Rena’s Mazerati Sunset

Mazerati Sunset

Rena and I sat on our hillside watching the western sky turn into a rainbow, and
then beheld the first stars appear in the thalo blue richness of the sky. This
was to be our last night on our mountain before we descend to the land of
mortals below.

I sat above her, and thus she used my legs and knees like a thrown, a leather
bucket seat, her beautiful arms resting on me as I caressed her shoulders. A
warm wind came up through the pines and oaks, and the strong smell of dry golden
grass was like a perfume that still lingers. This aroma is my solace, at knowing
what she had in store, for herself, just herself.

This beautiful Midwest girl was born in the body of Ferrari, a Mazerati, in a
little town in Nebraska, and for seventeen years she lived like a old…