Rhythm and Control by Silas (best novel books to read .TXT) 📕

Walking down the lonely road he had engraved in his memory since childhood, he remembered the soothing sounds of the cicadas and the bloated chirruping of frogs of the times when he wore enough clothing to cover his genitals. He kept the pace steady and straightened his back, tuning in with his senses he tries to make out what is ahead. He narrows his eyes and squints, trying to focus on the light ahead, his ears shoot up trying to absorb sufficient sound and he breathes steadily, trying to calm his nerves. He felt out of place and perplexed at the sudden tension he was feeling, he’d been walking this road for 22 years and never felt like this. He quickened his pace and with a sly smile he reassured himself that he was strong enough to take any bastard that might come up behind him.

He kept walking for a couple more minutes until he found the treaded path to his house and entered it silently. Locking the doors he put his bag down and his camera too.
He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and went straight to the bathroom; he stripped and climbed in the shower. The cold water soothing his muscles and enveloping him in a cool embrace. He proceeded by scrubbing himself with soap and washing his hair with a strange shampoo he had picked up earlier in the week but hadn’t had time to use. The scent, strange to him made him jolt and open his eyes, to him the red liquid smelled delicious. He poured a small amount to his palm and put his tongue to it, it tasted sweet for a second until it turned bitter, he spat on the shower floor and continued to wash his hair.


He got out of the shower and quickly grabbed for the towel, drying himself off first before he walked on the tiled floor, he put it back on the peg where it was before and walked to his room, feeling extremely comfortable in his nakedness and letting out a sigh of relief as he basked in privacy. He put on some underwear and tucked himself in a silk kimono that a Japanese ex-girlfriend had given him as a late birthday present 2 years ago. The cool silk touched his skin and clinged to the humidity of it. He walked back out to the kitchen and poured himself some lemonade he’d made in the morning when he’d been scouring the house for a few negatives of the “Pedro Vasquez Case” and gave up exhausted and went out to pluck a few lemons from the tree he had in his backyard.

As he put the jar of lemonade back in the fridge he cursed himself as he saw a brown envelope on top of it, labeled in a red marker pen “PVC-NEGS”, how on earth could he miss that? He took the envelope and studied the negatives, a couple of mug shots and a few cadavers, nothing much.

He walked to the armchair he’d left his bag on when he entered the house and put the envelope in it, ready for tomorrow. He then turned to observe the house and give it a 1-10 if it needed cleaning. He pressed his back against the front door and admired his habitat. The teak wood floors, left a small kitchen that faced the living room, with blue painted wood cabinets and a small cupboard filled with an impressive selection of liquor. The living room that focused around a large coffee table he had cut a round hole in the middle, to insert a flower plant that he thought was going to give “cheeriness” to the room looked well. An armchair that faced the kitchen to the left, his dumping ground as he called it was moderately messy as his bag, camera, jacket and random junk filled it. The rest of the sofas were white, unlike the red armchair, and all faced toward the flower plant, a riqui-riqui, or so the locals called it. The walls were painted blue, and the living room faced a massive window-slide sort of thing that gave a clear view of his backyard.

Once he walked to it he slid the window panel and taking two footsteps he halted at the barrier the wooden balcony made. He checked his backyard, still and dark in the night, the banana trees he’d planted all swishing and swaying in the midnight breeze of the Caribbean, the white turtledoves perched on the same branch of the lemon tree, they never seemed to move, those 3 birds, he was never at home in the day so he only observed them at night, when they were sleeping peacefully as he glared at them in envy.

He lay down on the hammock and swung himself lightly of the balcony with his left foot in the rhythm of the breeze. He opened his eyes to observe the turtledoves and realized he had closed them in the first place. As long as he swung himself and there was a breeze the mosquitoes couldn’t bother him, he closed his eyes, never ceasing to swing himself and relaxed. He thought about Julia, the new girl working at the reception desk, how she swung her hips as she walked through the office, or how she bit her voluptuous lips absent-mindedly through the day. How she once caught him watching her and blushed, trying hard not to smile. Whilst he looked down at the paperwork trying to make out that it was a fleeting glance. Julia, he thought. How good she would look lain naked on his bed, his white sheets surrounding her, covering her in a coy yet provocative way, yet still not covering her as they allowed her to show her skin shyly. His pulse gathered pace and he opened his eyes lustily, licking his lips as if savoring a meal to come.

The breeze gained force and he stopped swinging, thinking that it was an unnecessary action. Julia, she’d only been there 2 weeks and he already found himself lusting after her, he wasn’t the only one to be truthful, bets had been made already, the men’s toilet full of laughter as one after another said “I bet you I’ll make her moan faster than any of you, she has blowjob lips, I’m telling you! Hahahaha!” Men could be such pigs sometimes, he was asked to join the bet and he replied swiftly that she wasn’t worth his money, because she had no economic value seeing as she was a human being after all, and flesh and pleasure could not be bought, and that to do so was plain cruelty. The laughter died down and they all changed the topic of conversation, blurred by an unanticipated response and guilt as they thought about the countless times they’d been to whorehouses and the faces of the prostitutes plastered with disgust and vulnerability as they pummeled into them for a 5 minute shag.

Their macho egos too big to realize that she wasn’t a lower creature, she had the same worth and status as them on the human level, and it wasn’t going to change just because she had breasts and lacked a penis.

He dozed for half hour until he heard a whimper; he sat up in the hammock and acquired a small numbing headache due to the rash action of sitting up so quickly. He heard some heavy breathing and suddenly felt vulnerable standing there feeling like an idiot with a kimono on. In his head the person nearby was probably thinking that he was gay as hell. He got inside the house and closed the window panels.

He went straight to his room and looked for a flashlight and resistant clothing, anticipating a long night ahead. He put on a white t-shirt and a strong pair of kakis, he then put on a thick linen shirt and buttoned it quickly, sensing the Caribbean breeze getting cooler by the minute. He put on thick socks and his boots in 2 minutes stat, faster than he thought possible and headed out into his backyard through a door that connected his bedroom to an alcove that had a door giving entrance to his backyard.

He adjusted his eyes to the dark and walked forward slowly, hearing another whimper he tried to follow its direction. Some leaves rustled in the distance and a sigh was let out. He quickly ruled out the possibility of it being a wounded dog and concluded that it was human, whatever the thing out here was, threatening to ruin his calm night. He put the flashlight back in his back pocket and used the light of the bright full moon instead to go by. A sharp intake of breath was made in the darkness to his left and he followed the sound, feeling lured. He then thought if the human was playing a real bad joke or if it was really a dog.

Eyes glinted in the dark and he slowed his step, making shushing sounds, thinking that if it really was a dog then he better be careful. The eyes seemed to follow him readily and wider as he approached, it shuffled and whimpered trying to get away, when he was about 2 meters close to the thing he made out the silhouette of a person, he smelt blood and corroborated that the wounded animal he sought out to find was in fact a wounded person. He kept making shushing sounds and walked up to it, he produced the flashlight and shone it on the person to reveal a pregnant woman, naked for a loincloth and tribal patterns sketched on her skin.

She was covering her face in fear with one hand another wrapped protectively across her womb. “Jesus!” He exclaimed and caught up his breath. He walked up towards her and closed the remaining distance, she tried shuffling away and caught herself in the barbwire fence that surrounded his whole backyard; she grimaced and let out a snarl. Her arm oozing with blood, and he guessed that her back was cut too.

He went straight to her and kneeled by her side, he stayed silent and observant, showing her that he wasn’t dangerous. She stayed tense but stopped trying to run away, her back was against the wall, she knew that, she was tired, hungry, in pain, wounded and defenseless, worst of all she tribe less and pregnant.

He took off his shirt and she thought he was going to lay her, she felt disgusted that he could even do such a thing, seeing as she was wounded and pregnant, ‘man did not care if woman stumbled, they would always take pleasure in them even if they did not consent’, her thoughts echoed in her mind as tears streamed down her face, she couldn’t care anymore. She might as well be quiet and let him have his way, that way; she would not feel as much pain as she would if she struggled. She closed her eyes and awaited the abuse, cornered and vulnerable.

She opened her eyes sharply as she felt his shirt land on her and cover her gently, kept making shushing sounds trying to calm her and she felt relief as she saw no immediate threat. He took her arm and she gave up hope of fighting, seeing as his gentle pull dominated her completely, she realized she was very weak.

He picked her up and she showed no protest, her head hitting hard against his chest and her