Hundredth

Her brows are sweaty and she is licking her lips. She looks nervous I can sense it. She moves her hand in her hair and then slowly brings it down to her neck and adjusts her necklace. I ogle at her long slender neck with defined bones. I can’t take my eyes from it. I am in love again. Yes she is it. She will be my hundredth. How can I not take her? How do I let her go?

 I was tempted to cross the road, grab her in my arms, touch her soft face, slowly caress her neck and then break it, twist it, choke her till she stops breathing. Just the thought of that neck slowly dying in my hand is giving me a high that no drugs have ever given me. I start crossing the road, whistling to myself. I still can’t believe my luck of finding her alone in this deserted lane.

Suddenly a car stops in front of her and she hops in it too quickly. Even before I could blink the car starts moving.

I thought of running after it but then stop and smile. This has become more fun now. It was far too easy like this. There is no bigger rush than the chase of the prey. I write down the number of the car in my mobile and whistle loudly again.

“I hope you enjoy your last night sweetheart. I know I will”

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.