The Gypsy's Song

I crouched behind the large crates that were sparsely positioned in the murky alleyway.  The wind teased at my hair, drying my eyes and forcing me to blink.

"Damn," I muttered, knowing I'd be there much longer then I'd hoped.  My muscles ached from remaining in the position for far too many hours- too many to be to my liking.

A stray cat, eyes glowing in the near pitch  black alley, skittered past me.  It whined loudly further away from where I was positioned, where the light from the main street winked in, but that was the last I heard of the animal.

Why had he sent me here? I could be in the nearby tavern, enjoying a mug of ale.  Instead, I was sitting next to some dusty boxes.

The back door creaked open.   Finally.  Man and woman slipped out, young foolish lovers, that fact was undoubtedly true.  He picked her up and swung her in a circle around him, their cruedly stiffled laughter echoing around my head.  He pressed her against the side of the building and kissed her lustfully.  Then, I looked away.  They weren't whom I'd been waiting for.

The tavern owner, Trylira, a beautiful woman with hair like the finest polished jewels... eyes with more depth then the nearby ocean...

I snapped out of it.  She was my victim, not one to swoon over.  I wondered absently if I'd be able to seduce the woman.  It should be an easy task, for she was mysterious but not too smart.  Aye, she'd be easy indeed.

*  *  *

Trylira's eyes were caught immediately by the man, his own cold, dark eyes were locked onto her form as soon as he'd stepped through the door.  Another arrogant one who thinks he'll be able to win the dumb tavern owner, she thought.  She'd seen the case before, and it was always her who'd benefited from it. 

This story (c) Emily Kirsch, 2000.  Even though it's not finished... don't take it.  Thank ya, have a squeaky clean day.