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I'll be right back", he handed me his phone wrapped tightly in a little blue handkerchief. And then he was off, running back toward his home in the sheets of rain. I thought I glimpsed him turn back once as he ran, and I imagined that half-smile as he did, before disappearing into the darkness across the road. I felt so lost, confused, happy and mixed-up in that moment. And for a split second, i felt as if the raindrops were falling up up into the night sky, and away...I could'nt help it. I wasn't myself anymore. Once back inside, I shut the door behind me, leaned back against it, and slid out Justin's phone from the handkerchief. Rubbed my fingers over it carefully. It was warm. Suddenly precious to me. I could feel its power, the electric surge within. I pressed some buttons and flipped thru it, searching for anything - pictures? music? I dont know. And then I saw it - his internet browser's search history. My heart raced. It displayed pages upon pages of gay porn links. I couldnt. The wormwood gave some trouble in the attainment, but I had finally succeeded. While waiting for my servants to prepare dinner, Oliver amused himself playing with Chesterton and my other, very shy cat Griselda (Oliver was the only person besides myself and my late husband whom she allowed to pet her) and this gave me the time I needed. I quickly created a tincture and poured it into the absinthe. We had Oliver’s favourite dishes for dinner, and a good stout Burgundy. He was already in a pleasant and sophorific state by the time we retired to the study. I presented him with a humidor of the finest Cuban cigars and I sat and watched him smoke. Then I said: ‘Oliver, my dear, I wish to serve you absinthe – have you ever had it before?’ ‘Alas no, Betsy my dear’ he replied most amiably. ‘But I sense that I will remain absinthe virgin only a little while yet.’ It occurred to me that I might succeed in seducing him at that moment without the help of my conjuring arts, so mellow was he, so.
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