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March, 19th.

Jonah Noble undresses Leticia.

“Do I get undressed?” Leticia asked nervously. She was trembling.

I shook my head and hunted towards her from out of the shadows. She was standing beside the bed. I ghosted up behind her and brushed my hand across her shoulder. She gasped, and I felt her flinch.

“It’s okay,” I whispered softly in her ear. “Just stand there, and don’t move. I will undress you.”

There was a long pause, and I let the seconds draw out, heightening her sense of anticipation as I ran my fingers slowly across her shoulder until my hands were light around her throat. I could feel the warmth of her body radiating through her clothes as I pressed myself against her.

I unfastened the top button of her blouse.

“Undressing a woman is an experience, not a task,” I said. “Each layer removed reveals something exquisite – something beautiful. Unwrapping a woman before taking her to bed is like a long slow walk through a gallery of fine artworks – each new piece is to be admired, and enjoyed before moving on to the next.”

I unfastened the second button of her blouse, and my words remained a soft sensual whisper in her ear. I could feel her trembling, as if tiny electric currents were jolting up the length of her spine each time my fingers brushed against her soft warm flesh.

I unfastened the third button of her blouse, lingering and enjoying the feel of her body and breasts before the moment when I turned her to face me and gazed at last upon the masterpiece that was this woman’s beautiful body.

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March, 21st.

Jonah’s father and Trigg.

“You did what?” the Old Man’s face was twisted in a rictus of pain and horror.

“I’ve been poisoning you,” Trigg said, the soft caring exterior suddenly swept away like some kind of a mask to reveal the true bitterness of her feelings. “Ever since I became your doctor,” she added.

“Why?” The Old Man groped at his stomach as another wicked blade of sharp pain stabbed somewhere deep within him. He clutched at the mantelpiece above the fireplace and his bony hand seized into a claw.

“Because I hate you,” Trigg said simply. “I’ve been poisoning you for months. Who would suspect your caring family doctor of doing such a thing?” She laughed and there was an evil ring in the hollow sound of her voice as it echoed off the dark paneled walls. “And do you want to know something….? Something you won’t be able to do anything about? Something that will haunt you in your grave…?”

The Old Man gasped, wheezed, and the blood drained away from his ravaged features. “What?” he croaked.

“Jonah is next,” Trigg said with venom. “I’m his family doctor too,” the words were an ominous warning. “He will suffer too. I promise you that.”

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March, 21st.

Leticia unconscious at the hospital with Jonah by her side.

There were tubes and hoses running from her arm, and a mask over her face. She lay perfectly still, the bedside machines keeping her alive.

It broke my heart.

I stared down at the crumpled shape of her limbs beneath the stiff linen sheet, and saw the brutal harsh shapes of splints that made jagged points through the fabric.

Her face looked untouched. Her hair was a tangled mess, fanned out across the pillow, her eyes closed. There was a furrow across her brow as though maybe she was just sleeping… but she wasn’t.

Leticia was dying.

Doctors and nurses hovered in the background. I sensed them but never saw them. They were like anonymous spectators on the edge of a crowd. I reached down and took Leticia’s hand in mine. Her skin was soft and cool. I entwined our fingers and gripped tightly, trying somehow to reach her through the force and intensity of all the emotion I felt. I felt the scalding burn of tears at the corner of my eye and I took a deep breath and threw my head back to the ceiling, overcome with the pain and anguish and devastating loneliness that swept over me like a crashing wave.

“Don’t die,” I whispered. “Please don’t die. I’ve only just come to life, Leticia. I can’t lose you now.”

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March, 21st.

Jonah sees Leticia dining out with another man.

Leticia rose from the table, pressed at her hair vainly, and then smiled down at the man sitting across from her. I saw her lips move and then she smiled weakly. She came towards where I was sitting and stood at the edge of my table. She folded her arms across her chest, and there was a nervous, anxious expression on her face.

“Jonah – so good to see you again.”

I didn’t smile. I nodded, and looked pointedly across the restaurant at the man she was dining with. “A date?”

Leticia shrugged.

I inclined my head, and then looked up into her face with cold, disapproving eyes. “He’s not the man for you Leticia. He looks like a ‘namer’.”

“A namer?” she sounded confused, as though the term was unfamiliar.

I nodded. “He looks like the kind of man who has a name for his penis. Most men don’t like all their important decisions being made by a stranger, so they give their cock a name. He looks like he thinks with his dick. You could do better. You need a real man who thinks about you before he thinks about himself.”

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March, 21st.

Jonah and Leticia stuck in a lift.

There was a sharp scream of steel from somewhere overhead and then the elevator braked with a sudden jolt – and the lights went out.

I reached for Leticia in the dark, felt her arm and pulled her close to me. “Stay calm,” I said. “It’s nothing to be worried about.”

Leticia’s voice sounded uncertain. “I… I don’t like the dark,” she said. “When I was a kid I had nightmares.”

I said nothing for a long moment. I tightened my grip on her arm and moved until my body was pressed reassuringly close to hers. “The dark is nothing to be scared of,” I kept my voice calm. “In fact, the dark is the most wonderful place, Leticia. In the dark your imagination can wander to any place you want. In the dark, the whole world becomes a new and fascinating thing. You just need to make sure you keep your thoughts ordered, and your imagination focused on the things you want to see. Don’t give in to fearful thoughts – they’re not real. And positive thoughts have much more power.”

“What kind of positive thoughts?”

“Anything,” I said, shrugging, although she couldn’t see the gesture. The blackness enveloped us. “What do you think about most of all?”

“You,” she said softly. “I think about you… and me…”

“You mean sexy thoughts?”

“Uhuh… they are my happy thoughts,” she said, suddenly becoming bolder, as if the darkness had given her a cloak to hide behind and allowed her to reveal a glimpse into her inner desires.

“Well…” I said slowly… “Then let me show you how those happy thoughts can be made real. Tell me what you imagine us doing, and I’ll make it happen – right here, and right now.”

She gasped.

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March, 24th.

Jonah Noble alone in his study.

I sat alone in the dark. Outside my window a grey blanket of clouds hung low over the distant mountains. I could see the faint wink of far off lights like pinpricks in the night as scudding mist hung like a shroud, smearing away the mountain peaks and wrapping the twilight sky in a heavy grey blanket.

My eyes drifted back over the darkening shapes of my desk: files, paperwork, a dust-covered statue of the Egyptian deity, Horus. I closed my eyes and sat back heavily in the chair.

Dust to dust…

Not a minute passed that I didn’t think of Leticia; recall the brilliant, disarming flash of her smile, or the innocent beauty of her features, or the quizzical way she tilted her head and watched me as I paced the room telling my story.

Not a minute passed where the pain in my chest and the ache in my heart did not threaten to well up tight and strangle me.

Sometimes doing the right thing can feel so very wrong.

Would that line be my epitaph?

I mused darkly. Would that noble sentiment be the words carved into my headstone – the phrase the world would remember me by?

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