Metal Angel Read Online Free PDF

sweetness of his mouth, lips dusky pink amid his dun skin. But when she awoke (softly panting, feeling the heat between her legs) she thought first of how he had stood spraddle-legged in blue jeans that bulged at the crotch. A—an erection? Or his—equipment, maybe it was bigger than other men’s? And how the bloody blazes would she ever know? Fiercely she hated her life, she wanted to know these things, to see—she had never seen the penis of any man. Ennis would not let her even feel his with her hands. She knew it only as a blunt, springy thing entering her in the dark. But the man in her dream had looked as if …
    Had he seen her?
    It had been more than just a dream. As she became less aroused and more lucidly awake, she felt quite sure it had been much more. A holy visitation? Hardly. More like a—a demon standing over her as she lay vulnerable in dreams, an incubus. This nighttime vision was satanic; the tingle between her thighs told her that. She should pray.
    Instead, with a feeling of restless urgency, she left the bed where Ennis lay soundly sleeping, went with soft barefoot steps to the linen closet in the hallway, and pulled her pad of tablet paper out from its back corner. In the bathroom, behind a locked door, sitting on the hard toilet lid, she finished her song.
    Yah yah yah yah yah
    I WANT TO LIVE
    Show this angel where they keep the cookies .
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    I WANT TO LIVE
    Show me who to give my candy bar to .
    Ow ow ow ow wow
    I WANT TO LIVE
    Show me how to get your trousers down
    Show me what oh devil lover show me
    Why please show me why
    I want to live I WANT TO LIVE
    Before I die .
    She recopied the finished lyric and sat looking at it awhile. Tore her rough draft into tiny shreds and flushed it down the john. Waited to make sure she hadn’t woken anyone. Then took her finished song, folded it in and in on itself and gave it back to the linen closet, to an envelope containing perhaps a dozen others she thought worth keeping. Worth hiding. And maybe the devil knew what she would ever do with them.
    She seldom left the marriage bed, no matter how cramped and smothered she felt, no matter how much Ennis breathed in her face. It seemed to her that if she got up and prowled the dark, even within the confines of her own house, she would be somehow endangering the marital bond, betraying the wedding vows. Thoughts of a peril vague as the nighttime shadows always kept her lying still—but on this night other thoughts were stronger. For the first time ever at night she took her radio out of its hiding place and carried it softly down the stairs, down to the basement, where until nearly dawn she sat shivering in her nightgown on the chilly concrete steps and listening to the forbidden music, trying to draw in stations from farther and farther away, maybe even from California.
    In a bar in the Boystown area of West Hollywood, fruit-flavored vodka at his fingertips, Mercedes Kell sat waiting for a long-expected annunciation and listening to a drunk claiming he had seen an angel.
    The drunk was vehement. “Publicity stunt,” the bartender tried to soothe him.
    â€œWho the hell wants publicity at three in the morning? A warm squeeze is whatcha want at three in the morning. Doncha? Ain’t that what you want?”
    The bartender ignored the latter questions in favor of the first one. “Some wannabe, I mean, trying to get seen. Going around the hot spots.”
    â€œOn Sunset?”
    â€œDorkhead,” another drinker put in patronizingly, moving over next to him, “people with halos don’t go to Sunset after dark. People in favor of safe sex don’t go to Sunset after dark. What the hell would an angel be doing on Sunset?”
    â€œLooking for a fifty-dollar fuck,” Mercedes suggested down the length of the bar.
    Three heads turned to look at him, but only the drunk who had sighted the angel seemed really to hear. “Don’t