What would you do with 2,695 gold coins that were your random inheritance?
Thought I’d try some prose out…
sinister : gold
He put his lips to mine and hissed, gold, into my open mouth. As he spoke the word turned to coin, I swear I swallowed it. Midas’ bride, hopeless. He shifts through the stacks of bullion, stacking them into heavy piles, expertly handling them and lovingly shining their used bodies. There are chests under the bed, one buried in the backgarden, one put down an old disused well, and one beneath the orange tree where he’d first said he loved me.
He rolls a spare twenty into a tight cigarette and inserts it into the spine of a book, one of the ones that gape, the cardboard binding springing free. He gambles when he wakes up, I feel lucky today, every morning coffee and roulette. The groans of him when he loses, plummeting sighs. I stay in bed and think about spending.
This morning will be different. I squeeze a lemon, screwing it round and round the juicer till the skin is a rag of itself. The pips slime in the drain. It wasn’t always like this. I just put enough in to knock him out. The lemon helps hide the flavour. While he sleeps I’ll go on a shopping spree; plane ticket, cheekbones.