by Clara Zane
Ingrid stood on the balcony, surveying the backyard. That
hunk of a pool boy had cleaned the pool, and it shone like a blue crystal. She
relished the slight cool breeze that cascaded around her, drying the beads of
sweat she'd worked up in a vigorous love-making session with Max, who still lay
content in bed. As always, it had been a cathartic experience for her, erasing
the memory of last night's one-night stand, and for him, wiping the slate clean
from a tryst with his mistress.
Both knew the other wasn't faithful, just as they knew they
still loved each other completely. As long as they didn't bring up their shared
infidelity, that ugly Green-Eyed Monster wouldn't strike. Besides, their
unspoken make-up sex, which always took place late the next morning, was too
damn hot, and neither wanted to compromise that.
Her gaze shifted from the shimmering pool to her tree-lined
rose garden. Maybe she'd stroll through later that afternoon after the sun sunk
a bit. For now she'd simply enjoy being on the balcony.
"Ingrid, who's Jeremy?" Max called from the bed.
"Was he your lay last night?"
She froze. He was. How would Max know? Why would he ask?
Something moved in the rose garden. Something big, though
she couldn't tell what. It staggered through the bushes, coming towards the
house. The thorns had to dig into its flesh, but it didn't make a sound, at
least as far as she could hear. What the hell was it?
"Ing?"
"Why do you ask, Max?" Though she was sure she
didn't want to know the answer.
He didn't answer right away, and when he did, she sensed his
hesitancy. "That's what you called me. Jeremy. When you were deepest in
your throes."
Crap. She'd never done that before. Jeremy had been good,
but not the best. And certainly not better than Max, not by a long shot. He
certainly hadn't been worth calling out for, so why had she done it? But the
damage was done; she heard the hurt in Max's voice.
The thing in the rose garden burst through, and Ingrid's
breath froze in her chest. A big, hairy beast, tinted green, sprinted towards
the house. Saliva dripped down its oversized jaw onto its chest. It turned its
misshapen head up to her, and she gasped at the bright emerald eyes. The thing
dashed around the back patio towards the side of the house, where she knew the
garage door was unlocked, not to mention a few open windows. Nothing would stop
the thing from getting in.
"Ingrid?" Max called. "Talk to me." A
tiny dose of anger joined the hurt.
She sighed and walked into the bedroom. They needed to hash
this out. She didn't know much about the Green-Eyed Monster, but she did know
it would eat them alive. If they didn't get rid of it right away, it would be
the death of them.
Metaphor takes shape! Nice… well, not so nice, but you know what I mean, right?
ReplyDelete(jealous because I don't have my FridayFlash written yet) :-P
Nice use of the metaphor green eyed monster - this does sound like a relationship that is doomed in the end I think.
ReplyDeleteHa I like the way you actualised the monster from metaphor to flesh
ReplyDeleteFantastic literalness Clara! You portrayed the atmosphere very well.
ReplyDeleteI think once Max catches sight of that monster his jealousy will probably be replaced by another emotion...
ReplyDeleteI like how you threw us right into the truth of their infidelities. I can't imagine how they could salvage their relationship.
ReplyDeleteAwesome twist. Many thanks for stopping by my blog and leaving a comment. It's much appreciated.
ReplyDeleteI loved the green eyed monster. As I was reading and it first was rustling the bushes, I was wondering, how can she still be focussed on her sex life with something coming at her then the penny dropped. Somehow I had read the title and not made the link but deduced it by her reactions lol. Either way I really liked it .
ReplyDeleteNice use of the monster for this story. If's one of the things that can creep into every relationship, it the partners let it. Lucky for him, she's ready to deal with it. I just hope he's ready.
ReplyDeleteMy first thought was that the critter in the bushes was Jeremy, then that Jeremy was an alien and maybe that was why she had shouted his name, and then the metaphor came into clear view. Well cone.
ReplyDeleteIt's all fun and games until someone loses an eye. Then it's a sport.
ReplyDeleteIn this case, it's going to be a blood sport, I think.