Livid.

Livid.

A Story by Ms. Spriggs
"

A small bit from a novel I'm writing.

"

"Are you ready?" Avdotya asked with a wide smile, her nails tapping on the bar mischievously. She exteneded her legs to the bottom rung of our hero's chair, staring into his eyes and waiting for an answer.

 

Kenton sighed. "Let's just be done with it."

 

As had done before, Avdotya held his hand while he closed his eyes. He felt himself being sucked through some sort of vacuum.

 

When he opened them, he found himself on the roof of the palace under a hot summer sun. Before him was some great kingly looking man, fanned by scantily dressed women holding palm leaves. In the middle of it all was Avdotya, whispering in the king's ear as the businessmen had done to the sniper. She lowered her hand on the king's thigh, rubbing him gently and all the while looking toward Kent and winking.

 

The king himself smiled and looked across the roof to a house nearby. As the sand from the wind settled back into the desert, a beautiful, slender woman bathed naked. As she sat in the warm water, she exhaled in relief of the torturous sun, relaxing her limbs with her long brown hair and closing her eyes. The ladies were giggling and talking amongst themselves as the king looked on without shame, Avdotya's promiscous hand pressing further up his thigh.

 

"Leave me, now." The king announced to his surrounding women. They at once bowed and gingerly left the the roof.

 

Kenton himself was surprised he understood what the king was saying. It was neither English nor Russian, he very well knew, even though it translated in his mind. He thought it sounded like some ancient dialect, Hebrew or otherwise. He had to be somewhere in the Middle East.

 

The king arose after the roof had been cleared with the exception of Avdotya and himself.  Avdotya sat on the rooftop throne as the king walked to the edge of his palace and looked out over roof to see the woman. Now he himself touched his own groin as he watched the woman rub herself in oils, her skin shining and soft in the daylight. He moaned and sighed, walking back to his seat and ringing a bell.

 

A small servant came, clad in leather armor, kneeling in front of the king. He motioned for the servant to stand.

 

"I want you to find out who that woman is, over there, and bring her to me." His gentle yet stately voice carried through the thick, humid air.

 

"Sir is that not Bathsheba, Uriah's wife?" His innocence and fear made his voice tremble.

 

"I do not care who she is! Bring her to me NOW!"

 

The servant bowed once again and left. Avdotya walked over to Kenton.

 

"His passion burns with a fire." She laughed to herself and continued. "Now close your eyes again."

 

Our hero closed them. Once open he found himself within palace walls, the king once again in front of him. As he paced back and forth, three men were on their knees before him.

 

"Send Uriah to the front lines of battle and test his loyalty to me."

 

This time Kenton did not close his eyes but instead blacked out for a moment and came to. They were in some other part of palace, the beautiful woman now clothed in a long silken robe next to the king.

 

As the king placed his hand on Bathsheba's thigh, giddy with desire, an old man stood before him wearing a large fur of some massive animal. A small baby in a cradle was next to the throne.

 

"You were rich and you stole from the poor. The Lord has grave punishment set before you, and your child shall surely die. You have incited the wrath of God, who gave you much when you had little. Now one of your sons will sleep with all of your wives publicly, and you will be humiliated." The old man bowed after his forboding statement, leaving the great stone palace.

 

The king's face was red with anger. He stood up and threw Bathsheeba to the ground as she writhed in tears. The king stood over the lump of tears and silk and flesh. Kenton gasped and turned his head away when he heard loud cries and moans, his stomach gripping him. Avdotya came over and put her hand on Kent's shoulder, telling him to turn around and watch, for what was done was to be done. He would never understand if he did not turn around.

 

Sobbing and taking big breaths, Kenton turned around to see the wife send out sickening cries as the king's large hands grasped the infant's neck. The infant, however, was already dead, and Kenton could not remember ever having heard the child cry.

 

It simply passed away. A small eight pounds of flesh to take on the sins of another.

 

"Have you seen enough?" Avdotya asked.

 

The tears had dried on poor Kenton's face. "Please get me away from here."

 

© 2008 Ms. Spriggs


Author's Note

Ms. Spriggs
This is a little bit of a novel I'm attempting to write. I like to call my main character endearing names such as "our hero" or "our sovereign man" and such so appy polly loggies if that is confusing.

2 Samuel 11 if you want the real story.

OH. and. I don't think Humor & Satire should be put under the same genre. No justice here on the WC.

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Subtle and surreal. I could paint this and that is I hope an indication of how good I think it is.

Posted 12 Years Ago



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Added on June 18, 2008
Last Updated on June 18, 2008

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Ms. Spriggs
Ms. Spriggs

NY, Azerbaijan



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A Story by Ms. Spriggs