Aurelius

The Wedding Reception

The stink of the seashore loomed heavily in the humid night air as Neverlin took another long swig from the bottle of blackberry wine. Smacking his lips, he slunk against the side of an abandoned warehouse. He strained to keep his eyes open as the soporific effects of the sweet liquor dulled his senses.  Normally, he did not condone drinking to excess, being a firm believer in keeping one’s facilities optimal.

But it had been a particularly tough week and the life he led now seemed a grim caricature of the one he envisioned.  So he sighed and indulged himself with another swallow.

“It’s called a blind spot.” 

Mandisa’s sour expression remained the same, Neverlin sighed.  Time was short and the concept complex, but he knew Mandisa required a more comprehensive explanation to ensure her participation. He must focus, but found himself distracted with the impudent Fenixx at Mandisa’s side.  It irked him terribly to watch this concupiscent jackal sniffing around the priestess.  The Herald had a taste for Tempests. Last week Sekhmitt, this week Mandisa…next week who knows, perhaps Satet-Ka. Neverlin wondered briefly if Mandisa would cave to the demon’s steady stream of smooth lines and juvenile innuendos.  He blocked the thought from his mind and breathed deeply, setting to his task.