Revolt. A Love Story by Dewey Edward Chester. We met inside the woods of Panther Hollow: a path went to the edge of a meadow. I walked past her, but glanced back…
REVOLT, a love story.
We met inside the woods of Panther Hollow: a path went to the edge of a meadow. I walked past her, but glanced back.
“You are beautiful,” I said, and she responded with a smile. We stood under a Sycamore tree. The leaves were red and orange. She walked away, but suddenly turned to say: “Your speeches intrigue me.”
“Revolutionary, at best,” I said. I studied her closely: freckled face and a swift athletic style. But typical, I reasoned, a woman who wore a sash of superiority, her head stuffed with lies, her belly full of ice. Her type followed the rules.
The breeze inflated her skirt. Her hair floated behind, and for an instant, was there a twinkle in her eye?
I gazed at her flank. An embrace would start a war; our climax, a blow against the law. “You’re beautiful,” I spoke again.
“It’s your eyes,” she replied. “I’m good at eyes.”
I warned—–“I’ve got baggage.”
“I could care less,” she smiled, “We’ll carry your baggage together.”
She was in my arms. Her body strained against mine. Her hair was against my face. She turned herself up and I was kissing her thin red mouth.
She clasped her arms about my neck, she called me loved one.
I pulled her to the grass. “Have you done this before?” I asked.
She answered slowly—-“Promiscuity was discouraged in my family.”
My heart leaped. I would corrupt her. “I hate the Rules,” I said, “I hate what they’ve done to us. I seek to start a revolution!”
She answered easily, “I seek to start one, too!” She grinned.
“You like our revolt?”
“I adore it.”
I smelled her passion. I pressed her upon the grass.