Sparks

Sparks

He was gone again. Brian's trips were getting longer. He promised they would explore this new city, but there was never time. There would be, when the third quarter ended. After the Board meeting. Next month. Soon. He asked her to trust him. He stroked the smooth skin of her perfect body in the moonlight and said he trusted her.
Loneliness weighed on her like the heavy clouds shrouding the moon. She left the stifling suburb and cruised into the city, along an eclectic street, where art galleries neighbored antique shops, and churches mingled with strip clubs. She pulled into Armando's Ristorante and handed her keys to the valet.
Armando had no tables. "Friday night you know. You can wait in the bar."
Laughter spilled out of the cozy room, just what she needed. She chose a dark table along the wall. The waiter arrived, with a glass of red wine. Gesturing across the room, he said, "From the gentleman in black."
Ellen glanced at the man. Anticipation stirred as she recalled the game of hunting, and the sensation of being the prey. His eyes pierced through the haze, and raised gooseflesh on the back of her neck. She touched temptation in the crimson glass. "Why not?" she asked.
And her conscience answered. She wasn't that lonely.
She slipped into the night before he could reach her table. Too embarrassed to request her car so soon, she hurried away from the restaurant. A sign in the window of the next building read "Madame Rosa, psychic." Ellen heard solitary footsteps following, and stepped over Madame Rosa's threshold.
Ellen could see no crystal balls or smell incense, but minor chords sang from hidden speakers. Madame Rosa didn't wear hoop earrings or colorful scarves, but cradled a telephone receiver on her shoulder. Her wrist guards rested on the keyboard of a computer flanked by a switchboard, with a dozen lights flashing. Her fingers danced, pausing only long enough to switch lines.
She looked away from the computer and acknowledged Ellen.. "Most of them just need to be forwarded. We handle it all. Opera tickets to suicide to....well, phone sex for that one."
"Phone sex?" Ellen glanced toward the door. At the window, Mr Red Wine waved in at her.
Rosa caught the glance. "Friend of yours?"
Ellen shook her head. "I never realized your... business... was so... technical."
Rosa's head fell back into a crow's caw of laughter. "Technical? What with the Psychic Hotline, SurfthePsychic.com, Tarot cards at Borders and Ouija Boards at Toys R Us, it's diversify or starve. I take it you have trouble with a man?" She leaned her head toward the window. The full moon caught the movement and a shadow of her jutting chin formed an arrow, targeted at Ellen.
Ellen gasped. "Of course not. I'm married!" She wove the fringe of her shawl through shaking fingers. "I love my husband. But I get so lonely."
Rosa smiled. "Let me see your hands."
"I don't want to have my palm read... I'm sorry.. I..."
"We haven't read palms in years. Leave that for the circus." She reached out and took Ellen's hands into hers. A quick jolt made Ellen draw back, but Rosa held firm. "Sorry, static electricity. Good, long fingers, short nails. Got a computer?"
Ellen frowned. "Yes... why?"
"You don't need to worry about your marriage. This is the year 2000. Here." She typed into the keyboard.
The screen said "Welcome to Lonely.com."
"What is this?" Ellen asked.
"A safe place. A place to go for company. You'll never get in trouble there." Rosa glanced toward the window and handed her a card. "Not like you would with that one."
Lights flashed on the switchboard. Ellen heard Rosa answer as she stepped back into the night.. "Power of Prayer. What channel are you on?"
By the time Ellen turned into her driveway, her curiosity was piqued. After all, she had control. It wasn't like going to a bar and meeting strangers. All she had to do was turn the computer off, and her marriage was safe.
She clicked online, poured a glass of merlot, and slid behind her desk. She felt energy surging in her fingers as she clicked into the chat room.
Almost immediately, a message scrolled onto the screen. "So you came at last."
"Do I know you?" she typed in.
"Only as you know your dreams."
She laughed and typed back, "My dreams? Or my nightmares?"
A typed smile was the reply. The quiet spring night folded around her. One glass of wine became two, two became the bottle. The click of the keyboard became a romantic melody set against the moonlight. Before she slept, they had agreed to meet online again. She dreamed of lightning surging through her fingers.
Brian's trips stayed frequent through the summer. Whenever he was gone, she was at her desk. The rest of the world faded away.
Her new lifestyle took its toll. She knew she wasn't eating well. Wine left her nauseous. Her muscles grew soft as she forgot her workouts. Her back ached from hours at the keyboard. Her tailored suits were too confining, and gave way to gypsy dresses.
But she was home every night.
She learned. She was amazed at the abilities of two minds connected in a private chat room. Her body reacted in ways she never dreamed possible. She typed words she could never say aloud.
She wasn't lonely anymore.
By October, Brian was home. The full moon illuminated them as he kissed the nape of her neck . "Ellen, have you put on weight? If I didn't know better, I'd swear..."
"Impossible!" she laughed. "I'm home every night, and you and I haven't..." She stopped short, startled.
"No, we haven't." he answered. "Not in months."
She shook off the uneasiness. The psychic said she would never get in trouble there.
She put her hands on her rounding form, and felt a surge of electrical proportion.
It kicked.