Chimera Fields oh, fortune fortune

[table width=85%][tr][td]

The man obliges her unspoken wishes as if he could glimpse inside her mind and read her like the pages of a book. This feeling, that she was not alone to shoulder the weight of her burdens, was simply excellent. Kitsch didn’t even need to speak the words because he read them so clearly, obviously fluent in the language of Kitsch’s wants and needs… still she told him everything, her entire life’s story, but her mouth did not speak; her mind formulated the words but somewhere in the purgatory between brain and mouth they became lost, transposed. It was a happy loss and Kitsch reveled in the inanimation of her mind, enjoying the clear expanse that existed when all of the emotional cluttered was removed. 

Kitsch had achieved some sort of meta-consciousness who was able to think clearly despite the fogginess of her body.  From this height, Kitsch could see that she was not in the right state, knew that she was becoming too dizzy and too blinded from the brightness of her own light. She wondered if, perhaps, she had taken too much of the poppy — maybe a whole poppy was too much for a woman of her size and virtue, inexperienced in these sorts of delinquent things. She was better than that, better than this — better than being fondled and besmirched by this, this stranger! 

All too quickly he threw himself on top of her, shattering her facade of sublimity and perfectness. The dove knew this motion, this feeling of a man’s weight on top of her… and though she wasn’t a virgin, she had only been with one other man and her [semblance of] wholesomeness still something quite sacred to her. Kitsch was a girl brought up to believe that she was the pinnacle of creation — the pearl of their days, they had called her —  and somewhere deep in her brain the flood of serotonin told her everything would be okay; but Kitsch’s outward senses told her that she was in danger and her heart began to flutter out of control. “no…” came her wistful aria, and she peered up at him with swimming, powerless eyes as her dream transformed into some unearthly sort of nightmare. “no…” she whispered again as he settled himself on top of her, beseeching him demurely, and she cursed herself for inability to stop this act. Where were her guards? He would surely be executed for this treason! But just as her guards were not there to protect her, she could not protect herself.  His arms swept around and underneath her and pulled her small body up into his. The pale girl shut her eyes and grit her teeth the best she could, but her strength was fleeting and Kitsch found that she was not in control of her facial nerves anymore and soon her mouth fell slack jawed, eyes shut just barely, forced to watch her obscured reality shattered at the behest of a complete stranger. 

[/td][/tr][/table]