Sing this song
Five Miles Long
Oh Do-dah day!
Anything by Foster is an unpleasant sound.
Even more so when you wake to it.
Even more so when you wake to it with a splitting headache.
My vision was blurry, but my ears were working all too well. As I heard the drunken voices belting out the song accompanied by pipe organ I could tell that the singers were close by, but at least one layer of timber muffled them to my extreme delight. As predicted, all of the revelers put their money on the bob-tailed nag, and I found myself wondering, as always, what kind of odds were being offered on the bay.
I was lying prostrate on a stone floor with my arms bound at wrist and elbow behind my back causing an uncomfortable strain on my shoulders. My ankles were similarly bound together and my legs bent at the knee so that my ankles and wrist met each other in what felt to my fingers to be a lovers’ knot. I assumed that I would have been relieved of my revolver and rapier, naturally. But the cold stone on my skin told me I had also been relieved of vest, shirt and trousers. This was a surprise to say the least about it.
The air was humid- warm and moist. The type of environment that absorbs smells and mellows them as they meld into their surroundings. The first scent that I recognized was leather followed by iron and oil. After that was the effeminate musk that suggested estrus and escapades accompanied by its masculine counterpart. I had heard of rooms like this, and an unindulged part of me had always wanted to visit one. Though I admit that I had conflicting feelings about regaining consciousness inside one.
As my vision grew steadily more clear I realized that I was behind a row of iron bars with a door of the same style set into them; much like a prison cell. I turned my head around to survey what I could of my surroundings to find that I was in a recess of stone that had been chiseled out of the Earth, and no doubt in some part of the sprawling city under the city that had long since surrendered its share of silver.
I was beginning to weigh my options when I heard his voice. “Awake at last, Mon Amour.” His tone was husky and almost sensuous as everything in that lilied tongue sounds. The way he spoke was as he always had with hints of hatred and unspoken threats. It was the man I had been seeking, and the familiarity of the words should have given me some comfort. But given my current situation the affect that they had was to produce a gleam of nervous sweat on the entirety of my nearly nude body.
“I’m so glad I found you, Darling.”