The Blue Light: Part Twenty-One

This is the twenty-first part of a fiction serial, in 789 words.

Martin had hardly slurped down a mouthful of his wine when Emma took the glass off him. “Come on now, Mark. Time to try again. I’m sure you can do better this time”. He looked up at the intense expression on her face as she slid back and forth on top of him. He had never known a woman of that age he could not satisfy, and was beginning to doubt himself for the first time.

His mouth was dry, and he could feel a pulse pounding in his temples. And Emma was no lightweight, the pressure of her body bearing down on him felt as if someone had but a sack of potatoes on his belly. Soon wishing it could all be over, he struggled to finish, hoping that his own satisfaction would coincide with hers.

But it was not to be.

“Perhaps you are hungry, Mark? It is getting rather late, so I will make you something to eat and bring it back to the bedroom”. This time he didn’t hesitate to check through the drawers and wardrobes, but found nothing more valuable than some old brooches that he quickly secreted in the inside pocket of his jacket. They were probably her mother’s as the stle was very out of fashion.

He was back on the bed trying to look keen when she returned with a plate containing two sandwiches. “Get these down you, they are both for you. I am not remotely hungry, at least not for food!” When he had eaten them, he excused himself and slipped into the bathroom, stopping to take something from his trouser pocket on the way. With a mouthful of water, he took another Viagra tablet, determined to prove to this insatiable woman that he was up to her demands.

Emma was lying on her back when he returned. She raised her head and grinned. “Ready when you are!”

Screwing his eyes closed tight, he tried to imagine the sexiest moments of his life, and was able to do the deed with some vigour. But the woman gave no indication if his extra efforts were working for her, and no sign that she had any intention of stopping.

A sharp pain around the left side of his chest reminded him that he had recently eaten two beef sandwiches very quickly. He put it down to indigestion, and continued. But then his left arm went numb, and a crushing pain spread all over his chest. It caused him to stop what he was doing, and moments later he was struggling to breathe. Emma noticed of course.

“Oh dear, you have gone very pale, Mark. What’s wrong with you?” He tried to reply, but then fell sideways off the bed onto the floor, gasping for breath. Shaking her head in annoyance, Emma picked up the house phone extension next to her bed, and dialled the emergency number. “Ambulance please, I think my friend is having a heart attack”. Then she gave her address and the person at the other end told her to look out for the ambulance in around fifteen minutes.

Sufficient time to make herself presentable and get dressed.

When the ambulance arrived, she showed the two men up to the bedroom, describing vaguely what had happened. The men looked at each other, hiding their smiles. They didn’t need the full details. After wiring him up to some machines, and placing oxygen on him, one of them turned to her. “I think he’s going to be okay, but he has definitely had a heart attack. We are going to take him to the County Hospital in Dorchester, you can come with us if you want”. Emma looked confused.

“Why would I want to do that? Just take him please”. As she showed them out, with Mark wrapped up in a blanket on the small stretcher, she noticed his car on the driveway. Closing the door, she wondered what was going to happen to that, if he didn’t make it. She had put his clothes and shoes into a plasic bag and given them to the men, but now she realised his car keys would still be in his jacket. Rather irritated, she went into the kitchen to make some tea.

The clock on the microwave told her it was two-fifty-three in the morning. That surprised her, and made her realise just how long they had been at it. Forgetting the tea, she rushed upstairs, pulled off her clothes, and stood naked in front of the window. The light should arrive in less than a minute, making her feel wonderful again.

She stood there intil three thirty, then sat on the edge of the bed until four.

But no blue light shone.

30 thoughts on “The Blue Light: Part Twenty-One

  1. (1) Unbeknownst to Martin, Emma had filled her backpack with Irish potatoes before to going at it again. Martin should have opened his eyes.
    (2) Despite the tablets, Martin did not rise to the occasion.
    (3) “A sharp pain around the left side of his chest” reminded the pirate that he should have watched where he put his foot before setting the heavy treasure chest down on the ship.
    (4) “Screwing his eyes closed tight, he tried to imagine the sexiest moments of his life.” First of all, it’s not his eyes that he should have been screwing. And second, the sexiest moment of his life had been with Martha, Paul Valentine’s favorite sheep.
    (YouTube reference:: “The Gunfighter,” narrated by Nick Offerman.)
    (5) “Ambulance please, I think my friend is having a heart attack. I’d prefer you let Pete Johnson drive. He’s in London. So give him a call. It would only take him a few hours to get here, I think. Is that a problem?”
    (6) The eye in Martin’s mind peered down a long black tunnel. A bright light shone from the far end. But it was a heavenly white instead of a devilish blue.
    (7) Bad citation: “The clock on the microwave told her it was two-fifty-three in the morning. That surprised her because she’d never heard the clock speak before.”

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