A Small Voice

A small voice in my whispers, “But it’s real.”

My head says, “It’s not possible. You’ll be fooled like all of those times before.”

Energy flows through my body, tender aches wishing he were here, wanting to wrap myself around him. Wish I could unwrap a bit of his mystery.

My heart beats as my soul pulls and rattles in my chest. My lips remember how it feels to taste him.

My left hand feels a strong, surging energy around it.

The room is quiet, except for my short pants of breath in the night air.

A brief image flashes through my mind; strong hands caressing my chest and stomach. My hunger is stirred further.

Through our brief text conversation, I’m pulled back into present reality. I see you are wrapped into your own world. I realized that you never really saw me at all.

I know my soul is connected to another. I feel the connection grow stronger every day. He wants to find me too. Someday, I’ll find him.

I'll see him and he'll see me.

Cracked Ice - Part 2

“CRACKED ICE” - Part 2 by Leora Tozer © 2013

I entered the office and saw Leo standing by what will be my desk. He’s smiling, and says to Art, “Did you find the new temp?”

“Yes, I think so. What’s your name?” Art asked.

“I’m Leora Benson,” I replied; then, I held out my hand.

Art beamed, “Yes; another Benson.”

 Leo shakes my hand and asks, “Nice to meet you. Hope you’ll be here a while longer than our last secretary.”

“Thank you Mr. Archer. I don’t know how long the temp agency will want me here,” I replied. As we talked, I calculated mentally that Leo is 46 and Art is 45, but neither man looks their age.

They explained that the letters in the hall and in a file cabinet all need to be organized and answered. I looked at a few, and decided it’s easier to sort them by who they are to and when they were sent.

It will take a while to sort through, but my mind quickly mapped the next steps. It would be easy to figure out a few templates that could be personalized for each answer. After that, they could be typed up fairly efficiently on the Underwood typewriter.

While I was sorting the letters, I sensed someone was watching me. Leo walked over, stood next to my desk and asked, “Do you want to go out on the town after work?”

“No thanks,” I answered. “You know, if you keep asking the secretaries out, you won’t have anyone left in town to answer all these letters.”

I thought I heard muffled laughter from the closed office nearest to my desk. Leo replied, “That’s fine. It doesn’t hurt a fellow to ask.”

He went back to his office and I kept sorting the letters. After an hour or so, Leo and Art left the office for the day. It was quiet and I still wasn’t sure who was in the main office by my desk, since the door was shut and no one had come out of there since I arrived.

After they left, I was sorting some of Leo’s letters. I found one from well-known gangster stating that Leo owed him money, and that he was going to be stopping by if he didn’t receive payment in 30 days. I looked at the date the letter was written and quickly realized that today was 30 days later.

I was trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly, two burly guys in pinstriped suits came in the office. I turned on the intercom and covered it with some letters, not certain that anyone was in the other office. Both men wore fedora hats and walked towards my desk. The main tough guy asks, “Is Leo here?”

“No, Mr. Archer isn’t here.” I reply.

“Where is he?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” I answer.

“Why don’t you know?” he pressed.

“It’s my first day working here. Why would anyone tell the temp where they’re going?” I stated. “I can take down your name and contact information, so Mr. Archer can get back to you.”

“Nah,” he answered. “I’ll find him tomorrow.” The two fellows left.

The door closed. I shut off the intercom.

The office door that had been closed opened and a serious man in a nice suit came out. When he spoke, I was taken aback, because even without his stage makeup, I’d know that voice anywhere. I’ve heard him in so many movies.

He said, “Sorry you had to deal with that. Leo didn’t say anything about this.”

I handed Henry the letter I had found. “I’m sure he forgot. I just found this letter. Why didn’t the last secretary give this letter to him?”

 Henry smiled, “Leo was too busy messing around with her. It’s nice to know that won’t be a problem.”

“Would you mind if I leave early after that friendly visit?” I asked.

Henry had a look of concern cross his face, “You could wait a bit and I could drive you home. Maybe they’re still out there.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t think they’ll bother me, since I didn’t know anything.” I replied. I had a gut feeling from their behavior that they needed to go and check with their boss before they did anything else. “What time did you want me here tomorrow?” I asked.

Henry joked, “Earlier than today.”

“Next time you’ll need to hire a clairvoyant if you want someone here before being hired.” I teased back. Henry gave me a disarming smile. I clarified, “So, 7 or 8 am?”

“You can be here at 7, but I won’t be here until 8,” Henry answered.



To be continued...

Fiction: Strange World

I received a call from my boss on my day off. “Roxie,” he barked. “You were requested and I’m short-staffed. I need you here by 12.”

I sighed to myself, as I quickly packed my work clothes into a bag. I took a last look in the mirror as I zipped up my shiny black leather high heeled boots.

I arrived there quickly. I slipped into the locker room and changed into the required outfit. I slipped off my bleach blonde wig and arranged my long brown hair into a bun. I slipped on my glasses, grabbed my knitting bag and went into the work room.

I sat down in the rocking chair, rocked slowly and started a new row on a pale blue baby blanket. I waited a few minutes and looked up from my knitting. A baby boy with blonde hair and blue eyes was crawling towards me.

I set my knitting back down into the knitting bag. I could see the cameras in the corner of my eye as I reached down and picked up the baby at my feet. It always amazed me at how light the baby feels when I lift him into my lap.

I started to adjust my top and noticed that this baby didn’t immediately reach for my chest like the other babies do. He seemed to be studying my face. I pushed that thought out of my mind, as I lowered the flap for the nursing bra and moved the baby’s head towards my left breast. The baby suckled and drank while I softly caressed his hair.

The baby’s reached out and placed its right hand onto my breast. A flood of memories washed over me, immersing me in the life I’ve been trying so hard to forget since I arrived here.

I saw three blonde-haired children walking on a hill; two girls and a boy were laughing and running ahead of me. I remember the peace and joy of watching them enjoy the sunlight. How free and innocent the world was then.

My heart ached with the memory. I held back the tears and took slow, deep breaths of air, so that the cameras wouldn’t be able to pick up on my thoughts. I looked down at the baby, and lifted him to my shoulder, patting his back. I quickly switched the flaps of the nursing bra, and moved the baby to my right breast.

I rocked the baby as it appeared to drink. I could tell this one was different, he didn’t seem to relish my nipple or breasts like the other babies here do. I felt slightly uneasy as I looked down at him. He moved his arm and covered his face slightly as he nursed.

Our time was up, and the nursery assistant came to take the baby out of my lap. I refastened the nursing bra and my blouse, picked up my knitting bag and stood up. I went to the main office to ask my boss if there were more appointments scheduled for me. He said there wasn’t, and I could go home.

I went back to the locker room and changed out of my work outfit, which was a white blouse, a long knit skirt and sneakers. “He must have offered more a double rate to ask me to come in today,” I thought to myself as I washed the milk off of my skin. I am always careful to wash all evidence of my job off of me before I go out into the street. The girls who haven’t followed these rules have disappeared; the rumors at work are that they are killed or kidnapped by former clients.

The great danger of this job is that you never recognize your clients once you leave here. The machine that makes the grown men into babies has never been fully explained to me; however, when we are in that room, they feel, act and smell just like a real baby. While I never asked to come here, I figured I have to try to survive, if only to prevent other women from being kidnapped, taken away from their children, and made to do this demeaning form of sex work.

I slip on my tight black dress and zip up my thigh-high, high heeled boots. I have to dress as all the women do in the city, to blend in. I move my brown hair up and slip the blonde wig back onto my head. I slip on a pair of prescription sunglasses and reapply my red lipstick.

I throw my canvas bag over my shoulder and walk out of the building. As I walk down the street, a tall man bumps into my shoulder. I barely look up and say, “Excuse me.”

He softly, kindly replies, “Forgive me.” His tenor voice echoes through my heart in a strange way, so I look up. His blue eyes looked in kind recognition at me. I can’t remember the last time anyone had looked at me with such a gentle compassion.

He softly commands, “We have to keep walking. Come with me.” His hand gently grips my elbow and a flood of images of sunlight and laughter nearly stops me cold. My legs felt weak, but I take a deep breath and force myself to walk. I hide my trembling hands in my jacket pockets while I look forward blankly.

After walking a couple of blocks, I ask, “Am I being kidnapped?”

He smiles and whispers, “You don’t remember. You were kidnapped 3 years ago.”

I didn’t remember exactly how, but I knew what this stranger said was true. I knew I didn’t belong in this world and that every day I stayed here, a part of me slowly died.

We kept walking he looked quickly around, and carefully pushed me into the alley with him. There was a black car with tinted windows waiting there for us. I was still in a state of shock as he lifted me into the backseat and climbed in after me. He shut the door and knocked on the tinted window between the back seat and the driver. The car jumped into gear and turned into the street.

I tried to look out of the window, but it was too dark for me to see anything. I felt confused and tired, and I could hear him say, “It’s alright; you’re safe now,” as I suddenly fell to sleep.

Labor day weekend

I just came back from a walk and this evening the air feels like fall. It seemed like summer had barely started and fall is now here. 

It's Labor Day weekend here in the US, and it's been very quiet this Sunday. The kids are all looking forward to school, and I feel immobilized lately. It's as if I can't move forward, I don't want to move backwards, so I'm stuck, frozen in time.

My heart feels serene, self-aware and self-assured - but yet a bit unsettled. Maybe it's different things I'm feeling tremors from; events in the world and nearby that make things seem like there are a lot of changes, and they don't all seem good or positive. It's puzzling, but I admit that perhaps I'm not meant to know the answer.

I wonder if others feel this way as well...