The Seat of Power
j.d. Daniels


“It is, of course, unblendable, of an emulsion that displeases the eye.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jennifer said, gazing at a woman in a kimono standing nearby under a cherry tree. “All I was saying is that the city planners didn’t do a great job of blending ancient Toyko with the modern one.”

Jennifer pulled at her mini-skirt and glanced at the toe of her high heels.  Just as she thought, a speck of dust.  She bent and flicked it off, then straightening gazed at a cluster of red, white and lavender petunias growing in the Hama Rikyu Gardens.  “Isn’t this totally awesome!” she said, wiping her brow. 

He smiled at her, placing his hand on her right cheek. “Why, Professor Reyda,” she cooed, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you liked me.”

He chuckled and pulled her close, running the fingers of his free hand through his graying hair. She pouted.  It was a steamy, hot August day.  Why hadn’t they taken the trip on Spring Break when she’d wanted to?  She settled on a bench that was shaded.  She was a freshman at Cal State and instead of taking this trip then with her new lover she’d been forced to join a group of other freshmen in Cancun.  How boring.  Older men were so much more interesting.  At least, that’s what she’d thought until she’d gone to the internet café last night--alone.

Her cell phone buzzed.  Smiling, she removed it from her Armani messenger bag and walked out of earshot.  “Hi, Mitsuo, I was wondering if you’d call,” she said in a soft voice.

They chatted for a few seconds, then: “Do you want to meet tonight at a club near your hotel?” 

She glanced at John.  He was reading his travel guide.  She memorized the address.  After all, the professor was the same age as her dad.  She’d restrained herself far too many times.  She walked toward him. “You’re parents?”  John asked. 

“Yeah.”

“They don’t suspect anything, right?” His eye twitched.

“Hey, don’t go all emo on me!  Everything’s fine.”

“Let’s take the train back.  All this walking has me bushed.”

After a quiet dinner in the hotel restaurant, John led her to the room.  “Let’s make it an early night,” he said.

She was more than happy to agree.

At 11p.m. Jennifer sat in the chair by the window watching John sleep.  He was such a kind man, paying for this trip and all.  She was so lucky.  Twisting her right foot, she slid her foot into her newest pair of heels he had given her, smiled and pushed off the chair.


First published: August, 2010
comments to the writer: doorknobsandbodypaint@gmail.com