The problem was she wasn’t supposed to, but she did.
It was frowned upon but truly forbidden fruit seems so much more enticing, even if you never get a taste. But a taste is what she wanted.
She wanted it in day-time dreamings, at night, at odd times, even in meetings.
It was a confection, something sweet which her mind produced, and, she eagerly ate of it like a ripe pomegranate which gave her a blood red smile.
It was a layering; it would come to her first and she would say to herself "I should not think of it," She put something else into her mind, new thoughts "Incoming" whose function was to dislodge the thought she shouldn’t be having and sometimes Incoming did.
Sometimes she would punish herself and make the two thoughts merge which had the effect of washing out the first forbidden one and help to make it fade. But it never faded entirely and she was left with a hybrid which lost a little of its heat and allowed her to concentrate on the task at hand until the next Incoming came, the next vision.
At times there was the ambush. She would be doing something and finding herself there with the thought, with the feeling, with the vision before she was aware of what she was doing; or until someone broke the spell asking her if she was ok.
She was not, and she would try to remember what had been said, or to fake like she had heard or understood when she had not.
Something new started to happen; she would find herself staring at someone’s face, eye or nose and it would trigger the impulse and with a start she would bring herself back before anyone noticed.
And then the physical; there would be hot flashes which suddenly without warning would rampage through her body, so strong she would look up to see if others noticed, if she was turning red.
She would take the thoughts and wrap around them other thoughts to camouflage the real one she was having-- what’s for dinner, appointments, errands--all wrapped around the one which had the hold on her.
She was in its grips and she would have to do something about it.
So when hubby took the kids fishing, she got ready; time to look this thing in the face.
She found herself making preparations even before the fishing trip. She knew what she was doing but she continued to hide it from herself. But the edges of it began to creep through.
She went to the mall and bought the item which forced the ideas more to the fore without letting her acknowledge what she was planning. Maybe she did know, maybe she did not know but it was down deep in her mind and did not come up to where it entered her her thinking clearly.
She went to the cabin for two hours and cleaned, prepared things, saying to herself this was just routine. Yet even in the cleaning there was purpose which one part of her mind knew and one part of her mind did not know the purpose of her activity there.
She had gone to the catalog and surveyed her choices there and found one she fell in love with and took her household savings and sent off for it.
That act was so deliberate, so clear that it, from that point, it was made clear even to her other self what see was doing, not what specifcally she was doing, but what she wanted it to involve.
It was not going to be a one time thing. Her mind was settling on that. It would be something she could do again and again if she liked and that would take a little more planning.
She got really excited with the idea that she had freedom to do it again and again. It was liberating. It made her feel like a girl again, no not a girl, like a woman.
By fishing day she raised her hand to wave goodbye brimming with anticipation and her own expectations.
She checked the house to be sure things were turned off and she collected her cell phone and her over-night bag and some fresh things she thought she would need.
It would only be for the night she told herself. More than that and she could be discovered. Someone might call, someone might come by and discovered she was missing.
Hubby could come back unexpectedly or there could be some emergency.
She looked back at the house carefully surveying her neighbors windows to see if any drape was opened slightly, especially Barbara's because Barbara will like a spy, a spy that spied on everything and every one on the block.
Barbar's house was dark in this early morning hour and she quietly got into the car and let the car door close quietly and allowed the vehicle to edge down the block at twenty miles per hour until she was a block away where she made a slow turn away from her true destination. She did not want any witness to say what highway she took if she had been in fact observed.
Doing a full circle she hit highway 80, entered the ramp and was at 60 in minutes, exploding with anticipation.
She didn't notice Barbara's Subaru two cars behind her.