Listen to my voice

Listen to my voice. Listen to the sound of my voice.

Leda began her hair color ritual in the usual way. She carefully laid out the tools of her trade on the bathroom sink and the top of the commode. Being a small bathroom there was not much space but Leda made do within her sanctuary. Hair color, towels, mirror, comb, gloves, check. Now Leda was ready. Using a wide tooth comb she divided her thick unruly curls into sections applying even amounts of color first to her roots then all the way through to the ends. Pulling the comb through her mane Leda envisioned Radu’s well groomed hands entangling themselves within the kinks and knaps of mother Africa all the while gently massaging her scalp and kissing the nape of her neck. Leda massaged the remaining color through her tangled tresses then set the timer for 25 minutes walking the short distance to her bedroom to meditate while the process worked its magic.

During the 25 minutes of meditation Leda visualized her lover Radu sitting next to her on the bed speaking softly and gently in his Eastern European accent all the while kissing her brows, the bridge of her nose and finally her lips. She could feel the bristle of his closely manicured beard against her face all the while falling into a deep blend of olive skin intermingled from Slavic, Romanian, Turkish and Macedonian blood lines. From his lips issued the voices of ancient Kings worshipping the Queens of Africa, Sheba and Candace.

He sometimes stopped to look deeply into her eyes mentally willing the both of them to become one flesh.

Suddenly the buzz of the timer interrupted her reverie and off she went to turn on the shower preparing to rinse out the excess color treatment. As Leda stepped under the powerful flow of the water Radu’s spirit stepped in with her and they were transported to the thunder of Caribbean waterfalls, enveloped in thunder of the cascading streams. Radu’s hands were like the streams of water entering into every sensitive place of her temple. She could feel his lips and hands as they worked their way down from her neck, breasts to that soft mound of flesh above her pubic area where he loved to rest his head after a night of lovemaking. Water and color ran down over all the nooks and crannies of her curves.

Ring, ring, ring, the sound of the phone brought Leda out of her fantasy and quickly toweled off and managed to answer before the machine kicked in.

“Ello Layda. I just arrived at JFK. Taking a taxi to your place. See you in a few minutes.”

Leda rejoiced. Her fantasy was about to become real. Her Lover was almost home. Her thoughts wandered to a romantic tryst in the hot tub at their friends chalet.