The Second, part Two

This post is part of a blog series entitled, Memoirs of a Ghost.  For more information, click our About page, and check the bottom of this post for previous entries.

At the Cafe

There was something about Asher I couldn’t put my finger on.  I sat there in the deli listening to him tell me about his life … traveling the globe as an international sales rep.  Logging on at stops around the world; he had friends in every time zone … or at least that’s what he said.

I nodded as I sipped my tea.  It seemed all too unbelievable.  I would see him pop up on my list almost every day, and if he lived a live half as well rounded and successful as he made himself out to be, why was he spending so much time in Second Life?

“You don’t believe me,” he laughed.

I turned crimson.  Was I that obvious?   “Not true,” I muttered.

“I tell you what,” he said, pushing his plate away.  “Tomorrow’s Saturday.  I’ll be in Prague.  If you log on around lunch your time, I’ll take you to this awesome club … mostly French, Dutch and Germans … but I think you’ll love it.”

I was thinking through my potential day.  No plans in the real or otherwise, and nodded hesitantly as I wiped my mouth.  “Sure, why not.”

He reached across the table and touched my hand.  I could feel the electricity as it moved up my hand, and I pulled back instinctively.

“What’s wrong,” he asked.  “Sorry … maybe I misread …”

I interrupted.  “No … you’re fine.  I …”  Was it true that I was fine?  I could feel my face flushing hard.  It wasn’t that I didn’t want the touch …

“You know I’m seeing someone, Ash,” I continued.

“And what was it you told me the first time we went out … you actually hardly ever see him unless you’re working?”

“I’m not the kind of guy that sees other people when I’m in a relationship.”  I was a little flustered, yet when I looked at him, it was hard to resist those eyes that saw through every wall I was throwing up, and whose energy made me long for the next time they would show up at the club, or as a text on my phone.

“It’s not going to last.  You know it as well as I do.  You’ll take so much, and then you’ll leave.  And … I’m a very patient man.”

I laughed, slightly embarrassed.  “I would never ask someone to …”

“We can be friends in the meantime.  We’re already friends … I look for you every time I log on.”

So do I, I thought, but I wasn’t going to admit it out loud.

“There’s this place their building by the Blake Sea … some sort of replica of the Italian Rivera.  They’re going to have rentals … we could be roomies!”

I was going to reply that I was already living with Bruce … I knew whatever reply that would lift easily from his lips would easily justify why it still wouldn’t be a problem.

But that wasn’t it.  Despite my own internal protestations, I was slightly more excited about the prospect of living with this man who was invading every aspect of my sensory experience.

Click here for the next episode of Memoirs of a Ghost.  Click here for the previous episode.  To start at the beginning, click here.

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