The Sink Was Full Of Fishes

Jill couldn't sleep that night, nevertheless it would have been useful for him to do it before the morning after,when at a very early hour he would have got to drive towards Glastonbury to get a chance to reach the below stage line for himself and all his friends.But it wasn't the thrill for the incoming show makin him sleepless: Melania's story had disturbed him; it drove him to envy towards her for having met his idols and at the same time it made him feel expropriated by them for they were capable to gift her with a special euphoria. Other men brought back happiness into her heart and in Dowland's one there were two passions conflicting, or maybe three.
He thought with regret that night his beloved one wouldn't have shed no tears, and in fact, even sleepy, she had the same smile she went back with at the hotel... It was a smile he felt excluded from, if not properly derided. He stretched the hand towards her to caress, but then he tugged the sheet that barely covered her; it was very hot in their room.
She wasn't use to sleep supine like she was doing that night: slightly towards him, one leg a bit more bended than the other, the feline back and the beautiful bottom round and firm that softly was goin down with artistic curve till her shapely legs, with the knees imperceptiblely turned inside which she bashed, with her perfectionist eye, like "crooked", all time... the calves then, and then her sweet and small feet, so proportioned, small and sweet like her hands as well, and like her breast, divine in Jill's eyes and that he couldn't avoid to adore.
If she had slept on her back, over his fairy's adored breasts he would have posed the head; if she had slept with the belly up, he would have used Melania's adolescent-like, yet sensous and motherly chest as the most desired pillow ever to detach himself from a reality he was finding at the moment sarchastic and irritating.
How was he going to survive after she would have left?
The need of rest won eventually over his body but it did not on his negative perceptions, so the worst of nightmares he was submitted at was a dark companion he couldn't erase, floating like a deceitful shadow in all onirical visions elaborated by his brain that night.
In everyone's dreams, even those which look realistic, there's always an odd, illogical component that makes disjointed it all: rules of space and rules of time vanish, and one can experience ubiquity, or more. Jill then became at once onlooker and protagonist of a turbid scene.
One door opened on a big bathroom, clean and well furnished, with a parental bed placed in the middle instead of the pool and a bookcase instead of the rug. There's a light which could come from a window, filtering a warm, luminous Summer sun, but there are not windows in the room, while from the bed it comes the evident sound of panting people having a burning sexual exchange, and one of people's voice has got very remarkable and known way to wheez her pleasure out. An external eye now can witness the scene, Jill sees himself out from the bathroom climbing down stairs and coming there as well; but another Jill is already there, kneeling near to the bed. Everything's dominated by persistent anguish... The one Jill who has just arrived from the stairs stretches the cover from the lovers out, and it dissolves in his hands, without anyone noticing about him, his gesture or his presence, as the lovers keep to make one another. They don't show their faces, no one of the versions of Jill is capable to distinguish them, no matter if they appear totally and from various corners, their identity remains unclear, while all Jills turn and turn and turn around the bed. Jill can't see, but he knows the bold screams, he guess at the energic body riding satisfied the other, without understanding why the Jill at the bottom of the bed stays crouched and unable to move towards them and stop the love-making. Why the hands all Jills around the bed lead to stop it won't rub at all their bodies? Why all this pain? Impotence.. and a vortex that sucks in all intentions... Those delighted moanings... Nooooooooooooooooooo!