Yellow Cadillac 3

‘As if such a thing were possible’, Stella rolled with laughter on her feathery white bed.
The bright orange book lay flat down on its words.
No wonder Marquez’s name screamed out more than the title of the book hesitantly printed at the bottom. ‘Love in the time of Cholera.’
No. She wouldn’t read it. At least not tonight.

So close, yet so far; so many times, yet they missed, yet again.
The last bullet hissed, missed, sun-kissed strands of Medusa rare,
Droplets of fire fell on the shoulders bare.
Elaine, I care.
The whisper shot through her brain, for a change.
Startled, she broke her reverie deranged.
Arched back on the feathery bed, she screamed,
‘One penny or two’
Elaine, BOO!

Trickles of blood like rapidly spreading cells appeared on her bare mid-riff.
Cold leisurely licks cleaned them while the skin started caving in with fresh wounds.
Ugly bite marks decorated her stretched skin.

White bed, red bed, white bed, red bed,
Elaine sat on her white cane armchair on the sunny and sandy beach and tore off the petals from a wild flower.

The old yellow Cadillac waited at a respectable distance.