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Pulp Nocturne 1930 February 23, 2014

November 24, 2014

As We Last Left widgetRachel begins rolling Gaelin’s sleeve down slowly and methodically as if to reacquire a perfect fit. In a pleasant manner her attending to him evokes a kind of motherly or wifely flavor to the moment but, before he can decide which flavor is of the higher proportion, Rachael’s distinctive english accent once again pierces the air. “I fear that you may be diminishing the heroic significance of these scars Gaelin! Many define heroism as an act necessitated by the dictates of the situation, and the content of one’s character my friend.” Miss Crosby shoots a quick glance to her colleague as if to note his facial expression before continuing, “However, more importantly these marks are a testament to your resolve, and a focus for the intensity of your recently found life purpose-but please continue.” Rachael fastidiously manipulated Gaelin’s cuff-links as he continued his story…

As he continued farther into the description of his ordeal involving his expedition, Rachael’s movements seemed to slow a bit. By the time she finished with Gaelin’s sleeve Rachael was now seemingly mesmerized by what he had to say. “The Crosby expedition!” she exclaimed in a very low tone ashe concluded his anecdote. “Gaelin, did your expedition take place somewhere in the orient? Did you ever manage to see the creatures that attacked you? Did you make any discoveries? What-what exactly were you looking for?” Rachael rattled off with a look of astoundment on her face-and apparently oblivious to his momentary entrancement. “Tell me more! come, sit down.” Rachael takes him by the arm and briskly leads him to his seat. “Please mister Gaelin,” she adds as she gestures towards the chair. Rachael pours him some more tea, fetches her own cup, and femininely smooths out her gown/robe with both hands as she takes a seat next to him. Rachael sits erect while nonchalantly crossing her legs. Right leg goes over left, emerging from the single slit in the gown. It is quite the sight for him but, unfortunately for Gaelin, the sensation of colder air on Rachael’s lower anatomy betrays away a most pleasant view.  “Please, do tell me more about your expedition Gaelin,” Rachael requests with a slight tug on the thigh bandage now just barely peaking out from under her gown at its slit terminus. Immediately following this she pulls the gown over her exposed leg, once again leaving only ankle visible and leans forward. “Did this expedition take place on the Asian continent Gaelin?” Rachael whispered exuding almost child like anticipation and looking more interested now than ever.

 

George

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