The Garden

Right now I am thinking of you.

Sipping my Coffee, I look from my kitchen window across my small backyard, to that small patch of garden, and smile.

I am thinking of you, and it fills me with satisfaction, with pleasure, that I know you are probably thinking of me.

Actually, I am sure you are, its been 24 hrs since my last visit.

I make breakfast, eggs bacon, toast for me. Two dry cereal biscuits for you.

Before I take them to you, I can stare at them, and think of everything that they mean.

How utterly dependent on me you are.

How much power you give me. How you surrended  yourself to me……….so totally.

Its going to be a warm day. Not that you will know……….

I enter my quiet yard, around us, the city stirs, coming to life, oblivious to you.

Your world is so small, isn’t it?, do you miss this one?

I hope you do. It increases my pleasure.

But, then again, I am only giving you what you wished for.

I reach the patch of dirt under the tree. There is a small box here, discreet. Two small hoses leading into the soil, the fan still spinning. The water tank needs topping soon………… I might, might not.

After all, whether I do or not is my pleasure.

I slide open the small hatch, stare down the two feet into the dark

Below, the rattle of your chains. But you don’t speak, or make a sound… you have at least learnt THAT lesson.

“Breakfast”

I drop the dry cereal biscuits down to your box, your coffin what, well lets face it, what may become your grave.

Shut the lid.

“Bury me alive” “Fill my fantasy.” you said.

But never a thought slave, why would I go through all that work, all this work, keeping you alive down there, in your chains, in your box, under the cold, cold earth.

Never a thought, as I gave you your wish.

But I bet you do think about it a lot now, as the days slide into weeks.

I am a sadist. And what more can one ask, than to have this power available, every day, at the end of my garden?

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14.11.14