Once the late evening rain ceased, a gentle sea breeze wandered into the void. A fresh fragrance from the conifer hedge drifted through a wide open window of the master bedroom. Anthony and Connie moved into a deeper sleep, unconscious of their bodies’ joy in the rejuvenating cool air. Earlier they had tossed and turned before dozing off in the energy-sapping sultry atmosphere that recently had a hold of the Mornington Peninsula. The sea breeze did not blow alone as it ventured further into the bedroom. It carried someone uninvited from an ancient time – a time when stories were chiselled in stone and editing of them a crime.
In the moment before wakening, Anthony felt a thrusting pelvis press upon him. The cotton sheet he had slept under lay strewn on the floor. Finger nails gently scratched his shoulder blades. From her warm breath floated Kapet incense. A talcum like powder with a subtle vanilla scent covered her being. He saw hazel eyes through her woven feathered mask.
‘You are perfect,’ she said in an Aramaic tongue. She then faded as did the breeze.