The car ride to the upper district in the early hours of the morning is always cold and lonely in more ways than one. Tabatha told me the old man paid in full just a couple of hours ago, it’s a good thing he is nice. I park in his driveway a little bit past four in the morning.

I turn on the lights in the kitchen and start setting up for breakfast. I’ve learned that if only use the oven I have more time to do other things, set and forget I guess. I think the old man will like salmon and eggs; well that’s what was in the fridge so he has no choice now.

I make my way upstairs, and turn on the lights to the empty bedrooms, in what used to be his son’s I turn the TV on. Making my way into the master bedroom is easy, this one snores. I strip and slip into his wife’s old P.J’s and nestle next to him under the covers. The clock ticks away slowly, I watch the seconds hand groggily make its way around and around. At five past five he rolls over and puts his frail arm around my waist, blissfully unaware at the shivers running down my spine.

Twenty minutes later I get out of bed, put on a robe, and walk back downstairs to make his meal presentable. I work quietly enough that I can hear him change, shower and sing a little tune to the morning. I can even hear him walk into the empty bedrooms and reprimand the children that aren’t there for leaving their lights on all night. From what I know he has been alone for the past ten years, you wouldn’t know by the way he talks to them.

I have his plate ready when he walks in wearing his same old suit and shoes. His hair is neatly parted at one side and his face is shaven. His tie is straight but he stands in front of me waiting for it to be fixed. He reads his paper and I scroll through my phone, which he hates. He kisses my cheek and calls me Martha as he leaves.

I walk around the house pretending to dust and putting things back where they are supposed to go. He does this to make sure I keep the fantasy going even when he isn’t around. While I do this I normally listen to music, but Tabatha had the day off so we chat the hours away. At noon he sent me a text to get the webcam ready for his lunch.

When I get on his video is dark, but he tells me to go on just the same. While I pretend to moan with pleasure, I can hear him eating. I can also hear other men breathing heavily, no doubt feigning an itch just to be able to touch themselves. I can see the old geezers now, staring wide eyed at the screen as mine basks in what little respect this gains him. I hear a few of them leave the room, I’m sure to finish in their own offices. The connection is lost but I haven’t finished, so I record the rest for Tabatha to sell.

I pull out the most wonder full roast from the oven and set the table as he pulls up in the driveway. He goes straight upstairs for his after pre-dinner shower; I sit and wait for him like a good pretend wife. He finally comes down and we have a nice meal together. He talks to me about Jeffery Domingo and how he will make the company a terrible place with his modern ideas. I know Jeff, I know him well. I told him about the deal I made buying eggs, and how the girls think I should cut my hair short. He scoffs and goes on to tell me his plans of world domination though carful accounting and grade A patriotism.

When it’s time for bed, I help him out of his day clothes and into his best night attire, grey stripped Pajamas. Half way through putting on his wife’s nightgown, he touches my back and kisses my neck. We fall to the bed and he takes me harder than any old man I know. He doesn’t fall asleep until ten, by ten after I’m in the restroom washing him off and out of me. I get another text form the boss woman telling me that I’m paid for through the week.

-Erica

By: Patrica

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