A stranger sat at her table, claiming to be her soul mate. She knew he was a complete bastard just by the look in his eyes, but she was so desperate for a soul mate she asked him if he'd like a drink.

"You don't even have any drinks here," he said, staring into her eyes as though not seeing her. His entire body was tense, and he held his arms still as though resisting some violent urge.

"True." She sighed. He was the third stranger this month, certainly more interesting and handsome than the other two, but the games had become boring, her house was dirty, and the constant change in cologne wafting about on the air tired her senses and her mind.

"OK, no drinks then. Help me clean up this place and we can go sit in the hammock outside under the willows."

"I haven't even told you my name." He laughed unkindly. "Do you normally entertain complete strangers?"

"Yes. That's what I'm paid to do," she replied. "Keep your name to yourself. Call me whatever you want, I don't care."

He shrugged and stood up as she did. Her soul mate helped her dust, vacuum, reorganize the kitchen cabinets, walk the dog, and then they swung in the hammock under the willows while the stars came out.

As she lay there against this stranger's body and the night grew cold, Sandra wondered if romance could be recreated after having been so terribly murdered. It had been murdered, strangled, poisoned, starved to death in every nation, every home, every part of the world as far as she knew. The word was not in the dictionary as of the past year, and if she didn't stop pondering it, she was likely to also find herself unlisted in anywhere since pining so far paid so little.

"Whatcha thinking about?" her soul mate inquired.

"If my dog would taste good. They eat them in other parts of the world."

She felt him shift and slide one long, hairy arm around her. "I think you would taste good," he whispered.

"I don't. I live on garlic and eggs," she said.

"That right there is why romance is dead." He laughed and started making love to her, and Sandra felt a deep sense of wonder that hammocks could be so supportive and comfortable.

Katherine Shipp

@KS_KS

Idk

Katherine Shipp has not written a story.