by Richard Rawlins
The tyres on the
vehicle bumpity bumped their way upon the grooved in roadway of the state
funded circumvented enclosures of political prosperity and working class
despise. Here upon this hilltop in a rejuvenated Paramin of almost Ramon
Navarroesque yesteryear except for the hidden trap guns of ganja farmers,
agricultural wooden toolsheds and crocus bag scarecrows, I saw her.
I saw her. The huge obesity of a woman. Indian in
all her glory. Her foot black from traversing the sturdy concrete road. Solid
in frame like an oak tree in a Yankee Christmas movie. A large ass. wide and
big and dropping and fat and very obese. Oh largese. Breast swinging, unchained
and un-trapped and free and bra less, without concern. Nipples forcing a point
in their sweaty tunic of a dress. laden with flowers, clinging to her shiny
greasy skin in the noon day heat. Then her matted-hair head raised as we saw
her. “Good day”, my gay friend and his Indian indecisive roadtrip companion
said in unison. “Good day”, she replied. “Good day”, I said looking longingly
like I wanted to be face deep in those huge thighs. Panty less I thought as her
body shifted slightly to reveal in
the monstrous shadow she casted
that ran the length of the scratched out red dirt front yard all the way to her little board
and galvanize home just edging the bamboo, a child. A “lickle” grubbiness of a
child. A dougla. A child no more than three playing in dirt with a stick and a
pan. With a kind of white dry
milky ring around his mouth. How mundane I thought . What an exsistence…but
then that is youth isn’t?. Carefree.
“Let me out here
please…” I said to my friends. “Why?” said my gay friend with the semi possibly
gay and indecisive Indian roadtrip companion. “Because I think I love her.” I
countered. “What the fuck ‘rong
wid’ you?!!” the indecisive Indian shouted. “Jus fuckin’ so…like you mad or
wat?” At that point I opened the door and decided to get out the vehicle. My
gay friend steuppesed. mumbled something as I left the car and pulled the car
over to the side of the road next to the bamboo patch adjacent to the squalid
abode.
I approached the
huge obesity of my sexual arousal and now growing physical and mental curiosity
questioning in my mind what I was about to do. I approached her she smiled at
me. “Hi“ I said. “Hello” she replied flashing me a smiling row of crooked yellow coloured teeth. “Can I fuck
you?”, I said.
The smile gone from
her face her black lips curled in disbelief and she spat out at me. “Mister like
you ent see meh chile dey.”
“ Sorry”, I
responded, staring at her pendulous breast that seemed slightly wet from sweat
and maybe lactation. “My mistake”, and headed for the car.
“Wait!!! , we could
go inside and fuck if yuh like. My mister doh come home til later.
And the boy he kinda
behbeh he not go go nowhere.” “Come nuh”, motioning me inside as she began
raising up the back of the old tattered dirty frock
business of a dress revealing her big black dimpled mosquito pockmarked ass.
“Ok”. I said,
“sure”.
“But wait”, she
said, “you have eighty three dollars and seven cents?”
THE END
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