I’m sorry it has been several days since my last pants … sex … err, post. Lot’s has happened. I discovered that Janice has been in the hospital for several days. She’d had a car accident – a bad one – and they were worried about her spleen, a collapsed lung, and a few other things. That was the day we were supposed to have dinner. She’d lost her guts … um, cellphone in the accident, and that’s where my phone number was.
The dinner party was tonight. I had a rare evening off from the symphony, and Evangeline had planned accordingly. Elsa, Marcel’s wife, was pleasant to me, if not a little stand-off-ish. She didn’t trust me. (I wouldn’t in her circumstances.) As I expected she wasn’t a woman … err, a Wiccan, but almost everyone else at the party was. Most, except Elsa, were interested in Evangeline’s artwork all over my boy … um, body. It was mostly Christa’s artwork, but Evie was much better with a brush, and enhanced it considerably. Where Christa’s work was functional, Evie’s was art. (Sorry Christa.) Anyway, I found myself stripping down to take … show it off. OK, taking off to show off.
Although most of the “art” is under my clothing, part of it must be visible to be effective, and usually it is what looks like an olive branch on the back of my right hand. Tonight, however, I wore a lower cut than usual – was that to attract Marcel? I don’t know. Maybe that was the reason for Elsa’s mistrust. The stars in my (almost non-existent) cleavage drew the eyes downward – within – and my three-quarter sleeves revealed the leopard spots on the left side and more of the olive branch on the right. They couldn’t help but ask about it.
That just fed my exhibitionist nature.
I now seem to be part of the coterie of about 15 of them. I felt comfortable with them, even Elsa at times, and I agreed to join them for their monthly orgies … err, full moon gatherings, when I wasn’t busy with a late concert. Like Marcel, many were interested in music, and were frequent visitors to the symphony. Most had seen me perform, so I was at a slight disadvantage. Marcel wasn’t really their leader. It was a loose democratic organization, and the High Priest or Priestess was a rotating position. Evie was at the end of her term, and nominated me to take over.
I was elected unanimously – even Elsa voted for me. Why? I don’t know what I’m doing in any formal way, but that was apparently my affliction … um, attraction. Maybe they were just nosy and wanted the next gathering at my house. It was a fairly even split of men and women, but Marcel and Elsa were the only couple.
Was Evie just setting me up? Only she would know.
That explained today’s card:
TWO of WANDS. Dominion. Fire in its highest form, energy initiating a current of force, harmony of rule and justice, influence over another, boldness, courage, fierceness.
As much as I like that, I know that it must only be a temporary state. Yes, I’m fire, but isn’t that only because of what I am, and what has happened to me? Of course, I’m the Princess of Wands, but I am no leader. In fact, I’m the one who prefers to stay on the margins: not quite a Catholic (not a good one, at least), not quite Wiccan. Now I’m thrust in a leadership mode.
How long is my sentence … um term? It is of indefinite length – one year minimum, and then until someone (including me) says it is time for someone else. Evie had been the High Priestess for three years, and had apparently planned the ambush … err, dinner party to elect someone new, namely me. How did she know everyone would agree? Did they agree because they knew that I wouldn’t want to do it?
Or is it to heal the bite-marks in my soul?
Oh, I almost forgot to explain the licking reference. Somebody, licked me in my “knee pit” (not my ear, which is where I might like to have been licked in other circumstances), and it wasn’t Evie’s dog, who was asleep in front of the fire at the time. I wasn’t in a position to react right away, but when I did, the perpetrator was gone. (It was while I was being “invested” in my new position.) Who would stick their head up my skirt and lick me behind the knee? It wasn’t Marcel or Evie.
Elsa? She definitely wasn’t in view. No, it couldn’t have been her. There were others who I also couldn’t see at the time.