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.