DECEMBER 30th, 2008

She heard waves brushing onto a beach. The whooshing back-and-forth rhythm of the water calmed her; it excited her.

Sappho Höst loved the ocean. She was barely past 25, but she knew that much.

She loved the ocean so much that if she had to make a choice between sweet tea and the Florida coast, she'd choose the beaches of Saint Augustine. Her eyes gazed into an endless blue horizon. She sighed. The full moon glowed; the waves below the night sky glittered like lights on a Christmas tree, reminding her of the one still in their living room.

Sappho smiled. She took small, slow careful steps as she walked just out of reach of the foamy brush of tide, leaving tiny foot prints that were quickly washed away. Despite being an earth witch with a natural knack for growing things out of dirt, it was water and sand that drew her now.

I wonder if the Gaian Witch Guild can help me learn water magic, she mused, thinking how useful it would be to be able to conjure up water whenever she needed to for her garden and plants. And she could fill George’s water bowl too! The leader of the guild, The Oldest, probably wouldn’t go for it though. Well she don’t gotta know! And what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her! Sappho huffed.

She dipped her toes into the water and smiled as she felt the rush of cool water wash over her anxious feet, causing her to shiver. It was a quick jolt that quickly drifted into serenity around her ankles.

The Oldest can just kiss my bare… the water around her feet became cloudy as her toes wiggled in the murky sand.

Sappho was at peace with the universe. She was in Nirvana. She wanted this moment to go on for a long while- she was drifting away into bliss.

But, the wind suddenly changed.

It blew harder, and harder. The soft quiet tranquil sounds of the ocean became blarefully loud; it was like the groans of an old dog taking his last breaths.

*poof*

The ocean and beach vanished. Her eyes shot open. She blinked and looked around- instead of a vast dark ocean, she saw the dark interior of her bedroom. Her eyes drifted to the falling snowflakes that landed on the window sill outside before promptly melting.

What a nice dream, she thought; she wished she could have stayed at the beach longer.

It was the middle of the night- the flurries outside glowed like fireflies as they fell to the ground. Disappointed, Sappho sighed again as she lightly kicked the blanket tangled around her feet. She was wrapped in a soft comforter blanket and felt snug, like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Only her face showed, illuminated by the light glow of the white pillow it rested on.

The bedroom was neat, clean, and organized- save for some scraps of torn wrapping paper on the floor next to the desk in front of the window. I need to clean that, she noted, squinting at the small mess in the dark.

She returned her gaze to the snow outside. She was hypnotized by the shadows cast on the bedroom walls by the snowflakes outside, their descent seeming like a slow dance in the winter wonderland that was her bedroom.

Well, her bedroom would have seemed like a winter wonderland... if not for the obnoxious bellowing of a large bear of a man sleeping and snoring beside her. The familiar feeling of the mattress sinking under a man's large frame drew her in softly like an inescapable black hole.

Mr. Winters, Sappho thought, snorting softly at the name she used to address Matt with when she worked for him. She tried not to giggle as she rolled her head over on her pillow to gaze at the man sleeping next to her. Matt's hairy right leg, chest and arms were out in the bare air, the shared blanket wrapped around his waist like a sash, barely covering what would make most church going Christian women blush. Whereas only Sappho's head showed from her cocoon, his body showed just about everything.

He was practically naked! She blushed- the thought that she should move the blanket to better cover him crossed her mind.

Well, he's got boxers on. That's better than nothing, she thought.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

She studied him. This man— formerly and still sort of known as Mr. Winters— was not just any man to her.

He was her knight in shining armor sans armor, and her heart fluttered as she looked at his strong handsome face in awe and wonder.

He needs to shave, she noted. She thought of shaving him herself in the morning.

During the day, Sappho didn't show deference to anyone. She was a powerful witch with her own office who hexed sexist men while wearing suits by Hugo Boss. She was an assertive liberal feminist who smoked ganja just to blow it in a cop's face.

During the day, Sappho was powerful. She was strong; she was like a warrioress out on the prowl and-

Suddenly, Matt's serene face twisted. He moved to shove his fist down the back of his briefs, and aggressively scratched an itch that was biting his ass.

To this debauchery, Sappho just rolled her eyes and shook her head. She then went back to her thoughts. What was she thinking? Oh yeah-

During the day, Sappho kicked ass, jumped over cars, lassoed misogynists, and told Republican men to kiss her pink pussy hat. She did everything she could to ensure her son became President of the United States as foretold by the witch council. When the sun was up, her entire being was laser focused on either herself or her sons. She'd gladly beat up any douchebag gods who tried to mess with her goddess self.

But at night— this night— she didn't want to kick ass or beat up a god; she wanted to worship one. At least, she liked to think of this man sleeping next to her that way. Right now— to her— Matt was mightier and braver than any god of war. He certainly wouldn't mind her viewing him this way, she felt.

He would love it, if he knew.

Sappho wondered.

Does he know?

She thought it would be strange at this point in their relationship for him to not know how she felt; how, after a lifetime of rejecting the Christian God, he was the only god she wanted to worship right now.

If he doesn't already know, maybe he needs to find out.

Her hand carefully moved to take hold of his arm, and gently shake it before quickly withdrawing back under her cover. She waited.

Matt made no movement.

She shook his arm again, a little less gently this time; and waited.

Matt coughed and snorted-

-his eyes stayed shut. He suddenly moved to scratch his ass again, a dumb drooling smile forming on his face as he found the right spot.

Sappho's mouth twitched; her gentle grasp on his arm became a firm grip.

Damnit! He can be a real Al Bundy sometimes, she shook him really hard now.

Her rough shaking finally succeeded. Matt jerked himself awake, his snoring shutting off like a hose clamp. He shook his head, blinked his eyes open and displayed a lion's set of teeth as he yawned hugely. His eyes fluttered as he blinked stupidly at the petite woman next to him.

What does she want now? I'm pretty sure I put the dirty dishes away last night... his thoughts were churning; he was preparing to defend himself against unjust accusations.

Matt covered his mouth as he yawned again and his face settled dumbly into Sappho's eyes- her coy blue eyes gazed lovingly back at his half-lidded stare, and she smiled. The hand that shook him was now softly rubbing him; she then winked at him. He felt dumb for a few seconds, not understanding; then his dumb eyes widened into knowing radiance.

She was in the mood.

That mood.

The mood that he loved more than any other mood in the universe of moods.

Matt's mouth widened into a grateful grin, and he moved to take hold of her. Sappho nearly squealed with joy- nothing made her happier than when he understood her, when he got her. She rocked forth to plant a soft kiss on his lips before rocking back onto her bottom.

He probably doesn't know how I really feel though, she thought in adoration as he reached his huge arm forward to place his hand behind her. As he pulled her close, his free arm reached behind to grab for his eyeglasses from the nightstand.

Too much trouble to dig out those stupid contacts, he thought, his hand finally finding and gripping the frame.

And she said she likes the glasses better anyway, he inwardly chuckled, swiftly placing the glasses over his eyes, like how a superhero placed a mask on. He now felt prepared- he wrapped both of his large arms around the small frame of his wife. Sappho felt engulfed yet shielded by this man she loved so much.

What was about to happen was a rare moment for them both. Only after the kids were sleeping could Matt be with her— his bunny— the way parents often long for. Intimate moments like this were always put off for another time or another day because... well just because, because, and always because.

The because that happened yesterday was movie night with the boys. Matt inwardly groaned at the memory.

If I have to watch that cartoon about the thief and the blue genie again, I'm going to throw myself off a bridge, he thought in agitation.

No, he rather do this with his wife than ever watch a cartoon ever again. It was hard for him to do anything like this when Sappho was busy worrying about the boys, which was all the damn time. When the boys were around, he had to be careful. When the boys were around, he had to be discreet. When the boys were around, he had to watch what he said, watch what he did, and sometimes even watch how he felt. He had to pat her on the back like she was his platonic pal.

I'd rather pat her somewhere else, he thought coyly.

Mr. Winters, she thought as she brushed away the covers separating them. The snowflakes outside were still falling- they continued. The bedroom was no longer quiet or still...

. . .

And it was over.

The whooshing waves of wind outside stopped. The snowflakes had stopped; the bedroom became quiet and still.

That almost makes up for him voting for George W. Bush, she thought before falling asleep.