Benadryl
by Elizabeth P. Glixman
If she told him that she hated the shrimp scampi he
ordered her for dinner, he would be angry. Maybe leave the restaurant.
He would definitely not sleep with her later that night in the
suite she reserved for them on the twentieth floor of the hotel. She
needed to have his arms around her, to ease the places that her job
had ruffled and she had worn all day as badges of misery.
She needed to feel his breath follow the rim of her
lips and his tongue search this emptiness. It had been an awful day at
work. She lost two of her major accounts this morning, the ad
campaign for Schwimmer's Restaurants and the TV shots for Ambien
sleeping pills.
She looked at him. She could see the curly hair on
his chest inside his flimsy polyester shirt. She could see wiry strands
creep like vines up his neck and his hands were covered in
a fine dark moss. She found him attractive in this jungle. He was
someone she would not bring to her office parties. He was only what she wanted tonight. In a dark room.
Should she tell him she disliked seafood, was
allergic to most of it especially shrimp? Or should she risk it and wait for
the hives to appear one by one like inflated beach balls in the sea?
She had never died from her allergy before. Isn't that obvious. She
laughed a windchime sound. He didn't hear. He was looking
at the veal parmigana their neighbors were eating. She wondered if he
thought he should have ordered prime rib.
She stuck her hand in her pocketbook making sure she
had her antihistamines. Her doctor said go no where with out them.
As she looked at him across the candle lite table
she wondered if he had ever done an at home hair removal treatment or gone
to an electrolysist. It must be hard for his housekeeper to
vacuum up all the stray hairs, both his and his dog's. Hair fascinated her.
Oh, go for it she thought as the maitre d' placed the pinkish
shrimp in front of her. She popped an antihistamine,
looked at her watch. She had an hour and a half until those little beach
balls would inflate. She chewed quickly. She wanted to use the time
wisely.
More About Elizabeth P. Glixman:
Elizabeth P. Glixman's poetry, fiction, and nonfiction has
appeared online
at storySouth, Frigg, 3A.M. Magazine, and in Tough Times
Companion, a print
publication of the Institute on Violence and Survival at the
Virginia
Foundation for the Humanities. Recent poetry is also included
in the print
edition of Wicked Alice, a poetry journal and in Explorers, a
collection of
contemporary literature. Her first book of poetry is looking
for a home.
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