The Sorcerer’s Wife
Our writhing bodies glistened with perspiration when her husband stormed in on us. Most betrayed husbands would savagely behead the passionate lovers with a sword.
Not the evil Sorcerer. No, he denied me the most exquisite finale of all; death in her wanting arms.
Sorcerer tossed a sparkling mystic powder. A dust cloud of his evil potion instantly transformed his wife into a doe. Frightened, Isabella sprang from the bed and leapt out an open window.
A wave of his magic wand and he transformed me as well.
Now, the Sorcerer’s wife grazes in the serene forest. Isabella moves with a familiar elegance, sleek and forever graceful. More enticing than before.
Here I lurk, forever watching; still desiring her.
Sorcerer converted me into a cold calculating predator; the most loathsome of creatures. The hyena. Now, I am a merciless scavenger longing to devour my prey.
There she is, here I am.
Beauty and the heartless beast.
For years I coveted the Sorcerer’s wife. I longed to be one with her, to possess her, to make her mine.
Oh, the bittersweet irony.
As foul spittle drips from my restless fangs, I crave her even more.
Photo from Pinterest.