Damaged Heart

Cartia was home working when the phone rang. The call was from Algernon. He wanted her to come to his place to read a letter.

“What letter?” She knew someone had a plan.

“A love letter Fagan received. It's real mind blowing,” Algernon.

“Why would I want to read his letter. It has nothing to do with me.”

“This one you should read,” he encouraged.

“Is Fagan with you,” Cartia asked, not wanting to spend time alone with Algernon. She didn't want to be known as one of Algernon's pillow-talk friends.

“Fagan and Orson are here.”

“Fine. I'll be there, soon.” She slammed down the phone. She didn't want to go out. She wanted to stay home to finish her work.

When she arrived, she was handed a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, she began to read the scribbled words. The language enough to singe the fingers holding the paper. The malevolence was arranged haphazardly on the page was suppose to be Serafina's way of expressing her love.

Cartina masked her expressions of shock, and disgust, while the men watched her read the letter. Not one emotion to tell them how the words affected her.

Algernon watched her intently. “What. No expressions of emotions,” he asked, when she folded the paper. “No explosions. Haven't you got any feelings?”

The war isn't over until the fighting is finished,” she replied.

All three men waited for her to throw a tantrum. For her to fly into a jealous rage. Algernon's plan had exploded in his face.

“Can I borrow this, letter, for awhile. It'll make an interesting story.”

Cartia sat in her darkened lounge room in her comfortable reclining chair.

The lamp beside her chair enabled her to read, once again, the letter to Fagan from a previous lady friend, which had given her held in her hand.

The pink paper scented with Moonwind perfume.

The letter had been given to her by Algernon, a friend of Fagan, who had wanted to warn her of his duplicity. To show her Fagan still had women from his past want to have him back.

The letter. A missive filled with crude words. It is a wonder the words didn't set the paper on fire.

Carina's body burned with disgust on the second read. The words of love were written with so much hate, and wanton destruction, if Fagan didn't go to visit her.

Serafina, the writer, was very foul-mouthed, being direct to the point, of why she want him. She had made him into a drunken sex god who was the only one to be able to satisfy her lustful drive.

Serafina, it seemed, was one of his many women with whom he satisfied over the years. She was a petite blond with blue eyes. Her fair complexion dry from many hours in the hot sun. She looked older than her age. Lack of education, or distraught anger, showed through in her written words.

She, being a married woman with a family, Her husband didn't seem to be able to satisfy her wanton ways. She wanted more than she had at home. Serafina was a woman obsessed with a strong sexual want for Fagan.

Carina pictured the fallen Serafina miles from her nearest neighbour. Her being married to a man not able to satisfy her. Carina was elated knowing miles of desert separated Serafina from her beloved, Fagan. His life would be a disaster if she got her claws into him.

Fagan had not long been in Carina's life.

He being a hot, free spirited man.

He wasn't a man to be chained to a possessive woman. He was a free spirit to flutter from one bed to another. He'd be spurned when he had loved in the past. His wife had burned him when she left him for another man.

To Serafina, love was sex and possession. She took everything she wanted not giving in return, except her body. She was the captor and men her slave.

Love to Carina was precious.

Love was to be cherished, and nurtured, to grow closer together.

Love was not sex with possessiveness.

She believed in giving her hear to another to be treasured for life.

Not taking control.

Not giving nothing other than her body for a short while. To her, love was suppose to be a beautiful experience to be shared by with her partner for life. A part of a team where both worked together with the same dedication. Not a take over to be ruled by one of the team. To dominate, or dictate.

Algernon, a scruffy individual, was a mischievous person. He'd been fated not to fall deeply in love with one special woman. His life was an endless stream of women. He wanted a continuation of passion, and lust, never to find his one true love. He did try to protect friends from being hurt from a scoundrel wanting to relieve his frustration.

Orson, another friend of Fagan, was a gentle giant of a man until someone angered him. When his patience had been reached the limit, he'd erupt like a volcano, no longer the lovable giant.

Carina returned a few day later with the letter still in tact. She produced a story of her own for them to read. The three of them read the message between the lines of the story. Two had secret smiles knowing they wouldn't have to protect her from Fagan.

Fagan. He received the message in a different way. Carina was telling him she was walking away from him to save her heart from being broken by his callous handling of it. She walked away not letting him know he'd left a reminder not to trust the next guy who became interested in her.

Another story re-done from my file. Working more now I have recovered from my cold, visitors, and bus tripping.