A Tale for the Modern Attention Span
After handing his sister off to her betrothed, Steel took his place in the front pew. He looked at the groom and a thought occurred: Thanks to Viv’s impatience, I never did get Dante to do that background check on Hugh. Oh well, they’re clearly very much in love and he’s obviously good for her. What could possibly go wrong?
As soon as Reverend Izzmore began prattling on about the sanctity of marriage, Steel’s attention, and eyes, began to wander.
He looked around at the guests. Those he didn’t recognize he hoped—for their sakes—had been invited by Hugh. He knew that the public’s fascination with his family was intense, and that upon hearing stately Bolt Manor’s gates were open (not only was the wedding on the grounds, but the reception was to be held in its Grand Ballroom), crashers would come in droves. I wonder how many of these people are leeches come to try to feed off my filet mignon and lobster and caviar and champagne?
Suddenly the doors at the back of the chapel flew open and Steel locked eyes with a young, black man who came rushing in. The man hesitated, looking around like a person unsure of himself. Steel assumed his indecision owed to the fact that he knew he’d been caught sneaking into the wedding by Steel Bolt himself. The individual eventually slinked into the last pew on the left while Steel thought, Oh I’ll have some words for that young man shortly.
The Reverend continued droning on, so Steel looked over at his wife. He’d been terribly concerned for some time about her malaise—now he finds himself even more worried about her sudden robustness. A wide smile has adorned her face since he got home from work Friday evening. And there’s been a persistent sparkle in her eyes and flush on her cheeks ever since. All this coming the very day she tried to force herself on him sexually. My explanation of my feelings on that matter must have finally sunk in.
One can only imagine how different the nuptials of Viveka and Hugh would have been had Steel known the real reason for Charity’s healthful glow.
Daedalus knew, and he looked suitably grim as a result.
He had tried to explain to Charity that very morning (when she jumped into his shower with him) that they were never going to have sex again. He tried to express to her just how wrong it was while she bent over, held onto the soap dish and begged for a “quickie.” He demanded that she stop beaming at him as he—guiltily, though with extreme mutual pleasure—gave her one.
But she hasn’t stopped smiling since the first time they had sex; she simply cannot. It was nothing less than a life-affirming revelation for Charity. Ever since puberty she’d dreamed of wanton, boisterous intercourse that left one feeling sated. What she’d first experienced with Steel was such a profound disappointment that her faith in life itself was shaken. But now, now she knew such satisfaction was possible. And she knew she had to have it on a regular basis.
She looked over at Daedalus and beamed again.
He glared back at her admonishingly.
She was feeling so rambunctious that right there in the first pew, as the ceremony was taking place, she reached down and brushed his crotch with her fingers.
She turned her attention back to the altar before Daedalus could chastise her.
Oh, how many hundreds of times a day, thousands of times a month, millions of times a year do those words go unanswered? But on this day, in Crescendo Cove, a high-pitched voice from the back of the chapel said “I do.”
Continue Reading: Episode 53: The Intervener Intones Some Interesting Information