Dust and Drivel

Today I wanted to grab Caspar, go into the local café and frighten the little mousy waitresses while they gawked at him but unfortunately the Vanderhaven creature demanded he go plan her hideous Opener. I only go so I can make matrons shiver with discomfort while I gaze in rapture at the bosoms of their daughters or if I am feeling especially vicious I will stand beside the men and gaze with rapture at the nether regions of their sons. Sometimes I might even suggest a little intimate knowledge that they would rather rip their ears off than hear, life can be so delicious at times. Yet these same harridans who whisk their sons from my view will toss their daughters into the lion’s den in the hope that one may pique my fancy enough or initiate a lust resilient enough to create the bonds of matrimony.

Absence whilst making the heart grow fonder for others, induces in me a languor that increases my destructive urges. I spend a disgruntled day in my office searching for business rivals to decimate while insinuating to terrified secretaries I might consume them for my lunch, it is amazing how much abuse people will take if they are compensated adequately. Ambitious aides, those from echelons far beneath me avail themselves to the Dubois Corporation in the hopes of acquiring a position of favour. Those who work beneath me enjoy a state of often having more influence than heads of industry, the price—and there always is one, is having to deal with the caprices of a man who has no boundaries.

Unfortunately nothing I ventured could take the taste of boredom from my soul, an unspecified discontent dallied in my thoughts and teased my loins until I could not withstand the desire and in a fit of weakness phoned a little songbird to come and play. She was not much enthused by my summons but she understands where the next rung on her ladder lies and as with everyone else in this town, it lies with me. This yearning is tantamount to weakness and something I will endeavour to suppress for I have no time to be annoyed by human frailty. I enjoy a life devoid of emotional responsibility, not that I avoid it but more in the fact that I do not care for anything than my own agendas. I use, abuse, amuse, refuse, according to my whims and the necessity of keeping this town on notice that their lives belong to the one who holds the key to the bank, to me. It was this divine discontent, a stirring in my blood, I suddenly felt myself connected to something that was not within my world, not of my creation and the strangeness of this situation had me unable to enjoy new vistas. I had to face the unholy truth of my predicament and it clarified my reluctance to accept that I was searching for the one who could match me, the one who glowed and captured my mind, the one for whom--- if I had a heart I swear it would be hers.

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