The Saga of Melanie Daniels (a fantasy) - part II

“At last, you’re there. I was about to call someone else in L.A.”

Melanie Daniels stood up from the shadows of the Confederate style villa at the shores of the lake. She wore a strict puritan-like black suit with a long pearly silk scarf that could have made all distance from Earth to Moon if unfolded.

“Nice words of welcoming me after such a knocked down trip Melanie. You look pretty much as I figured you out. Arrogant. Superb. You’re a living disaster for men, and maybe women for what God knows of your tastes.
- Stop kidding me C. I’ll call you C. from now on.
- You called me because of my skills. And I’ve a name. And a bank account although I prefer cash. I’m doubling my fees because you’re so charming.
- You could triple them. It’s a deal then?
- I’ve no idea of my assignment Melanie. What is so important you’ve to tell me that no long distance phone call could transmit?”

Melanie looked a bit dizzy then started fading all of a sudden. She nearly collapsed and fell down in my arms.

“Sweetie, are you ok?”

She was as light as a nightingale, as soft as a white linen sheet I folded with my strength, as fragile a piano melody in C sharp minor a romantic heart could listen to. And she was so beautiful. God.

“Should I put you to bed and wish you good night Moon?”

She seemed recovering a bit.

“It’s fine C. I’m just… just… tired. Very much tired of all that’s coming here so suddenly, I can’t cope with all this chaos anymore.
- Maybe we should sit somewhere and take a coffee I suggested while moving her to an armchair under the shadow of the veranda.

- Melanie, what’s all about with this mysterious affair? I asked her after a couple of minutes.
- It’s about the end of the world, C.”


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