Sunday Scribblings (Bright Idea)

This week's word/phrase is Bright Idea: You could feel the beat . . . thump, thump, thump; the glow sticks danced in sync with the chaos; she pumped in and out of sight. I concentrated, aided by the powders, pills and caffeine of a night off the grid. Shirt off, sweat dripping, teeth grinding, movement chaotic, but focused. She was my prey, I was her gyrating predator. My frustration, sense of anticipation, and arousal heightened with each passing moment. But no matter how hard I tried, I could not get her to come into focus, to stop, to let me feast. I knew I would love her in the light of day, but day it was not. If only the sun would rise, I was convinced that she would see my chiseled body, drugged out smile, raging libido, know my desire, and match my rhythmic wiggle. In a moment of clarity, or insanity, I saddled up to the curtains, lit them ablaze with my cigarette, and waited for her to observe me in full light. A bright idea it may not have been, but it was an idea, and it brightened the room, mission accomplished.