Quintessence of Dust
Page 17
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John had met Alison while in a library searching for jobs. She was reading The Reformation Theologians: An Introduction to Theology in the Early Modern Period by Carter Lindberg, a heavy read that intimidated him. To strike up conversation, he asked the librarian for the same book, who made a point of raising her voice to tell him it was currently being read. Alison looked up from the book and that was enough for John to approach her. They talked quietly for over an hour. John discovered that they both enjoyed history. Alison had a lovely smile and when she spoke about Henry VIII, John didn’t hear a word because the world around him had dissolved away and all that existed was her smile. They exchanged numbers and John rang her that night, asking questions that made her more endearing, damaged, wistful, tragic, and perfect. Alison was studying history at the local university and hoped one day to be a teacher. John said he had a teaching degree and wanted to be a teacher too, and when she asked why he wasn’t, he told her a Minotaur had got in the way. Alison promised John she’d help him find his way to teaching, and she did. When the Minotaur found out John had a girlfriend, he asked if she was good in bed. It had been two weeks and John did not want to rush Alison. He enjoyed her company, and that was more important to him than sex. He told the Minotaur this and he replied, “Dick tease, then?”
All the years of living in the Minotaur’s huge shadow, of being the one who needed protecting, finally turned into anger. John threw back his fist and hit the Minotaur’s long, solid head. The pain was immense as the bones shook and splintered in his hand. The strike was not expected and the Minotaur stumbled on his hooves. A red veil descended, the world muted by a crimson hue. John launched another attack on the Minotaur, knocking him to the floor, and there he beat his face until those fearless large brown eyes closed. Not once did the Minotaur strike back.