The Nakedness

A woman walks into a man's home naked.

 

Near an old highway, a dirt cheap place, that was modest at best and close to the lake where no one travels. A trail of bare feet were left imprinted on the ground. Where they came from, who's to know? The details are obscure but they lead to the very place where a man is sitting, comfortably resting on his couch.

A woman, a lady, lying naked on the floor, asleep... She looks dreadfully asleep. Deeply and bitterly asleep. I watch the contours of her flesh, admiring the beauty of sin.
"Gorgeous body," I whisper to myself.
She came to me abruptly, an hour ago.
I truncated the absence of our desires and fell for this woman, unintentionally in my apartment.

Her fists collided with my door until I answered. She was there. I didn't comprehend it, I didn't question it.
Instinct tells me I should have. Nonetheless, she whimpered upon stepping into my flat, stumbled and fell into the thick cushion of my carpet.
One could imagine the shock this brings to any straight-male. I was astonished too, completely dumb-struck, really.
I closed the front door and wondered what my next plan of action would be.
Since she got here I have pieced together these details

She was a brunette and had a vague, generic tattoo on her lower back; she has to be some kind of rebel—how original. Some kind of something extraordinaire. None of it was conclusive. All I had were the bare facts. I was thinking in all facts, none of this was imaginary. I slid my calloused fingers across her soft, fresh skin.

I didn't even have a phone, being out here all alone, fending for myself. I couldn't afford it on my meager wages as a blue collar worker doing odd jobs for the locals. No neighbors either. I made myself some hot tea. I needed something to warm my mind and mull this over.
I take my tea with milk and honey. I like the creaminess, the sweetness it provides. It was soothing and calmed me. I sat on my recliner watching the nude woman for awhile, feeling strange and out of place in my own home.
She was wonderfully shaped; she had fallen on her side, her arms interloped with the invisible carpet. Her waist was well rounded, breasts were round and shaped like petite upside down soup bowls.
Staring at her, drinking my tea it began to dawn on me to ask myself, "What kind of sick perverted b*****d am I, staring at a helpless nude girl?"
Then I asked myself, "What if someone was after her? Will they find me? What do they want?”

Holding, my teacup, I saw the liquid forming a small whirlpool, in sync with my trembling nerves.
"Should I call the police or not?"
I looked at her again and sighed, relieved to know she was still breathing. Her skin looked prickly; I decided she needs a blanket. I went to my linen closet and found a warm quilt; I inherited it from my mother. It was perfect.
Now I didn't have to stare at this damn naked girl.
She was stirring now…coming to her senses it seemed…
"Are you alright? Are you waking up?"
She moaned and yawned as if she were getting out of her very own bed. Her eyes were still closed, half asleep. Her arms streched upwards towards my empty ceiling.
Her eyes opened softly as if awakening from dreams. Her eyes were blue and I watched them for the first time, remarking to myself subconsciously how beautiful they made her look. She looked at me with curiosity and moved her mouth, about to speak, but made a face at me as if trying to conjure an image, a non-existent memory of something familiar about me.
I knelt down beside her, asking her how was she, who was she, where was she going? Her replies to me were nothing but blank stares. She then smiled at me, almost condescendingly; there was a glint of arrogance in her eyes. Her toes were wiggling from underneath the quilt.
"Won't you tell me who you are? I must know! Do you need help?" I pleaded.
She then got up and walked past me, briskly to the door.
"I will tell you this; I am neither man nor woman. I am nowhere but here, and I wasn't going anywhere. I fell onto your doorstep and I am all right. Thank you for asking."
"You can’t go. Please, stay.”
She sighed, "But I must. I really wish I could explain more, babe. I wish I came here to seduce you, but this is the extent of our relationship. Enjoy your tea, savor your last glance of me, and know that I loved the way you stared at me."
I was completely baffled. She walked out my door and left, walking naked on the highway. I thought about chasing her, but something told me it would be a worthless cause. I drank my tea, the last embrace of warmth I had.
I had to sit down. I needed to mull this over again. I shook my head, rubbed my temples and thought and thought. I was getting drowsy though. It was hard to stay awake. I couldn't keep these heavy eyelids open...

....and then he awoke, at the front door step of an attractive blonde woman's door. He knocked on her door three times. She opened and it was skin galore.
"A naked man!" she gasped with a peevish look.
He fell down unconscious, subtly aware of her stares....

Reviews

[Lightning Paw]

In my albeit brief tenure on this site, this is easily one of the more exquisite pieces I have come across thus far. Your astute apparaisal of the almost pathetic ridiculousness of the straight male psychology in a subtly absurd situation is something of a delight here. Moreover, your experimental approach to the structure of the narrative was pulled off with enough subtlety to maintain a surprise in the ending's role reversal.
Nice work.

[Loner]

I really enjoyed reading this. It was high in creativity and intelligent in language. A completely atypical story. I thought it was original, and well cultured. There is a wonderfully aesthetic tone. I'll look forward to reading more from you.

[OilsandSyntax]

I feel as though I've been plucked from my life and dripped into the pages of a Twilight Zone! Well done. Good write. Creative and sensual without an ounce of sex...not easy to do, but you did well.