go of the knife; it was securely stuck in the thick tissues of my throat. I still had the glass
of wine clutched in my fingers looking into her shining eyes. As well as she knew all my quirks, she sensed
my worry of getting blood in my wine and gently tapped on my fingers to calm me down. Then she carefully
removed the glass and placed it on the opposite end of the table as blood was raining on my plate.
She quietly finished her dinner as I gurgled and gasped for air before my head sunk to my chest. Blood
covered the entire table as she poured the remainder of the wine for each of us and savored hers. Silently I
watched her delicately removed a piece of meat from between her teeth with a toothpick, politely covering her
mouth with napkin as she did so. Before she pulled the knife from my throat, she just couldn’t resist downing
the remainder of my wine.
An old carpet rolled up in the corner just for this occasion, was spread next to my chair and I was gently
knocked over and cooperatively fell right onto the shroud. She straightened my feet and rolled me up. My
head was sticking out. She seemed a little irritated at first to learn I was taller than the width of the carpet. It
had been almost four years since we’d last seen each other. She gnawed her wine-stained lips, shrugging
her shoulders signifying “So what?” She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with ropes, expertly
looped them around the carpet and, tugged me into the hall.
She could’ve viciously grabbed my big ears and use them as handles to move my body but she didn’t. She
knew how much I despised it when my teachers twisted my ears to punish me. They turned red and hot and I
felt that shameful heat the entire day. Instead, she seized the other end of the carpet and pulled me toward
the basement until I reached to the first step. She then sat down, positioned her feet on my shoulders and
used the wall behind her for support, and shoved me down the dark stairs and took a deep breath as I safely
thud the ground. My head bumped on every step, fourteen times to be exact. The ground was already dug
and ready for my arrival. The dirt was neatly piled up along one side and a shovel stuck into dirt ready to
finish the job. She guided me into the grave and began to refill. I was buried in a matter of minutes and a
beautiful antique Persian rug covered the entire basement floor. She then placed the same mahogany desk
that I had given her as a present, right in the center of the pristine rug to revere our good times together.
After tending to me, she went upstairs and fixed up the dining room. She couldn’t sleep soundly if she
hadn’t cleaned everything properly. The carving knife, she washed by hand. She would never put such a
sharp item in the dishwasher! It was approaching 11 o’clock when she finally finished cleaning the mess and
the dishes. After taking a scorching hot shower and meticulously brushing her teeth, she tucked herself into
bed with a smile on her face, cherishing our perfect evening.