| Romance- Aquilae Stilus, 1998 Contemplatively, Lowell watched the world through the eyes of a goldfish. Light was disconnected from its source, colors were blurred and confusing, and motion seemed sudden and frightening. He willed it all to fade away. Just vanish, and let him be still and quiet. The room around him seemed so huge. His eyes darted from the gigantic posies on the wallpaper to the slow creaking opening of a door. He blinked, his mouth opening and closing methodically. One of those big human tihngs was approaching, staring straight at him, leaning in to peer close. Go away. Get your ugly-ass face away from my territory. It lifted one brutish, thick finger and pointed toward him. Don't tap on the glass. Don't tap on the glass. The finger thudded briskly against the edge of the goldfish bowl. "Lowell, quit watching me through your water glass, for Christ's sake." He hesitated, lifting his head and lowering the now fogged glass. The condensation had been intruding on his fish-world, anyway. The world was still blurred, shapes huge and looming, colors melding into each other like some exotic dance as Geri went to the fridge to get her own water. "And put on your glasses," she added around the rim of her glass. He fumbled for them, slipping them back onto his nose. Ah. The mammalian world, clear and precise once more. "Can I help you?" he asked formally. She rolled her eyes. "Well I invited you over, didn't I? Obviously I didn't want you to just find a new location for your fish fantasies." "Not fantasies," he corrected. "Aspirations." "Whatever," she chuckled, shaking her head. He folded his hands behind his head, leaning back in the chair and propping his feet on the kitchen table. "So, what service may I provide you, fair maiden?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "You want to play knight and naughty damsel again?" She groaned. "I hate you. Now be serious for a minute." "I am being serious. It's a fun game." "Lowell-" "Or would you rather play strip tag? Tag, you're naked-" She shook her head. "I swear, there must be cult somewhere looking for you. You could be their religious leader." He grinned. "I could be their Rasputin. All blondes line up on one side, all brunettes on the other-" "Will you shut up and listen to me?" she shrieked finally. He sat back, falling quiet. "Wow, this must be serious." "It is." She curled her fingers into fists. "Michael Price asked me out, and I told him I already have a boyfriend." "Let me guess. You're dating Rick, that guy who you thought had a unique Austin Powers-y style, but it turned out he just liked frilly shirts?" Her shoulders slumped. "No. I told him I was dating you... exclusively." "I never thought anyone could sink that low." "I know, I know, I'm sorry," she wailed, covering her face with her hands. "No, actually, I'm flattered. I just mean, being so desperate for a faux boyfriend that you'd choose me over Michael Price." Her eyes flashed. "What's wrong with calling you my boyfriend?" "Only the fact that my first and only girlfriend forced me to stop calling her by holding my cat hostage." "There were only blanks in the gun." "I know, but it looked pretty damn real to me, and Pooky didn't take it so well." Continue |