Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Paul Beckman


The noise in the closet keeps me awake. It’s not a noise I recognize so I call the desk clerk. He comes up to my room in quick time.
He knocks; I open the door as wide as his eyes looking at me in my shorty night gown. “Do you hear the noise? Do you?” I ask.
He won’t be afraid of a little noise. He looks like the captain of a football team.
“I’m sure it’s nothing—maybe the old boards creaking.”
At my urging he moves the desk chair next to the bed and sits, arms folded, eyes closed as I try without result to fall asleep.
After a while I say, “Lay down in the bed with me so I’ll be able to fall asleep.”

The shorty nightgown rises up from my movements in her bed. She takes my hand and rests her head on my shoulder and throws her leg and arm over me. I lift the blanket and see her bare ass and put my hand on its smoothness. She moans and burrows into me.

My erection’s so big I expect a round of applause. (Oh, the mind of a man!). I open my eyes and see her sitting on the bed watching me as I wake, exposed and embarrassed.
“I feel safe now,” I tell him and watch him struggle zipping up.
After he leaves I hear the noise in the closet again and think, Oh no, I’m not falling for that again.

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