Writing Challenge EXAMPLE: I am Devotee / Word Count: 855
When I was a kid, I believed in magic. Santa and elves, Easter bunnies, leprechauns, ghosts, and tooth fairies. The years went by, and I grew up. The myths and magic morphed into cold reality. Growing up with a disability made those harsh realities that much colder. A hard shell coated me. Armor, chainmail and shields. Nothing could get in.
Love became a four-letter word. Romance? The stuff of cheesy novels and trashy movies. Like the antithesis of the Grinch, my heart shrunk three sizes. A dark storm, wherever I went, rain falling upon my head on the sunniest of days. Who could love a man with such physical imperfections? Who would see something in me other than an object of pity? The dark cloud remained.
Then, I met her. A devotee. Devotee. What the hell is that? Sounds like a religious fanatic. Devoted. Devoted to what? Who are these devotees, these…devs as they call themselves? It started innocently enough. A beautiful girl staring at me in a bar. She obviously didn’t know. I walk with a limp, so she probably came in late, saw me sitting there and figured I was just some able-bodied guy, sitting quietly with a bourbon on the rocks.
She moved her way over to an empty seat to my right. I thought nothing of it. She said “hey there,” and I didn’t react. She was obviously talking to the bartender, I figured. She cleared her throat. “Hey there,” she said again.
“Hi,” I replied softly, taking a sip of my poison.
“I’m not normally this upfront with anyone, but has anyone ever told you, you’re drop-dead gorgeous?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” I replied honestly, and in a voice almost too quiet to be heard in such a noisy atmosphere.
“Well, then let me have the honor of being the first,” she said.
I didn’t know what to say, and she could sense that, so she continued talking. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“No, I’m here alone,” I replied.
“Interesting,” she said with a sly grin.
“I’ve had a crap day at work, just looking to kill a few brain cells to forget about it.”
“Well, there are other ways to get your mind of things besides booze,” she offered, letting her fingers dance over my arm.
I took my hand and gently removed her fingers from my arm. “Before you go too far, I’ve got to tell you something.”
“Oh?” she asked.
“Look, when I’m sitting down here at the bar, you can’t tell, but I’m physically disabled. You probably came in late, didn’t see me walking in here.”
“No, I was here before you arrived, and yes, I saw you walk in here. I wouldn’t be talking to you now, if you were just some boring, able-bodied guy,” she admitted and laughed. Her fingers crept back to my arm.
“Thing is, a select few of us out there…don’t just accept physically disabled guys…we prefer them.”
“What?” I repeated.
“Have you ever heard of the term devotee?”
“I uh…I…once, from a disabled friend. I thought they were mostly guys who chased female gimps.”
“There are those. But there are also lady devotees as well, and this one thinks you’re kind of yummy.”
“Mm hmm,” she replied, stroking my arm gently.
“Look, lady. I don’t know what games you’re trying to play here, but I’m not buying it. If someone put you up to this as a joke, it ain’t funny.”
“I like games, but not in here. The games I was thinking of take place in the bedroom. Want to play?”
“Like a heart attack.”
Against my better judgment, I settled up my tab and headed out the door with this beautiful woman. Maybe she was nuts, maybe she was going to rob me at gunpoint. I figured, with the day I was having, it was bound to happen, but there was something alluring about her. I just couldn’t tell her no.
We hopped into the cab together, and she insisted on heading to her place. She led me to her apartment, and like a lioness devouring her kill, she practically tore the clothing from my body.
She explored every inch of my body. The parts which I considered my least attractive, she fawned over the most. I was starting to believe again. There was magic. I saw it in her eyes, too. She hungered for every imperfection, studied me like some rare piece of art, and devoured me like a five-star dish. I never felt so sexy in all my life.
Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the tooth fairy; they had nothing on her. Her magic was the kind that could melt this Grinch heart. Her magic was like voodoo; dark, mysterious, powerful. Whatever her spell was, it worked. I was hers and she was mine. We did the dirty like two animals in heat. We fell into each other with each passing second. Time stood still, but her body certainly did not.
I melted in her arms, and she trembled with delight. She was a devotee. The magic was real.