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. Astounded, I 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 evening together.”

    I was dead on time when I knocked on her door. A few
anxious moments passed with no response. I waited a little
with stirred-up emotions and knocked a little harder. The
rhythmic melody of her footsteps cuddled my ears and when
she opened the door, I was captivated by her eyes.  She
embraced me and her divine scent caressed my entire soul,
a sublime aroma bound to stay on my skin until the moment
I died.

    Silently I followed her lead inside. In the dining room 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 pranced into the kitchen. She slightly opened
the oven door and suddenly aroma of roasted beef
inundated 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
elegant enough to compensate her graciousness. She
sensed my anxiety and tapped 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 remorse. Oh, only if all women of my life were that
    In a matter of minutes, the golden brown roast lurking in
mushrooms, baby carrots, and red potatoes was on the
table. 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 so, but I did it for our future.”

    I lowered my gaze to the sizzling roast not only to avoid
the burden of regret but to bask in the reverie of the perfect
evening in the making.  Every sip of wine I took was a trickle
of fuel added to my burning desire. I was fantasizing her
moment 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. Then
she raised the blade to her eye level, twisted her wrist to
shift the knife toward me.  I was dazed by the two flickering
flames, the reflections of two lit candles in her dark eyes
when she swiftly thrust the razor sharp blade through my

    Steaming blood spewed out of my neck; she must’ve
severed the main artery.  Moments later that seemed an
eternity, 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 between my fingers gazing into her shining eyes.
As well as she knew all my quirks, she sensed my concern
about getting blood in my wine and gently tapped on my
lifeless fingers to calm me down. Then she carefully
removed the glass from my grip and placed it on the
opposite end of the table as blood was raining on my plate.
We exchanged no words during dinner.

    She finished her plate as I gurgled and gasped for air
before my head sunk to my chest. The entire tablecloth was
drenched in blood when she poured the remainder of the
wine for each of us and savored hers. I watched her
delicately remove a tiny shred of meat from between her
teeth with a toothpick, politely covering her mouth with
napkin. Before she pulled the knife from my throat, she just
couldn’t resist downing the remainder of my wine.

    In a matter of minutes, a rolled up old carpet in the
corner of the room set aside for this occasion was spread
next to my chair and I was delicately knocked over and fell
right onto the shroud. She straightened my feet and rolled
me up to learn my head was sticking out. At first she
seemed a little irritated to see I was taller than the width of
the carpet. It’d 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 drag my corpse but she didn’t.
She knew how much I despised it when my teachers twisted
my ears to punish me in school. 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 standing up in the dirt anxious to conclude the
affair.  She adjusted me in the grave and began to refill.

    I was buried in a matter of minutes and an 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
memories of 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.