An Affront to God

The blister of cold swept through the home on this Friday evening. As I hear the door slam I look up from the piano "Its only 10..." I say out loud to myself. "David! David Were are you?!" I hear my master bark. His voice already liquored up from his night on the town with another of his 'Girls' as he calls them. "David! David we- oh." He states as he turns into the Living room. I'm sitting at my Steinway, fingering the Ivory when he brings in his tracks of dirt and ice on my clean redwood floors. "How dare she David!" He looked down his crooked nose bent upward, sneering at the world as if it owed him more then he has stolen from it already. "How dare she!" He storms over and nearly pushes me off my seat at the piano as he sits himself next to me. He begins to plink at my Piano's ivory leaving cold on it as he drips onto my seat. "Do what sir?" He turned to me, anger in his green eyes as if I should know his mind right away. "How dare she insult my image of god!" He got up throwing more snow onto my piano. I gave him a cold stare as his back was turned

"She thought she could insult me? Allen Scott?! I saved her wretched company and this is the thanks I get?!" He stumbled over a little end table and began to remove his boisterous overcoat. A gaudy dark green peacoat I bought him in January of last year. Or rather he told me to buy him, from my own account. He pays me well so I cannot argue. "The night was a disaster! I bring her to La'Grange and we have a seafood dinner inside, they said the patio is closed in the winter, I mean what idiot closes a patio ever? I rented out the whole restaurant just so we would be served immediately but it still takes them an hour to make our food. Then that's when it happens. I notice her little... changes. She eats with her right hand but drinks with it as well. She only talks in fragments no coherent thought between them. Then she has the audacity at the end to request a kiss from me? I used to think she was the image of god, her pale skin, her red lips, her yellow eyes. But no! She has the speak of a commoner! No upper class to her! What is the point of a god that is flawed? What god is there then? Is god not to be perfect? Well David? Well!?" I sat at my piano trying to keep a look of interest on my face, he does this almost every week. "Very true sir, very true." He began to walk up the stairs to the attic. "Go fetch her from the car. Not a perfect sacrifice but business needs one none the less!"