The Erotic Haunting of Miriam
folder
Drama › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,921
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Drama › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,921
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 6
**First of all I want to say Thank You to all the kind souls who have left such lovely reviews. I\'m sorry I haven\'t been able to write as much as I would like, being both a full time mom and a full time college student leaves me with little free time to write. But I do greatly appreciate your reviews and encouragement**
Several hours latter Miriam was still painting. With her mind on auto pilot she was unaware of how much time had past. Her talented hands moved quickly across the canvas, trying to capture the details about the dream man before they slipped away. She was focused on the smaller details such as the rugged line of the jaw, the wary expression in the deep brown eyes; the way the full mouth offset the thin angular face; than to notice the over all painting.
A knock at the door brought Miriam out of her dream like reprieve. Blinking at the brilliant sunlight she was surprised to see that it was late morning all ready. Once again the knock sounded this time from the back door. Hurrying to the south windows at the back of the studio Miriam opened the window casements and spied the top of her neighbor’s curly brown mop of hair.
“It’s unlocked, come on up,” Miriam called down.
A few minutes latter her neighbor emerged into the light filled studio. Heather, living across the street was one of the first people whom Miriam met when she moved into the house. She was a friendly soul and had taken no time in introducing herself and welcoming Miriam to their neighborhood. Miriam on her part had like Heather from the first. There was something about Heather that warm and amiable. She had a presence that invited familiarity and an easy grace that Miriam felt was rare outside of the south. It wasn’t long before Miriam had asked Heather to pose for her, and Heather gleefully accepted. The two women filled the long hours of posing and sketching with pleasant conversation becoming fast friends.
“Working on something new?” Heather asked. Miriam shrugged her shoulders in a dismissive way.
“Nothing important,” she replied, “Just someone I dreamt about last night”
“Dreaming about Confederates now?” Heather asked in a teasing voice as she surveyed the painting.
“What makes you say that?” Miriam asked absentmindedly as she cleaned her brushes.
“Caused he is dressed as one,” Heather responded indicating the portrait.
Miriam came back around and eyed the painting, this time seeing it as a whole. She saw that she had painted the man in a ragged gray coat- but undeniably a coat of a military cut.
“It’s really well done Mir, such detail. I didn’t know you were a Civil War buff.”
“But I’m not,” Miriam said, perplexed, “What sort of details do you mean?”
“Well look at theses wooden buttons you painted on the coat.”
“Shouldn’t they be brass instead?”
“No, many of the soldiers couldn’t afford to replace missing buttons with brass ones, esp. towards the end, so they carved wooden ones instead. Didn’t you know that?”
Miriam shook her head, feeling a strange tingling sensation creeping up her spine, “No, I’ve never had much interest in history.”
“Well, it’s very accurate. He’s so thin, and just look at his eyes, so starved and hungry; but still so determined. You really captured the look of a Confederate at war’s end.”
“And how do you know so much about the war, are you into that whole reenactment scene?”
Heather waved off the question, “No, but Adam is big into it. He’s been mad for it ever since he found out that there was a skirmish fought around here. He has dragged me off to countless battlefieand and reenactments, even when I was pregnant! You should have seen me, big as a whale and having to waddle around those dusty old fields.” She rolled her eyes, “You’d think the war was still being fought the way him and his buddies carry on.”
“There was fighting around here?” Miriam asked a bit surprised. She knew there were countless battle fields around the south, most of them unknown little places where only a few hundred soldiers had fought and died. But she had never lived near one, and it felt rather creepy knowing that those quaint, peaceful fields that surrounded her house was once the scene of so much death and brutality.
Heather nodded, “A bit, it was during Sherman’s march to the sea, He came though here and part of Longstreet’s rear guard that wasn’t tied up in Virginia marched down to stop him. But they were pretty much out numbered. From what Adam said, it was quite a massacre.” She eyed Miriam, debating if she should tell her the rest or not. Feeling that Miriam had the right to at least know about the history of her own home Heather continued, “You know this house was used as a hospital after the battle. Some of the town folks thinks it haunted, it use to be quite the dare to walk past this place at night.”
Miriam shook her head, “I’ve never believed in ghost. But thanks for telling me about the house. It explains some of the rather odd looks I get in town when I tell which house I bought.”
Heather laughed her warm throaty laugh, “Oh don’t let them old battle axes bother you. I tell you one thing, most of the town’s members are very happy that you restored this old place. It was quite an eyesore before you bought it; but because of its history no one wanted to have it torn down.”
“Well we should get started with you;” Miriam said, setting aside the confederate portrait, “I don’t want to lose this light and the morning is waning quickly”
Heather, nodded, shamelessly discarding her clothes and letting Miriam arrange her on a small velvet divan near one of the windows where the morning light was bright but not harsh. Miriam picked up her sketch pad and charcoals; electing to quickly sketch in the lines and details before moving on to the water colors. Before long she had quite forgotten about the odd visitor to her dream.
Several hours latter Miriam was still painting. With her mind on auto pilot she was unaware of how much time had past. Her talented hands moved quickly across the canvas, trying to capture the details about the dream man before they slipped away. She was focused on the smaller details such as the rugged line of the jaw, the wary expression in the deep brown eyes; the way the full mouth offset the thin angular face; than to notice the over all painting.
A knock at the door brought Miriam out of her dream like reprieve. Blinking at the brilliant sunlight she was surprised to see that it was late morning all ready. Once again the knock sounded this time from the back door. Hurrying to the south windows at the back of the studio Miriam opened the window casements and spied the top of her neighbor’s curly brown mop of hair.
“It’s unlocked, come on up,” Miriam called down.
A few minutes latter her neighbor emerged into the light filled studio. Heather, living across the street was one of the first people whom Miriam met when she moved into the house. She was a friendly soul and had taken no time in introducing herself and welcoming Miriam to their neighborhood. Miriam on her part had like Heather from the first. There was something about Heather that warm and amiable. She had a presence that invited familiarity and an easy grace that Miriam felt was rare outside of the south. It wasn’t long before Miriam had asked Heather to pose for her, and Heather gleefully accepted. The two women filled the long hours of posing and sketching with pleasant conversation becoming fast friends.
“Working on something new?” Heather asked. Miriam shrugged her shoulders in a dismissive way.
“Nothing important,” she replied, “Just someone I dreamt about last night”
“Dreaming about Confederates now?” Heather asked in a teasing voice as she surveyed the painting.
“What makes you say that?” Miriam asked absentmindedly as she cleaned her brushes.
“Caused he is dressed as one,” Heather responded indicating the portrait.
Miriam came back around and eyed the painting, this time seeing it as a whole. She saw that she had painted the man in a ragged gray coat- but undeniably a coat of a military cut.
“It’s really well done Mir, such detail. I didn’t know you were a Civil War buff.”
“But I’m not,” Miriam said, perplexed, “What sort of details do you mean?”
“Well look at theses wooden buttons you painted on the coat.”
“Shouldn’t they be brass instead?”
“No, many of the soldiers couldn’t afford to replace missing buttons with brass ones, esp. towards the end, so they carved wooden ones instead. Didn’t you know that?”
Miriam shook her head, feeling a strange tingling sensation creeping up her spine, “No, I’ve never had much interest in history.”
“Well, it’s very accurate. He’s so thin, and just look at his eyes, so starved and hungry; but still so determined. You really captured the look of a Confederate at war’s end.”
“And how do you know so much about the war, are you into that whole reenactment scene?”
Heather waved off the question, “No, but Adam is big into it. He’s been mad for it ever since he found out that there was a skirmish fought around here. He has dragged me off to countless battlefieand and reenactments, even when I was pregnant! You should have seen me, big as a whale and having to waddle around those dusty old fields.” She rolled her eyes, “You’d think the war was still being fought the way him and his buddies carry on.”
“There was fighting around here?” Miriam asked a bit surprised. She knew there were countless battle fields around the south, most of them unknown little places where only a few hundred soldiers had fought and died. But she had never lived near one, and it felt rather creepy knowing that those quaint, peaceful fields that surrounded her house was once the scene of so much death and brutality.
Heather nodded, “A bit, it was during Sherman’s march to the sea, He came though here and part of Longstreet’s rear guard that wasn’t tied up in Virginia marched down to stop him. But they were pretty much out numbered. From what Adam said, it was quite a massacre.” She eyed Miriam, debating if she should tell her the rest or not. Feeling that Miriam had the right to at least know about the history of her own home Heather continued, “You know this house was used as a hospital after the battle. Some of the town folks thinks it haunted, it use to be quite the dare to walk past this place at night.”
Miriam shook her head, “I’ve never believed in ghost. But thanks for telling me about the house. It explains some of the rather odd looks I get in town when I tell which house I bought.”
Heather laughed her warm throaty laugh, “Oh don’t let them old battle axes bother you. I tell you one thing, most of the town’s members are very happy that you restored this old place. It was quite an eyesore before you bought it; but because of its history no one wanted to have it torn down.”
“Well we should get started with you;” Miriam said, setting aside the confederate portrait, “I don’t want to lose this light and the morning is waning quickly”
Heather, nodded, shamelessly discarding her clothes and letting Miriam arrange her on a small velvet divan near one of the windows where the morning light was bright but not harsh. Miriam picked up her sketch pad and charcoals; electing to quickly sketch in the lines and details before moving on to the water colors. Before long she had quite forgotten about the odd visitor to her dream.