There Will Be Other Lovers

Shelving books, shelving books. He’s forever shelving books, though I do enjoy watching him bend and twist as he does so. In fifteen minutes, my blue-eyed baby will be on break, and we can go make out in the kids section.



I sit at the long, rectangular wooden table, legs crossed demurely at the ankles, ponderous tome open in front of me. I am fooling no one, though. Not the librarian in her tight shoes behind the desk, the one who pinches Julian’s ass sometimes and then pretends she didn’t. I am certain the other aides know exactly what I’m up to, sitting at that table.



It matters very little to me what these dried up, worthless excuses for females think of me. I’ve never had much use for those of my own sex, preferring to spend my time and energy on men.



Julian glides past me, touching me surreptitiously on the back of my neck. It is my signal to meet him in the kids section, over in the corner by the nonfiction books.



After a moment or two I close the book in front of me, push back my chair. The librarian’s lips tighten as I get up and slip on my sweater, as if I am leaving. Hefting the bulky book, I carry it in both of my hands and smile at her as I pass the desk.



I can feel her eyes boring into the back of my head. I am sure she could easily fire Julian, but evidently she enjoys pinching his ass too much to deny herself that small pleasure.



The children’s section is in the far corner of the library, a delightful oasis, and not only for kids. A smile spreads across Julian’s face as I cross the bright red rug to where he waits behind the middle readers, the tall window behind him. I lean in for his kiss, and as I do so, the room seems to darken.



A slight rumbling sounds outside the window, then a sudden downpour of rain sheets down the glass.



“It’s just a thunderstorm,” Julian says, nuzzling my neck, one thing on his mind. Occasionally I will indulge him, for there is nothing like the thrill of getting caught to add spice to lovemaking.



But not today. The storm makes me nervous, and I don’t feel quite right. My dormant time nears, that time when I will sleep and grow, and change.



Julian strokes my hair, whispers in my ear. He believes I am afraid of thunder and lightning and seeks to comfort me.

Sometimes he can be quite tedious, but he is by far the most enthusiastic and caring of my lovers.



My discomfort increases as the day progresses. After I leave the library I return to my apartment and pull all the shades. The sunlight is beginning to hurt my eyes. My skin feels dry and rough. I spend the remainder of the time before Julian arrives getting ready for my dormant time. This entails quite a few phone calls, as I must dispose of nearly all of my personal possessions.



Finally finished with the tasks, I strip and shower, washing carefully. I dry off and apply moisturizer to every inch of skin, inspecting myself in the mirror closely. To my dismay the molt is progressing more rapidly than it ever has before. I may not have time to give Julian a proper goodbye, and this distresses me. He deserves more than it looks like I will be able to give. Still, I must feed before succumbing to the dormant time. And there will be other lovers when I once again awaken.



The doorbell rings and I pad across the soft carpet, wearing only a thin silk robe.



Julian’s eyes light up when he sees me and he immediately enfolds me in his muscular arms, wanting to finish what we started at the library.



Unfortunately I cannot indulge him, no matter how much I would like to, and even as my fangs sink into his succulent flesh regret gives his life fluids a bitter tang that I do not like.



Still, there will be other lovers, and perhaps one equal to the enthusiastic Julian. I can only hope. But now my time rapidly approaches and I make the final preparations. Soon I will sleep, and change, and grow, deep in the earth. Then I will emerge reborn, to once again live among humans.



Humans. My sheep.