Jon Ureña's Blog, page 64

My Own Desert Places, Pt. 21 (GPT-3 fueled short)

Link for this part on my personal page, where it looks better

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I have taken the habit of enjoying my breakfast on the balcony of the second floor, as long as it doesn't rain. I sit wearily on an iron chair at the table, facing the neighboring countryside. This chair is so sturdy that I never have to worry about the wind pushing it around. I enjoy the slight morning breeze as I drink my coffee, and I gaze upon the outlook. Green rolling hills as far as the eye can see, a pleasant view marred only by a couple of electric towers and isolated farmhouses among fenced grazing fields and small groves. In the horizon rise the two peaks of a mountain, name unknown.
I had intended to leave Alazne sleeping, but the noise I made when I was preparing my breakfast must have woken her up, because I hear her footsteps approaching me from the hallway behind me. She's coming into the balcony as she holds a fresh cup of coffee from the coffee maker I bought recently. She smiles at me warmly, then sits down on the iron chair next to me. She's wearing baby blue pyjama bottoms adorned with cat silhouettes, and a white shirt showing the protagonist from 'Goodnight Punpun' in his black, elongated head, multi-eyed version. Her light brown hair is tied back in a ponytail except for a couple of rebellious locks.
"How are you today?" I ask as I try to avoid staring at her breasts.
"Fine. You?"
"Same."
I am apprehensive. Yesterday I couldn't take anymore how much Alazne suffered because I needed to lie about my nature as a ghost, so I pacified her with the lie I also told Asier's ex-fiancée Ainhoa: that the car accident Asier had suffered, which had granted him his wish to die, had erased most of the memories of my past before the crash. If I had pondered about the pros and cons of deceiving Alazne further, I would have figured out some other solution, but I can't turn back time now.
And last night I suffered the first consequence: we didn't have sex. For the first day since that fabled night in which I conquered Alazne's holy pussy with both my penis and my mouth, we hadn't gone a day without repeating the same ritual with some variation. However, last night, around an hour after we ate dinner, Alazne announced that she wanted us to watch a movie in bed. It was Makoto Shinkai's 'Your Name'. Alazne had already seen it at her previous home a few years ago, before the day I heard her playing guitar for the first time. I had only caught bits and pieces of the movie over the years, when I wandered into people's houses, and I didn't know what it was called. So I sat with my back against the headboard, Alazne leaned back against me, and for the time the movie lasted I hugged her chest under the sheets while I watched the laptop screen, which she appropriately propped up on her lap.
I guess Alazne had forgotten most of the events of the movie, or maybe the narrative is just that powerful, because she cried profusely at a couple of moments, and right by the end I'm ashamed to admit that I shed some manly tears, although hopefully my girlfriend didn't notice. When the movie finished, Alazne turned around, hugged me tight and we made out heavily for a good while, so the romantic movie fulfilled its purpose. However, when I tried to unfasten her bra she told me that she didn't want to fuck, just for me to hold her tight and sleep facing her. I panicked internally, and feared something was seriously wrong. She must have known how hard I was by how my penis was digging into her abdomen, but Alazne just curled up against me, with her hands between our chests, and fell asleep with a placid smile on her lips.
I hadn't noticed that I lost myself worrying about last night's events, and when I switch back to reality, I find myself looking down at the foam in my coffee. As I take a drink I realize that Alazne is gazing at the wound on my forehead, now mostly a scar, so blatantly that it seems rude even to me.
Nervous, I take a sip of coffee, and then I slide the tip of my index finger along the wound.
"I hope that over time it won't look discolored, but I guess nothing will prevent me from sporting a conspicuous scar. I wish it could have crossed my eyebrow or something badass like that. So close to my hairline it just looks wrong."
"Well, I love you anyway," she says with a sweet smile.
"Everyone loves a war hero. That's what we could tell people anyway. Not that I went and crashed my car because..." Because Asier veered deliberately into incoming traffic. I haven't told this to Alazne, have I? "... Because I'm a moron who can't drive properly. It was a nasty crash, bad enough that I died for a moment."
"Asier, did the doctors check you for brain damage? They must have, right?" Alazne asks in an unconcerned tone for what she's asking.
"It's not my mind that's damaged, it's my heart. I must have been a lonely, sad man to drive so recklessly. But yes, the doctors did check, and apparently the only lasting damage to my brain is having lost most of my memories. Which I guess is a very serious issue, but... I embrace it, given that the person this body belonged to before the accident was a rotten bastard."
A sudden movement in the countryside distracts me enough to divert my attention to it. A man, who may be a farmer, is walking through one of the fenced grazing fields maybe two hundred meters away. There's nobody else out, even though it's a pleasant morning at around nine and a half. I follow the guy with my gaze for a few seconds until he disappears in the shade of some trees.
When I focus on Alazne again, she's not trying to disguise the pity she feels for me. I shift my weight in my chair.
"Alazne, please don't look at me like that. I'm telling you, I'm fine. I have no clue how the... previous owner of this body felt before the accident, but I'm doing okay, apart from some occasional confusion."
Alazne reaches with her hand to touch my shoulder, then her fingertips slide down to the inside of my elbow, where she lets her hand linger.
"I'm just worried about you, and want what's best for you. I can't imagine spending my life with anybody else. You know that."
I swallow a sudden flash of warmth in my throat.
"I do. I feel the same way."
"And... I think you should go back to get checked. You have been irresponsible with your recovery. In the beginning I thought it was a nasty enough crash in which you hit your head, and that was that, but you literally died for a few seconds. You could have ended up... the only way I can think of calling it is a vegetable. Forever lying in bed with barely any brain function. And having lost your memories is not something you should just brush off. I need you to be well."
I grab her hand and squeeze it. She squeezes back. Her hand is warm, an even more pleasant sensation than usual in such a nice, quiet morning. I stare at the pale, freckled face and those hazel eyes of my beloved for a few seconds, as the birds chirp to each other.
"I'm fine, sweetie. But you are right, I'll go to the hospital in Donostia and ask them to do some tests. I suppose they'll agree that they are necessary. Whatever they want. I'll call later."
Alazne nods, then narrows her eyes with gratitude.
"Thank you. Tell me if you feel weird at any point, alright? I'm here for you."
"I will also write in my will that if I die for whatever reason you'll get to have this house and the money I hoard. And the stock portfolio, I guess. So you'll be fine either way."
If I had thought, before the words already left my mouth, about what reaction Alazne would have, I suppose I would have expected her to chuckle, and maybe hit my arm playfully, but she snaps her head back and her eyes get teary. She frowns.
"Don't joke around like that," she says. "I want you here, present, with me. It's not about your things."
I stare open-mouthed, and I can't help but avert my eyes.
"I know, I was--"
"No, do not finish that sentence," Alazne interrupts with a sharper tone in her voice. "If you die, everything will be awful, and I don't want to think about it happening. You are not to die, ever."
I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. She's trembling.
"You kind of gave me an impossible task," I say in a low voice. "I will always try not to die. For you, and for me. Because your happiness is my happiness, and your unhappiness would be unbearable. That's the whole point of how I ended up being with you."
When I pull away, she looks down as if embarrassed of herself.
"Don't worry," I say. "Besides, I'm your rock, remember? I'm the big, tough guy who can crush people's heads like balloons. That's the kind of man you need."
I give a meek smile, and she looks up at me.
"No, you are not," Alazne states.
A shiver runs through my spine. I feel a rush of panic. I fucked up, didn't I? I'm quite sure that as I was preparing myself to admit this supposed memory loss, I had realized that Alazne needed, her tastes in men demanded, an invulnerable ravaging monster who would be able to keep her safe, and save her from having to doubt or make decisions if necessary. That had been the role I had played from the moment I met her. Back when I was a ghost I had the privileged opportunity of learning every little detail of Alazne's masturbatory fantasies, and they rarely diverged from a tall, strong father figure who would treat the female actress like his little princess. A princess who needed to be held down and spanked from time to time. Even if she would deny those urges to her dying day, there's no doubt that's what she yearns for.
"You are not my rock," she says. "Rock is a silly, weak thing to be. The world is made of rocks, but you are a mountain. Mountains do not move. Mountains last forever. You are my mountain, and I love you."
This time I'm the one who blushes. I'd say that the world is also made of mountains, but I don't intend to contradict my beloved.
"That's... Thank you," I say in a thin voice.
Alazne keeps staring at me while smiling. I wish I knew what she's thinking. I had a closer relationship with her back when she couldn't see me nor feel my presence, because I didn't need to deal with the layer of acting, inevitable when you are interacting with another human being, even the person one loves the most. I fell in love with her when she believed nobody would care if she died.
Alazne lowers her head for a moment, and her smile falters.
"I'm not... sure if I acknowledged you as a human being to the extent that I know myself to be."
"W-what do you mean?" I ask, taken aback.
Alazne sighs. She forces herself to hold my gaze.
"I needed someone to drag me out of my hole. I think I told you that. I dreamt of someone doing so, a man strong enough that he could handle how much of a disaster I am. You were that person, straight out of my daydreams. I suppose that I let myself go along with a delusion."
"I will be that man for you anytime, sweetie."
"No, you are not a figment of my imagination. You are a flesh-and-blood man who can get hurt and who has his own emotions which might not align with what would be convenient for that delusion. Do you get what I mean?"
I nod slowly.
"I understand. You are saying that now that you have found out a significant weakness of mine, that of having lost almost all of my life previous to my car accident, I'm not the strong man you needed."
I sounded more bitter than I intended. I can't blame Alazne for feeling that way. I suppose I'll have to deal with her being less attracted to this body sexually because I'm partially broken, and Alazne may believe that I need to be taken care of. I suddenly feel miserable.
Alazne realizes that I'm hurt, and she scoots her chair closer to me so she can put her hand on my cheek.
"I know that as a man you need to feel strong to protect me. And you are, that's not what I meant."
I give her a knowing look.
"But that's what you need. And I mean really need. Someone so strong and invulnerable that would make all the troubles in your life seem insignificant. Is that not the case?"
"Well... Fantasies are one thing, Asier."
I'm getting annoyed. Maybe I'm learning a thing or two about masculine pride.
"I'm going to be real with you, Alazne, because I don't believe we should talk around the issue. It's just you and I, after all. Well... And Kateryna, of course, if she's listening. My point is that I have been inside you. Any time I close my eyes I can recreate that moment in your previous home when you were kneeling on the mattress and sucking my cock, which you are amazing at, by the way, and when I called you a good girl you almost came."
Alazne pulls her hand away from my cheek. She rests both hands on her knees while her eyes dart around as if thinking about my words. I wouldn't know how to answer to what I said, to be fair.
"You want a man who would be strict with you, take you over his knee when you acted out," I say. "Your insides have never squeezed me as tight as when I was overpowering you and pretending to be your daddy."
She remains quiet for a while, as if deep in thought. I take a sip of my coffee. Alazne glances over at me, her eyes narrow and her cheeks red.
"Do you find me disgusting, then?" she asks in a vulnerable voice, as if fearing I would reject her.
"Not at all, Alazne. It makes me horny as hell."
She sighs, then fidgets with the hem of her shirt.
"A-at the moment I was so... turned on that I didn't think about what I was saying. If I had, I would have been terrified of you leaving me immediately. I have felt bad about having these needs, you know..."
I take her hand into mine, then lean in to press my lips against hers.
"Alazne, you're perfect to me. And every fetish, even far more deranged than any of yours, is fine between two consenting adults, as far as I'm concerned. Last night I was more than ready to provide for my precious girl what she needs, but she didn't want to. It's fine not to want it, of course, but you have to understand: that very same afternoon I opened up about a big weakness of mine, and a few hours later you didn't want to have sex with me. That made me seriously worried about how our relationship had changed."
She moves her lips down to my palm, and gently puts a kiss on it.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think of it that way. It's just that... It's really hard for me to put in words. But last night was a lot for me."
"What do you mean?"
She takes a deep breath, then gets closer to me.
"I thought I was already as close as I could be with you, but after we watched the movie and we made out, I just needed you to hold me in your arms so I could fall asleep. I had never felt as connected with another human being. And I have slept without a worry in the world."
"That's... really sweet of you to say. I feel like a bastard now for complaining that I wanted to have sex and you didn't."
She chuckles, then brings her lips to my ear.
"If you thought that our sex life would end, you were mistaken," Alazne whispers. "Now that we can talk openly about all the dirty stuff we yearn for... We will take good care of each other."
She breaks off the whisper and brings her lips to mine, kissing me sweetly.
I can't tell how much time we spend kissing as the breeze brushes our hair and chills our skin. The sound of an engine turning on distracts me from Alazne's tongue. We both look towards the asphalt below and get to see veiled human faces behind the windows of a minivan as it drives out of the gated community. Once it leaves, it turns in the direction of the city center, and eventually the unpleasant sound of the engine disappears under the singing of birds and the rustling of leaves.
"So we do have neighbors after all," Alazne says, then takes a drink of her coffee. "Oops, it's gone cold."
"Yeah, I don't know what's going on with this community of ours... But I'm glad you're here with me."
Alazne grins.
"Me too. It's nice to share a quiet morning with someone after our previous long, exhausting day of labor."
We both laugh. When we stop, Alazne stares at me fondly, as if she figures she can say something important to me.
"Listen, I want to do something out there, like with a group."
"Oh? Like what? You mean like a part-time job?"
Alazne shivers.
"Goodness, no... Unless you ask me to contribute in that way, I don't want to, to be honest. I meant like a course. Engaging with a group for a communal objective, you know? Learning new stuff, maybe..."
"What kind of group? What are you interested in learning?"
"I don't know. Maybe something to do with... with..."
"Guitar classes, for example? That would help you improve for sure. Not that you need them, mind you." I stroke my chin as I look at the sky. "But that's not exactly communal..."
"No, I was thinking something like... You know, I told you to write your experiences. Something along those lines. A writing course in the city."
Alazne, someone who when I met her could barely leave the house because her abysmal self-esteem and her anxiety threatened to suffocate her, now wants to meet new people and do activities with them. I feel proud. I want to squeeze her tight and let out embarrassing noises.
"That sounds wonderful," I say while grinning. "What prompted this need, though?"
"Back when I was holed up at my depressing apartment, I couldn't afford to turn my attention away from how I would earn enough money to pay my rent and utilities. Well, at the most I would lose myself in shows and manga so I could tolerate the overwhelming misery. I couldn't justify to myself spending my energy and resources in other... frivolous pursuits." She perks up. "But now I'm standing on such solid ground that I feel like I could do anything! Except that... there's the issue of how to pay for it."
I raise an eyebrow at her.
"Are you seriously going to pretend that money is an issue? Look around. We are the one percent."
"Unless you have several millions, or dozens or hundreds of millions in the bank, I wouldn't go that far... Hey, if you want me to do something for the money, that's alright with me."
I narrow my eyes at her and lower my head slightly.
"Then later I'll have you naked and kneeling on the mattress. You'll look up at me and plead. I may give you some money, if you have earned it."
Alazne turns red and starts laughing delicately.
"Alright, I won't tease you anymore."
"Good," I say while smiling. "I'll give you the money because you are my girl and I love you, of course. But it's not good for your dignity to keep asking me for money whenever you want to do something by yourself. Give me your account details when you want, and I'll put an automatic monthly transfer. A few hundreds is probably enough."
Alazne turns her head away from me instinctively, as if embarrassed, and wrings her hands over her lap. I wouldn't be comfortable if I had to ask for money, even to the love of my life, so I avert my eyes to give her space. As I take the last gulp of my cold coffee, I realize that a group of bronze-colored cows is grazing in a nearby field. A calf is lolling on the grass while a nearby adult cow gazes up at us as if looking out for danger. The poor cow doesn't know who she should fear.
Alazne sniffles, which startles me. Her parted lips are quivering, and tears keep streaming down her cheeks. She's silent otherwise. I pull her into me so she can bury her face in my neck, and I caress the back of her hair.
"Is... this a good cry or a bad one?" I ask cautiously.
Alazne doesn't say anything. Seconds later she pulls away, then she straightens her back and smiles softly. The morning sun makes her irises look as if they float right under the surface of a glass ball.

My Own Desert Places, Pt. 20 (GPT-3 fueled short)

Link for this part on my personal page, where it looks better

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My girlfriend Alazne, gifted with an obsessive personality, is enraptured by us having a ghost roommate. She keeps talking to Kateryna, describing her own activities and intentions in case the ghost feels lonely. I tended to do that as well in the beginning, but I think Kateryna and I, as we grew to know each other better, came to an understanding that most of the actions around the house were so mundane an uninteresting that describing them would annoy anyone, even a ghost sick of being trapped in the afterlife. Also, the more time I spend inhabiting this stolen body, the less interested I become in talking to ghosts. I see Kateryna as a friend and I treat her as if she just happened to be invisible, but I avoid addressing her current predicament, because her being a ghost reminds me that I will inevitably die some day. I didn't appreciate enough being alive during my first time through.
Alazne also insists on testing Kateryna's powers. A few times I witnessed my girlfriend arranging different kinds of objects, for example cutlery, her phone, random mangas she brought over, a lamp, an empty cardboard box, the stuffed seal she won at Monte Igueldo, etc. so Kateryna could lift them, hold them in the air, pivot them, or even throw them around. Alazne was mainly curious, I think, but Kateryna hadn't exercised her poltergeist powers as much as now that my girlfriend lives here. Maybe Alazne wants to train our ghost into becoming a more proficient poltergeister. Because Kateryna remains silent unless she's using the board, and even when she communicates through the planchette she can't transmit her emotions properly, I couldn't tell if Kateryna appreciated all this attention. It could be that she considered Alazne's insistence as pestering.
When my girlfriend wasn't talking to Kateryna, browsing the internet, watching anime, reading manga or playing the guitar in a bare room of the second floor, she had begun to enjoy cooking. We always prepared our meals together, given that neither of us had to work and we rarely left the house alone. Today we prepared a fairly decent meal of pesto tortellini with chicken, and as we are eating it at the living room dining table, Alazne, seated right next to the ouija board, keeps talking to Kateryna, who may feel that us eating in front of her is just a reminder that she will never get to eat anything ever again.
"How old are you, Kateryna, by the way? I can't believe I hadn't brought it up!" Alazne says as she chews.
The planchette moves as swiftly as usual, but from where I'm sitting I can only see the board sideways, so I don't catch the answer.
"What did she say?" I ask.
"Forever twenty five," Alazne says, then turns her head to the empty space next to her, intending to look at our ghost pal in the eyes. "For some reason I pictured you as an older, courtly lady from like the Russian aristocracy."
The planchette moves around, and Alazne chuckles.
"Kat said that I should feel honored. Yeah, I do. It's great being able to talk to a ghost and know that there's something waiting for us after we die, even if it is colorless and dreary. So you aren't from the Russian nobility, huh?"
The planchette slides around almost angrily.
"... Kat said 'all massacred by communist weasels'."
I shake my head, then pick up more tortellini with my fork.
"Yeah, I think they were governed by communists for a long time. And then they endured the whole Chernobyl thing. Quite a few refugees came here."
Alazne nods, and eats another forkful of pasta.
"I must have pictured you all wrong, Kateryna. How did you look back when you were alive?"
The planchette sputters across the board, spelling out words.
"... Yeah, I'm sorry, Kat," Alazne says in a low voice.
"What did she say?" I ask.
"That her body is now a skeleton in a dress."
"To be fair, I doubt the decomposition has advanced that much since you died. If I were to dig up your casket, Kat, you would probably still be recognizable."
Alazne winces as she chews, then turns her head to stare at the board, because Kateryna hasn't wasted time to reply.
"What's that?" I ask.
"Kat said 'when I was alive I was hottest in the world Asier said so'."
I gag on the bolus of tortellini, and I have to cough a few times as well as drink from my glass of water. I blink a couple of tears away.
"Yeah, I'm sure she was a real beauty," I say in a grating voice, "being Ukrainian and all. But I wouldn't know for sure, because nobody can see her. Isn't that the case, Kateryna?"
"Are you okay, my love?" Alazne asks me, worried. "Do you need me to hit you on the back?"
I feel a twinge of pain in my chest.
"I need you to hit me all over, sweetie. Just punish me and make a real mess of this body."
Alazne gets up, walks up to me and hugs me tightly while I rest my chin on her shoulder. She turns her head and kisses my cheek.
"We can always go into the bedroom and try new stuff like that. Not before we finish eating and digest the food enough, though."

I wanted Alazne to become acquainted with Hondarribia, even though I wasn't from here nor did I choose to settle in this city: it just happened that the man whose body I stole lived in its outskirts. Also, I loved taking walks with Alazne as she held on to my hand or to my arm and she kept talking without a care in the world. Leaving our home meant distancing ourselves temporarily from the only other person in this world who knows I'm a woman ghost wearing a very elaborate disguise. I feel that for Kateryna, isolated in the afterline and unwilling to seek out other ghosts because she's afraid of them, my horrifying secrets have become an inside joke, instead of damning information that would destroy my relationship with Alazne.
As my girlfriend and I walked through the residential neighborhoods and approached the center of the city, I kept feeling like I needed to look over my shoulder. Why, though? That blond, Eastern European dude's angry face flashed in my mind, and for the next couple of minutes I pretended that I wasn't annoyed. Alazne and I could enjoy such a relaxed time in this city, but now I have to wonder where that crazy bastard might be. He promised that he was going to harass me again, too. Quite a few times as I was working out and my muscles were burning up, I imagined myself grabbing that Oleksiy's head with my hands and bursting it like a balloon.
My girl and I sat on the low wall of the Butrón promenade so we could eat lemon ice cream cones while looking at the calm waters of the Bidasoa river. A cool breeze blows against us, bringing sea smells. Apart from the few fishing boats that bob in the water, on the opposite bank of the river we can see France, particularly the city of Hendaya, although from here the view only offers a few white houses with orange roofs on the left, and on the right a line of palm trees behind which stands tall a branchless forest of white masts from all the boats that rest on that port. A few seagulls keep squawking like the annoying maniacs that they are, above the background noise from not only the nearby traffic but also the dozens of people, couples of all ages with or without kids, who are also enjoying this promenade.
"I will think of something bigger to do instead of just taking walks, don't worry," I say unprompted.
"Well, we're already eating ice cream," Alazne says with a smile, then licks some liquified ice cream that had trickled onto her hand. "I'm not worried at all. I'm a very domestic person."
"Still, I want us to do something fun and meaningful. There are plenty of organized activities out there that require money and that people wouldn't do alone. I'd say we are overdue for a visit to the zoo, for example."
"Are there even zoos in this province?"
"There may not be. A serious oversight on the part of whoever is responsible. There's the natural park at Cabárceno, though. It's not that far."
"That's true, but it's not a zoo, is it? The animals won't be as close as you would want them to."
"Well, the point is to be in nature and do stuff outdoors. That's still an option."
Alazne strokes the back of my neck with her free hand, then leans in so she can touch my cheek with hers. I turn my head and kiss her lemon-flavored, cold lips.
"What I meant, my love, is that you don't need to rack your brain," Alazne says sweetlyw. "I told you a few times that just being with you is enough. You must not truly understand how much of a recluse I used to be. I spent years in prison, a sentence for which my broken brain was both judge and jailer."
"Very poetic..." I say, although my heart hurts when I think of how she had felt like.
"During the periods in which I had a job, I went to work and returned home. I only left it otherwise to buy groceries, and I was a disaster at planning how to fill my fridge properly. When I was unemployed, I... spent weeks without leaving my apartment. I think once I didn't shower for two weeks or more, let alone change my underwear."
"I've... always loved your smell, though. I'd love it if it were stronger."
Alazne smiles sadly.
"No... You wouldn't." She sighs. "This is how I've lived for a decade or so. It's only since you met me that I've felt... well-adjusted."
"Well, I'm glad you're feeling well."
"I feel great. But that's the point. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have come out of my hole. So, whatever you want to do is fine by me. If you come up with a fancy plan, then I'd love to experience it with you, but don't get stressed as if you had to impress me constantly."
I'm touched, and I have trouble holding my girlfriend's gaze for a moment. There's also guilt mixed in.
"You sure are a romantic today."
Alazne smirks.
"I don't know of what you speak. Now, was there anything else?"
"Not really. We can go back to doing what we have been doing."
"Which was?"
We kiss until we both feel cold, sticky ice cream trickling onto our fingers.

A bit later we walk deeper into the city, and take a leisure stroll along the popular San Pedro street. Most of the outside tables of the restaurants are occupied by chatty families. Groups of all kinds of people are hanging out on and around the benches. Instead of walking in the shade of the lines of old trees, we take advantage of the sunlight remaining in this increasingly cloudy afternoon. I keep glancing at the small houses facing this pedestrian street, which look as if they were built a hundred years ago and only painted over every couple of decades. I wonder what kind of people live there.
While we pass by the outside tables of some bars, the tumult from all the talking drowns out Alazne as she went on about an episode we had watched last night. She shuts up. After we leave behind the throng of people, however, she changes the topic.
"Asier, has Kateryna spoken to you about this Irene person?"
The warmth leaves my body as if a breach had opened in a spaceship, and Alazne had spoken to me while looking at my face, so she already knows I'm unsettled. I mumble something before my conscious mind can formulate a proper lie.
Alazne is frowning slightly, worried.
"She seems like an important person to Kat, but she's frustratingly tight-lipped about this Irene. I can't get Kat to say whether Irene is alive or not. It seems to me that she hadn't intended to mention her at all."
I can't hold my girlfriend's gaze any longer. If only I had witnessed every interaction that Alazne had with our ghost, I would have been able, maybe, to weave a lie around the facts my girlfriend learned, likely because Kateryna fucked up and said something she shouldn't. But it could be the case that Alazne knows some detail I haven't predicted, or maybe Kat made something up that I would end up contradicting. I'm paralyzed.
"You... know this Irene as well, Asier," Alazne says, disheartened. "And yet you clearly don't want to tell me about her, or other stuff you have withheld. I don't understand why."
I simply can't tell her the truth, and I'm coming up blank on a good lie. I feel like a beast caught in the headlights of the truck that's about to wipe it out.
"I... Alazne, there are some things I can't..." I say in a thin voice.
Alazne squeezes my hand. She tries to get me to look at her, but I don't.
"You can't say? Ever since I moved into your beautiful house you have been high-strung, particularly when I'm interacting with Kateryna. You are a very honest person, Asier, so I do believe that there is some information, maybe a memory of yours, or a bunch of them, that you truly believe you can't share with me. I have no idea why."
She stops talking as if she intended for me to confirm her conclusion. She's right about how on edge I've been recently. Back when I visited Alazne's apartment, I felt in control. Now I keep running around plugging holes. The lies I've created are endless, and I'm sure some contradict each other, but I still can't see any way out of this. Not when I want to keep Alazne in my life.
We remain silent as we distance ourselves from the overlapped conversations, and the clatter of forks and spoons and knives, from the dozens occupying the restaurants of this street. Whatever relief I would have felt from heading towards calmer areas of the city gets suffocated by this panic that's gripping my heart.
I swallow and try to come up with something.
"I... love you, Alazne. This might feel like a barrier in our relationship, but--"
She doesn't let me finish.
"I love you too, Asier," she says in a teary voice. I don't want to check if her eyes are welling up with tears. "But I fear that there's some hole in this new life we are living that I will end up falling into, and that will be that. You will leave me, and I will have to return to a hopeless existence with which I already wanted nothing to do."
My throat closes. I stop, I put my arm around Alazne's waist and I guide her to a nearby small plaza lodged between two three-story buildings. We end up standing next to a series of parked bicycles, in the shade of a large treetop. When I look at my girlfriend's face, I regret it, because her eyes are already red and she's wiping a tear.
I cup the back of her head and kiss her light brown hair, then I speak in a voice as calming as I can.
"I admit it, Alazne, I'm hiding things about my past of which Kateryna is aware, and because she likes me, she simply doesn't want to reveal them. But I'm not... ready to tell those things to someone who is alive, even to the love of my life."
"I feel such dread when I can tell you are hiding something..." she mutters pitifully.
"No! I don't want to break your heart. I just... I'm scared, and there's so much at stake here."
"I don't understand. Truly, I don't. What could possibly be so bad that I wouldn't accept it?" She holds my gaze with her watery eyes, as if to glean the truth from my expression. "Have you murdered someone?"
"What? No! That's the first thing that comes to mind? Nothing like that."
"Are you a... terrorist?"
"Jesus Christ, Alazne."
"Are you actually a cactus? An older woman? A goat? Tell me, please."
She was so close with one of those wild possibilities she was throwing, which she had intended to be so ridiculous that they would be inconceivable, that I want to sit on the floor and hug my knees.
"I'm... probably none of those things."
"Then, what could it possibly be? Asier, even if you were cheating on me with this Irene, or any other woman, I would still want to be with you," she says as if she considers it a weakness, but also undeniably true. "Do you understand that? Even if you betrayed me to my face, and you brought home another girlfriend and had her living there, my life with you would still be miles ahead of the nightmare out of which you dragged me."
My nostrils get dilated, and I find myself clenching my teeth. I take Alazne's hand and move her to a nearby bench. After I sit, I gesture for her to sit on top of me. She climbs onto my lap and wraps her arms around my shoulders. As she presses her head against mine, moistening my skin with her teary eyes, I can feel her relaxing a bit. She's so warm, and I need this contact right now.
"Alazne..." I say in a low voice, but sternly. "You need to respect yourself more. Don't ever accept being cheated on, even if you believe that the alternative is preferable. You can't get by in this world when you have sacrificed your dignity."
"Please," she begs. "Just tell me it isn't what I think it is."
"Were you thinking that I was cheating on you and hiding it, then?"
"Yes."
I hold her head gently between my palms, so I can stare straight into her glossy eyes. If she tries to find any trace of dishonesty there, there won't be.
"I am not, in any way or form, cheating on you."
I stop for a moment, and I imagine the previous, and original, owner of my current body saying those words to Ainhoa and Kateryna, and sounding exactly as I have. But I continue.
"I want to be with you forever. That's the whole truth as far as this particular issue is concerned."
"... I'm sorry for getting angry and accusing you of something so horrible," she says softly.
"You have a right to be upset. This whole situation is pretty fucked up, and it's okay to react to it emotionally sometimes. Also, being accused of cheating is horrible, because cheaters are the worst scum of this planet. To go behind the back of the person who loves you so you can fuck someone else, only to return to your partner and kiss her and tell her you love her as if you weren't plunging a knife into their heart every single day of your life... Those people need to be lined up and shot. They don't need to exist."
I see red. My heart is pounding on my chest. I feel Alazne's loving touch as she puts her hand on my cheek. It's like I had forgotten she was sitting on top of me. My breath begins to slow down.
"I'm sorry," I say, embarrassed. "It seems I hold very strong feelings on the subject."
"It's okay. I'm glad to know that you would never do such a thing."
Alazne hugs me tightly. By how she's letting her body rest against mine, she likely wishes we could remain like that for a long time, but we'll have to walk all the way back home. Maybe I'll call a taxi. I'm not in the mood for a stroll anymore.
My brain keeps replaying that moment when I got off that bus to Donostia and walked up to the totalled Škoda that the original owner of my current body had used to kill himself, inconveniencing random people in the process. Couldn't he have jumped off a bridge, or gotten ahold of a gun and shot himself? I should have known that this Asier bastard wasn't any good. Maybe I should have haunted some hospital until I found my chance to possess any other body.
I get a clear image of an unclear subject: the blurry shadow of Asier's ghost, back when he stood next to me and asked whether I was an angel. His own guardian angel, he might have asked, but I have forgotten. I pretty much am, aren't I? I have been in charge of putting your life together after you fucked everything up.
I hate to hurt Alazne with my lies. I need to move forward towards being as clear with my beloved as any other person can be. Maybe she will never get to learn that I'm a woman, but surely I can push her closer to that secret.
I pull away from our warm embrace. After I kiss Alazne on the lips, which she welcomes, I take out my wallet from my shirt pocket and I open it. When I find myself holding the note that doctor wrote about the aftermath of Asier's accident on my body, I hesitate. I suspect that revealing the fact that I don't hold Asier's memories is going to contradict other stuff I've said, but it needs to be done anyway. I pull out the printout.
"Please, sweetie, read this," I say in the thinnest voice. "Maybe you will understand part of why I kept quiet."
She reads it twice, and then looks at me with puppy dog eyes as she parts her lips.
"M-memory loss caused either by head trauma or not enough oxygen getting to the brain when your heart stopped for too long?"
I take a deep breath. I can tell myself whatever I want, but this is just pasting a lie on top of worse lies. I have always been honest with myself, even in those times I wish I wouldn't.
"I'm not the Asier that existed before that car accident. That's the... most succinct way of putting it, I guess."
Alazne takes a while to mull over this information, looking at me intently as she does so. The longer she stares at me like that, the more I wonder what's going on in her head. Is she disappointed? Scared? After she shakes her head slowly, she puts the paper with the doctor's note back into my hands and cups my face.
"Asier, I love you for whom I know you to be."
Wait, it doesn't make sense, does it? I told Alazne that I had been travelling throughout Europe for years. Those are my own memories as a ghost. If we ever find out more about this body's past, it may be that there is proof that I didn't live abroad for years. Thankfully the doctor's note is unclear, and only uses the term 'memory loss' in a general way, maybe hoping that I would eventually regain many memories. But this sudden worry is just another reminder that I have a bomb attached to my body that might go off at any time, and I fear it will get so bad that every time Alazne opens her mouth I will feel an upsurge of anxiety.
"I retain... some memories. Images, a few sequences. I'm not entirely sure for how long I was travelling abroad, even though I did tell you exact years. I couldn't speak at length about my experiences in other countries because I simply remember very little of them."
Alazne nods in a way that reassures me she understands.
"I'm sure you lived a good life. You're a kind person, and you make me happy."
"T-that's... part of why I kept quiet. I don't think I was a very good person at all, Alazne."
"How would you be sure?" she asks me with curiosity, her face mere centimeters away from mine. With a trembling finger, I wipe an errant strand of hair to behind her ear.
"Get this, I had no idea who Ainhoa, this body's... ex-fiancée was. She appeared in the hospital because apparently I had her as my emergency contact, and she was pissed because of that. As far as I knew, I hadn't seen that woman in my life."
Alazne has one of those light bulb moments, because her face brightens and she raises her eyebrows.
"That's right. I was so puzzled about your ex-fiancée's words back at the aquarium. They hadn't made any sense!"
"W-what words?"
"She said that she knew you weren't yourself. That you weren't Asier. That what happened to you was a miracle, proof that people can start over. So she wasn't mad at you, because it would be like hating you for what someone else did."
"... Are you sure she said that?"
"Yes!"
"I must have blacked out back then or something..."
Damn it, Alazne retains far too many details. I barely recall anything of the conversation we had with Ainhoa in the aquarium. In my memory I only see her elegant, self-assured self standing there and looking into my eyes with a conflicted intimacy that shouldn't have been aimed at me.
Alazne shakes her head and gives me a look of pity. It feels wrong. I don't want my girlfriend, who likely needs to see me as an immovable rock, to consider me broken and weak. Not to mention that her fetishes demand me to be unrelenting and dominant.
I clear my throat.
"So in general I feel that this isn't my body, that I'm not Asier Izcoa. You know what I mean...?"
It isn't a lie, I tell myself, if she lacks the full context of a truth I tell.
"Of course I do," Alazne says, and after a final look of relief, she throws her arms around me.
I want it to hurt, to punish myself. Maybe she shouldn't know what's coming out of my mouth.
"Alazne, Ainhoa told me that her relationship with me ended because I cheated on her," I say gravely.
I feel how Alazne holds her breath, then turns her face slightly towards mine, even though our cheeks were already touching.
"... That's right," I say. "I have no memory of it happening, and just her word to go by, but... Ainhoa likely told the truth. So that's the situation I find myself since the accident. I'm a new person inhabiting a body with which I'm unfamiliar, and I'm bogged down by a past, including the actions of the previous owner of this body, that feels disconnected with who I know myself to be now. Do... you understand?"
I learn an important lesson: the best lies are mostly made out of truths.
The next time I open my eyes, Alazne is staring at me from up close. Her eyes are glistening with emotion, but it seems that they will remain dry. She nods at me.
"Kiss me," she whispers. "Prove to me that it's you in there."
I only need the faintest excuse to taste that tongue of hers. She shuts her eyes. She caresses my greying hair with one hand while her other hand rests on my chest.
"I love you. You'll always be you no matter what form you have," she says.
I don't know how to respond back to her, and I know that her own resolve would crumble away if she knew she just made out with a woman who wears a man's corpse to date her, so I hold my girlfriend close and feel sad in the knowledge that I can't hold on to this bliss forever.

As soon as we got up from that bench, both of us wanted to head home. I call a taxi. It barely takes a couple of minutes to reach us in this popular area. The whole ride through, as Alazne and I sat next to each other in the back, we held each other's hand and stroke it lovingly, as if we were playing a private game that the rest of the world failed to notice.
When we return to the safety of our gated community, Alazne hurries to the front door of our house. Once inside she crosses her arms behind my neck and won't pull away from my tongue. I fondle the length of her naked back under her berry blue chiffon blouse. Although I need to pee, I am tempted to unfasten her bra and power through it, but Alazne ends up breaking the kiss. She stands there looking up at me with glistening eyes and a warm smile.
"I'm going to grab the guitar, head to that room on the second floor and play until we need to prepare dinner," she says. "Thank you for everything today, Asier, and for admitting something so difficult."
"You are an angel. Don't worry about stopping to prepare dinner with me. Play as much as you want, then come down to eat."
Alazne grins, then turns around and skips to the hallway. She disappears out of sight. I lower my head and sigh. When I walk into the hallway, I catch my girlfriend leaving our bedroom as she holds her guitar bag. She rushes up the stairs.
I get into the kitchen and pour myself a full glass of grape juice, which I then down in one gulp. I want someone to punch me hard. I sit on a stool at the free-standing counter, close to a ouija board and another call bell. I stare into the void while something foul churns in my guts.
As if I had forgotten about Alazne wanting to play the guitar, I'm startled by how a string rings out throughout the otherwise silent house as she starts tuning, and after she tries that note a few times, it's followed by others.
I find myself leaning on the counter with my forearms crossed to hide my face.
"I hate myself," I grumble. "I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself."
I'm getting dizzier. As I lean back, I slip off the stool. My butt lands on the cold tile floor with a thud. I want to groan.
"No, I deserve this. I deserve this pain in my ass. I'm nothing but garbage who lies to the sweetest woman in the world."
I rub the bridge of my nose while I close my eyes tight. I consider taking a nap right here. Suddenly, the call bell sounds as softly as if Kat attempted to gain only my attention, even though I doubt that Alazne would have noticed a truck crashing into our house given how passionately she's playing her personal version of Neutral Milk Hotel's 'In The Aeroplane Over The Sea'. She sings as if we were the only inhabitants of this gated community, but to be fair I have only gotten glimpses of the living ghosts who own the other houses.
Kat insists on ringing the bell. I had already forgotten she had. Is something wrong with my brain today? I drag myself to my feet, then approach the ouija board.
The planchette spells out WHATS WRONG IRENE.
My left eye twitches.
"No 'Irene', my dear Kateryna. There are no Irenes in this house. Only Asier and Alazne and Kateryna. No other names matter, nor exist, as far as anyone in this household is concerned."
THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE.
My ears are ringing. Hating myself can easily translate into hating everyone around me.
"Yes, I know that the name Irene is out there. We can't take that back. It's firmly lodged in my beloved's brain, which led to her interrogating you about who that person was, as she explained to me this afternoon. Do you understand my predicament?"
I'm raising my voice at an inanimate object. This is my life now.
The planchette glides to spell out SICK OF LYING.
I rub my hands over my face.
"You think I'm not? I feel like I'm rotting. Back when I was alive for the first time I hated people like me, building their lives on lies, faking all the way! I'm nothing but a phony wearing a disgusting man-body!"
CONFESSION IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL.
I slam my palms against the ouija board, making the planchette jump. My heart is beating quickly.
"No! This can't be good for my fucking soul, because I won't have one if I keep this up! I wanna... I wanna tell her, but that's not an option!" I point towards the ceiling in the direction of the room where Alazne is playing. "For a long time I just wished for Alazne to realize that I exist, and now she lives with me. I managed to get her a bare room in which she can sit on a stool in front of a wide window, so she can play the guitar as freely as she wants. That's the love of my life right there. I should be melting of joy, and yet I feel as I'm sitting on a plastic chair and some bastard is going to run at me from behind and shatter the two back legs with a mighty kick!"
The planchette jumps in an arc back to the center of the board, and then it spells out SHES IN LOVE WITH A GHOST.
"Yes, yes, yes!" My voice is becoming hoarse. "Of course she is! I know that, and that's the whole problem!"
I grab the edge of the counter and I bend over as I try to calm myself. It's not working. Hearing Alazne playing joyfully only makes it worse.
"Maybe I'm a horrible person," I mutter in a hollow voice. "I guess I always was. Back when I was alive, I didn't care much about people nor about their well-being. After twenty years as a ghost I have little reason to lie to myself: I want what I want, and I'll do what I can to get it. That's just how it is."
I feel my lips quivering.
"Alazne couldn't see me. Of all the people I care about anymore, only you would have been able to both hear me and see me. I wanted to be seen. It's not wrong to take other people's bodies if they aren't using them any longer. That's why I have these powers to possess people, right? They must exist for a reason. In Asier's body, I can touch Alazne as much as I want."
The bell rings three times in a row. I know Kat will insist if I ignore her, so I raise my head towards the ouija board.
YOU ARE LOSING IT, the planchette spells out.
"Maybe I am! This isn't easy for me! You can't possibly understand my feelings! This is the only body Alazne can have sex with! I'm not going to abandon this life plan!"
YOU ARE NOT HAPPY.
"I don't need to be happy! I just need to be near Alazne!"
The planchette remains still. I breathe hard through my mouth as I glare at the stupid board. Seconds later I wipe the spit from my mouth.
"Are you going to rat me out, Kateryna?" I say, fear peeking through my voice.
The planchette moves swiftly to the word NO.
"Then I guess we're done here. You keep this between us. I don't want my plans ruined."
I only took a step towards the door when the bell rings again. I take a deep breath.
DONT WORRY ABOUT ME BUT YOU HAVE TO TELL SOME DAY.
I hang my head low. I close my eyes, and I get to listen closely to Alazne's guitar playing as she stretches out the last part of Joanna Newsom's 'Kingfisher'. Her voice is mournful.
"Is it not better that we can be together, even if I have to lie about who I am?" I say as if tearing out a piece of my chest. "Is it better for her to know the truth, when otherwise I can give her what she needs? I will love her, you know, to the end. If I hadn't stalked her and intruded upon her life, she would be rotting alone, and one day she would have found the strength to hang herself."
I open my eyes, although I don't want to. I feel a tear rolling down my cheek.
"I will save her," I say. "And if I have to lie to do so, then that's what I'll do."
YOU ARE NOT A MAN IRENE.
"I am what I need to be. It doesn't matter to me."
SOME DAY YOU WILL BE ALONE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE.
I clench my teeth and turn to the board, ready to tear it to pieces.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I growl.
SHE DESERVES TO KNOW.
"I know what's best for her."
WHAT WILL ALAZNE THINK ABOUT YOU IF SHE FINDS OUT BY HERSELF.
I stare without blinking at the quivering planchette. Talking my problems out with Kateryna always makes the world much clearer.
"Then she would be disgusted by me and hate me like I deserve. So she can never know."

My Own Desert Places, Pt. 19 (GPT-3 fueled short)

Link for this part on my personal page, where it looks better

---

After I invited my girlfriend to move into my fancy house in the outskirts of Hondarribia, and next to a graveyard, she didn't want to delay it. She never enjoyed living in her dreary working-class apartment in Irún. Even though Alazne was already sleeping in my house every night, in the mornings we travelled back to her apartment and organized the move. Fortunately only her fridge belonged to her, as the old one that came with the house had broken down, so the moving company wouldn't have to bother hauling bothersome dressers, cupboards, shelving units and the like. However, even if she had bought that furniture, the mahogany is worn and smells like old people, while the stuff in my expensive house only brings joy to all who enter it.
We gathered all the cardboard boxes we could find, and I even brought some from my attic, but I had to buy bubble wrap, duct tape and other material which I had previously associated with making collages. We went room by room taking stuff out of her dressers and cupboards and counters, and spent time deciding what could be thrown out. We didn't need to move her guitar into my place, because she brought it the second day she came to my house, and it now rests against the full-body mirror of my bedroom.
As Alazne and I took turns walking down to the street to throw out bulky garbage bags, the neighborhood busybodies, groups of old women who had few qualms about gossiping, whether cruelly or not, about people within earshot, must have put two and two together in their rapidly mouldering brains and realized that Alazne must be preparing to abandon them. I'm surprised that some of these old biddies haven't confronted me in some manner due to my presence in the neighborhood. I guess I look tough enough. Besides, that old man in his sweaty tracksuit, who was always attached to his tiny dog, must be doing the rounds, and every time I turn around I expect I'll have to face that wrinkly mug. I hate old people. I hate them because they are close to death and I don't want to die because the afterlife is shit.
I was especially careful when throwing away the sheet-noose with which Alazne had intended to hang herself. When she saw me putting it in a garbage bag and I told her that I would throw it in the container, she narrowed her eyes and nodded silently, as if making peace with it.
In three days Alazne and I ended up with a cluster of boxes near the doorway of her living room. We had written on all of the boxes, in every side, to what room the contents originally belonged, and we also kept a written list of all the boxes we were going to move, in case the movers were idiots and would lose some along the short ride to the neighboring city.
We stood in my girlfriend's kitchen, now mostly empty except for the furniture and her fridge, and we wiped the sweat from our faces with a towel.
"I'm going to miss this shitty apartment," I say to Alazne. "I know that for you this place has become associated with many terrible memories, but I only have good ones. I can never go back and spend my first full night with you anywhere else. And all those hours we held each other in the dark... I feel as if I should steal your bed out of principle."
Alazne chuckles despite herself.
"You're silly, you know that?" she says with a smile. "But you are right, besides the shows I've watched, the manga I've read and the... private time I have enjoyed in here, my brain associates this apartment with a dark well from which I couldn't escape. So the sooner I put it behind me, the better."
We take a moment of silence to look around the room.
"So... this is it, then?" I ask her as she stares at the fridge.
Alazne nods.
"This is it. I'll tell the landlord he can keep the fridge."

I don't know where Alazne went that afternoon, but she met the landlord and gave him the keys of her now old apartment. Meanwhile, as I sat at the table on the balcony of my home in Hondarribia, I browsed the internet for some moving company. From time to time, as I drank grape juice I gazed at how the shadows were elongating on the green, wavy ground of the neighboring countryside.
I used the power of a dead man's money to hire some movers, so we wouldn't break our backs loading all those boxes from her apartment, not to mention that we wouldn't be able to carry her stuff to my house otherwise. I have money, so I hire other people to do stuff that would be too annoying for me. Besides paying to shove enough food into your mouth every day, paying to push your inconveniences on other people is why money exists, and I'll beat up anyone who argues otherwise. I have been ramping up my workout routine now that Alazne can peek as I'm lifting weights, and the testosterone flowing through my veins is pleading for me to batter someone up. I fear that one of these days it won't even care whose face I destroy. Male bodies are like ticking bombs, it seems.
It's nine and a half in the morning and the two big guys of the moving company are walking up to the third floor to haul boxes down. I don't want to stand around while Alazne is watching, and I need to show off my muscles, so I contribute.
The tall, dark-skinned Colombian guy, a detail we know because he readily shared it during the first two minutes he chatted with us, is bending over to lift what ended up being the heaviest box, one filled with stuff from Alazne's bedroom. I approach him and crouch on the other side of the box.
"You take that side and me this one," I say.
"Sure, buddy."
I stop for a moment as he grabs his side of the box. Buddy, he called me? Was he being condescending? He's looking for a fight, isn't he? I shake my head, then sigh and grab the top of the box. We lift it off the floor. Even with two people handling it, it's heavier than I would have thought. Alazne and I should have distributed the contents into at least three or four boxes, but we had no clue what we were doing. In any case, my biceps flex with satisfaction, and they will likely look good for Alazne. I hope she gets to see my efforts.
The mover and I walk downstairs, both struggling under the weight. As we were crossing the pavement towards the open back of the truck, I spot that Alazne is standing close by with her back to us, because one of the neighborhood busybodies has approached my beloved. That might be one of the evil witches who talked trash about Alazne, suggesting that having to listen to her passionate guitar playing was a curse. I'm not sure, though. To me these old broads look interchangeable. She must be half senile as well, because her hair is styled with one of those wiry perms with which old women around these parts ruin their crumbling looks.
I stop, causing the Colombian mover to stagger and question why he's left holding a very heavy box. But I'm paying attention to the old woman who's accosting Alazne, in case I need to step in and headbutt an old skull.
"So you are moving out with your boyfriend?" the old woman asks with a smile.
Alazne, who likely never held this woman's gaze before, nods nervously.
"Y-yeah..."
"You don't need to sound so proud of it. You make it seem like you are doing something bad, with all the shame and guilt that normal people have."
"I'm not ashamed! I love him!" my beloved raises her voice indignantly.
A smirk forms on the old woman's lips as she cocks her head to one side. For a brief second our eyes meet, but she quickly returns her gaze to my beloved. That's right, I think. You have no clue who you are dealing with.
"Love, huh?" the old woman says. "You will keep playing the guitar there, right?"
"Y-yes, of course..."
"Hey, dude..." the mover says to me, but I ignore him.
The old woman puts her hand on Alazne's shoulder.
"Keep it up, dear. Good luck to you."
As my girlfriend stands there still, the old woman hobbles away. I wonder if she's genuinely happy because Alazne won't rot alone in her misery, or because the old woman won't have to listen anymore how Alazne plays the guitar, or moans, or pleads for daddy to put it in.
I shake my head and turn to the mover.
"Carry on."

Once all of our boxes sit on the back of the truck, the two movers close the rear doors. The Colombian guy approaches Alazne and I as he wipes the dust off his hands. The morning light shines on a bead of sweat that rolls down his forehead.
"Alright, we're done here. This address you gave me, though... It looks as if there's only a graveyard there?"
"Yeah, it's a... private place. A community adjoined to the graveyard. Don't worry, drive to the exact address. It will be there."
"Got it."
We exchange a firm handshake as I give him a nod.
"Why are we shaking now, though? Aren't we getting in your truck?"
The mover raises his eyebrows.
"Uhh... No, there's only space for my cousin and I. The clients are supposed to drive to their new home in their personal vehicle."
"We don't have a car, though. Those things are death machines."
The mover seems to give it some thought.
"Yeah, they pretty much are. But anyway, maybe I can ask my cousin to go get his car and drive you both to your new home."
He points at the skinny mover waiting by the truck's passenger door. He briefly looks in our direction before lowering his gaze back to his cell phone.
"Nah, it's okay," I say. "He looks shady. Whatever, I'll call a taxi. I have lots of money."
"Alright then... We'll drive to your creepy graveyard house. Call me if you will take too long to get there."
"Sure. Don't disappear with our boxes, please."
The mover chuckles as we shake hands once again.
After the moving truck that carries Alazne's stuff drives away, my beloved hugs me tightly and rests her head on my chest. I run my fingers along her scalp. A few seconds later I pull out my phone to call the taxi company. Once the dispatcher assures me that one of their taxis will reach us sooner or later, I hang up and I look down the street anxiously. From here to the end of the street there are four other nearly identical five-story, working-class apartment buildings, painted slightly different so the inhabitants don't suffocate under the weight of their insignificance. To our left is the taller, larger apartment building whose inhabitants have put their money together to fence their place up and set up some security cameras, which isn't very likely to deter the criminals, as people need to do some really nasty shit, or bother a politician, to get sent to jail.
The absence of that man is making me nervous.
"Alazne, do you recall having seen around, and been bothered by, an old man who always wears a blue tracksuit and who walks a brown, tiny Maltese dog?"
"No. I honestly don't pay much attention to the people around here. Why?"
I don't answer. So this is it, huh? I would have sworn that no matter at what hour we had organized moving our boxes to the movers' truck, so Alazne could flee from this working-class hole forever, the old man would be standing nearby while his pocket dog took a shit. He would be wearing the same never washed tracksuit that probably stinks like some old folks home in which the employees are particularly neglectful. And yet, in our final hour there's no sign of the man anywhere. What was your purpose then, you shoddy old turd, if you don't force me into a confrontation when the timing is right? I swear some people merely exist to make others feel shittier for no fucking reason, as if the universe had to fill a quota.
And what kind of life is that, huh? Relentlessly trying to keep the peace in his crumbling territory, a self-appointed watchman against every weirdo who wanders in and could remotely inconvenience the locals. Disliked and dismissed by everyone, even the neighbors, only for one day to pass away without anybody giving it a second thought.
My throat tightens, and I find myself needing to blink a few times. I pull away from Alazne's embrace to stand straight, bringing my feet closer together.
"Alazne, salute," I tell her.
"What?" she asks me, puzzled.
"Shinzou wo sasageyo!"
My beloved doesn't need any other explanation. We both cross our left arm behind our lower back, then our right forearm across our chest, so we can clench our right fist over our heart.

I wake up with the morning light that shines through the window near my side of the bed. My body feels relaxed as if it has appreciated the nine or ten hours of sleep, even though some of my muscles, particularly those in my arms, are stiff from lifting heavy boxes. Next to me sleeps the love of my life, who has spent her first night as my live-in girlfriend. Alazne is lying face up, with one arm over her head and touching the headboard slat, which has raised that breast. Its rosy nipple peeks out from under the sheet. My girl is breathing through her mouth, and I watch for a while how her chest raises and falls. She smells like stale sweat, sex, and her own particular smell that I can't describe. She's really here, in my house, in my bed, and she will remain with me forever.
I stand up carefully from the bed, then walk up to the curtains to draw them so my angel can sleep for a bit longer, but either she was already awake or me shifting my weight around on the mattress must have done it, because I hear her yawning. When I turn back, Alazne stretches adorably as she shuts her eyelids tight. She opens them again, and I give her a smile.
"Good morning, beautiful."
"Hey," she replies, a little groggily.
"Sleep well?"
"Never better."
I walk up to the bed and climb on, then straddle her waist. I tickle her sides while she grins and squirms, until she begs me to stop. I lean forward with my arms pressed against hers, so my chest touches hers. As I look into those hazel eyes, I feel complete.
"I love you, you know," Alazne says.
"I bet."
I lean in closer to kiss her, but she turns away. I stare at her with a raised eyebrow. She bites her lip as her cheeks redden.
"I have morning breath."
I sigh dramatically, then stand up from the bed even though my boxers already feel too tight.
"I'll allow you your dignity, I suppose."
I walk to the bathroom, which is thankfully far enough from the master bedroom, and while pissing I check this body out in the mirror. The beard is starting to grow out a bit now that I have stopped shaving it every other day. Quite a few greys in there. My hair has a month or so to grow before it looks as if I just don't care. I brush my teeth, then I spit the froth down the drain.
Now comes the dangerous part: to take a shit silently enough that I won't feel like my girlfriend is sitting on the bed while hearing my farts and wondering why she's dating me. When I finish up, I hold my breath in case I hear Alazne crying. Then I wipe my ass as carefully as someone wearing a man's body must now that his girlfriend is always around. You never know when Alazne is going to stick her nose close to my ass, not to mention that this body I stole has plenty of hair down there, which seems designed to catch nasty residues. I spit on every piece of toilet paper to clean myself thoroughly, and after the latest piece of paper doesn't show me a stain, I still crouch in front of the bidet to shoot a stream of water at my anal area. Then I perform the finger test. If I rub the skin near my closed hole, which I assure you remains shut during this procedure, and my finger doesn't smell like shit, that's probably good enough. I wipe my ass a final time with some more paper, then I stand up and return to my bedroom.
Alazne is kneeling on the bed as she holds her hands in front of her plain salmon-colored panties, which are the only clothes she's wearing. Her messy bed hair makes her sexier, and in her tear drop breasts, the nipples are hard and pointing at me.
I stand there like an idiot for a moment, delighted by the delicious view, but Alazne pats the mattress next to her.
"Hey, lie down on your back," she says in a low, alluring voice. "I need to tell you something."
I nod as I walk over to the bed, lowering myself onto it, then I lie down on my back with my legs spread apart.
"What's up?" I ask as I stroke her thigh with my closest hand.
Alazne leans towards my ear, but she stops midway and looks at me with a playful expression.
"Close your eyes."
I obey her. When I let the back of my head sink into the pillow, I feel Alazne's weight shifting in the mattress. She doesn't tell me anything, though: the next thing I know, my boxers are bunched around my calves, and my soft cock is inside Alazne's wet, warm mouth.
While her tongue curls around, my cock grows harder filling the available space, and my girlfriend lets out some appreciative moans. Alazne keeps sucking me off eagerly as she holds my thighs. My ass clenches while I experience one of the best feelings in the world.
I let out a long sigh, then I reach with my hand to run my fingers along her scalp, slowly and lovingly. Back when I inhabited a woman's body, I wouldn't have thought that pure bliss was my live-in girlfriend gorging herself on my dick first thing in the morning, but one lives to learn.

It soon became clear that we may both want to check stuff online, or just watch videos, as we lounged in different rooms of the house, so having to rely on the desktop computer was going to become annoying. I had forgotten where I left the laptop I found in the attic, and I suddenly walk into the living room only to find Alazne sitting next to the ouija board as Kateryna's laptop is powering up.
I am shocked, although I don't let it show. She's going to see an account made for Kateryna.
"What are you doing?" I ask, hopefully sounding calm.
"Research," Alazne says as she waits for the login screen to load. "There's so much information out there if you look hard enough. A few groups about ghosts seem legit. I mean, it's alright if I contribute our experience. Or is that an issue...?" she asks like she just considered that it should remain a secret.
"As long as you don't post our address, I guess..."
I walk behind Alazne towards the opposite side of the ouija board. A sudden chill all over my body and a cobweb sensation on my face makes me realize I went through Kateryna. I wipe my face as if the contact had left some residue, although I know it hasn't.
"Excuse me, Kateryna, for causing you an unpleasant sensation." I want to bite my tongue, but I take a deep breath. "I mean, because you told me it was unpleasant."
I need to get rid of the laptop before I ruin everything.
"Huh. Why is there an account for Kateryna?" Alazne asks, puzzled. "I-is this her laptop? Did they forget it here after she died?"
Shit. Alazne has turned towards me. I shrug, but as I open my mouth, we both notice the planchette hovering slightly above the center of the ouija board. Kat wants us to know she intends to speak.
ASIER BOUGHT IT WANTED TO FIGURE OUT IF COULD COMMUNICATE THROUGH COMPUTER, the planchette spells out.
I'm having a hard time hiding my relief. Kateryna is a true friend, the best I've ever had. She always has my back, she's usually up for shooting the shit, and she finds this world as chaotic and meaningless as I do.
"Communicate how?" Alazne asks while she alternates between looking up at me and at the board. "Are you able to push the keys?"
I shake my head.
"My dumb idea. I had witnessed how great of a poltergeistmith our friend is, so I figured that she could learn to type in a keyboard as if she were alive. Stupid on my part, really. I don't even remember the password to her account now."
"Alright, that's a shame," Alazne says as she begins the process of creating her own user. "But we can speak to each other well enough through the ouija boards, right?"
I smile at her.
"Sure. That's the main point, after all."
"I'm glad we can stay in contact as much as we want."
As my girlfriend is focused on typing in her chosen password for her new account, I turn my back on her and I facepalm silently. I dig with my fingers in my flesh for good measure. I hate it. Alazne does nothing but love me, and yet I keep lying and lying and lying. I'm no better than Asier. I'm no better than my biological mother. I'm no better than my father. I'm no better than any of the ghosts I've judged and condemned over the years. I'm terrible.
"I-I'll buy a new laptop," I say in a raspy voice, then I clear my throat. "One of us may want to bring it out to a coffee shop. I was planning on starting to write about my experiences, after all."
Alazne realizes that I'm towering right behind her seated self, so she leans back and reaches with her hands to stroke my face.
"I suppose that laptops aren't that expensive these days. And also... I'm so proud of you. I think you'd make a great writer."
As I exhale deeply and close my eyes, I give into the pressure and embrace her warmly. I'll just have to keep lying. It's the devil's game, but this is what happiness must feel like.

My Own Desert Places, Pt. 18 (GPT-3 fueled short)

Link for this part on my personal blog, where it looks better

---

I hold open the door of my stolen home, which is technically a haunted house, and Alazne steps into the foyer. She absentmindedly wipes the soles of her shoes on the doormat while eyeing her surroundings, including everything she can see from there of the living room, as if Kateryna's ghost intended to ambush my girlfriend.
I put a hand on her shoulder and rub it. I feel her relaxing, but she can't erase the worry in her eyes. She must be thinking that this plan to meet a ghost was a foolish idea.
"I assure you, Kateryna is as kind as they come," I say with a reassuring tone, then turn my head towards the door to the hallway. "Hey, Kat, you likely already know Alazne arrived, but feel free to come!"
It feels chilly, but today's weather is masking Kat's presence. I hope that she won't say high by displaying her poltergeist powers. One thing is accepting that you are standing in a haunted house, and another is for the primitive brain to integrate that you are witnessing a display that should be impossible.
"Alright, let me show you around what I hope will become your house," I tell Alazne, and I kiss the top of her light brown hair.
My girlfriend nods. Her right hand seeks my left one, and she holds on to it tightly. Her face is paler than usual, which highlights her freckles, but she doesn't seem too freaked out otherwise.
"I-is the presence of someone new not going to scare off Kateryna?" Alazne asks with a slight frown.
"Not if that person is alive," I reply with confidence. "If anything, you'll make her more comfortable."
"Well... okay..."
I move my arm around Alazne's waist and pull her closer to me. I show off my spacious living room, which is around three times as large as Alazne's corresponding room back in her Belaskoenea apartment. The living room is divided between an area with a large dining table, where I set up the ouija board and the call bell for my daily séances with Kateryna, and another area with two expensive, three seater sofas with firmly stuffed cushions in front of a coffee table. Two bookshelves offer novels that came in a collection and that Asier likely didn't read, and he filled most of the shelves with statuettes mainly of naked women, maybe honoring the Greek tradition, but probably because he loved naked women, which was part of why he cheated constantly.
There's a flat screen mounted on the wall. It offers an exceptionally sharp image, although I only switch it on to entertain Kateryna, because televisions are tools of the government to brainwash the population. Two large windows give a nice view of the fenced backyard. I get reminded again that I may have to introduce myself to my neighbor and ask him if he can trim his plane tree, because it's blocking some of the sunlight in the yard. We should take advantage of all the hours of full sunlight around these parts.
Alazne walks around the dining room table and towards one of the sofas as if she were admiring a display in a museum. She approaches one of the bookshelves and looks at the statuettes.
"Who's this?" she asks, picking up the depiction of a muscled, armless man with a happy facial expression even though he's lifting a giant rock.
What the fuck would I know? Shit, I'm the one who is supposed to have bought those statuettes!
"That's the Thinker. He represents introspection."
"Ah yes, he's very cute. I like his dimples."
Alazne looks at a few of the naked women, but thankfully she doesn't force me to justify myself. She places the male statuette back on the shelf and returns to me while smiling warmly, which calms me down. I gesture towards the nearest sofa.
"Imagine all the times we are going to spend lying there under a blanket while watching shows on the enormous flat screen."
Alazne briefly eyes the ouija board prominently displayed on the dining room table, but I have explained the situation.
"I can imagine us spending many happy afternoons with each other here," she says as she squeezes my hand. "But don't you think we should continue the tour? I want to see the bedroom."
I swallow, and as if Alazne had reached for my girl cock, it grows a few centimeters. I turn towards the hall. From there we walk into the hallway that connects with the garage, the kitchen, a guest bedroom, a bathroom with a large bathtub, an office, and finally the master bedroom. After I point out the presence of the stairs to the second floor, Alazne says 'wow', but then pirouettes into the master bedroom. The bed sheets are freshly clean and they smell nice. I can't take credit for that, because they were already washed when I found them in the dresser.
"Nice sheets," Alazne says quietly in a slightly higher pitch, then she sits on the bed. "What kind are they?"
"I don't know, they just had a tag that said Sp... Sp... something. Just brand new."
"Sweet. And soft too."
She looks behind her at the desk that holds my brand new gaming monitor, and then her gaze lingers on the exercise bench, the barbell set up with enough weights to pump up my pectoral muscles, and the variety of dumbbells lying nearby.
"Curious that you chose to exercise in your bedroom when you have empty rooms," Alazne says in a lulling voice. "I mean, this room is large, but still..."
"That's a good point. I guess I was used to it. I might end up moving it somewhere else."
When Alazne looks forward again, she stares into her own hazel eyes reflected in the full-length mirror that covers the wall next to that side of the bed. Asier installed it surely to watch himself fucking Ainhoa and Kateryna, particularly our Ukrainian goddess I'm guessing, as well as the other women he sneaked in here to cheat on his wonderful fiancées. I have mostly used the mirror to habituate myself to the faces this man-body makes when I'm orgasming, and to an extent I wish I hadn't, because men look like idiots while they are shooting their spunk.
When I look back down to Alazne's glistening eyes and her grateful expression, a sharp pain squeezes my heart. Every step of the way I have to remain on guard, because I never know when I'll be prompted to spout wild lies. I can't risk losing her, not the love of my life. I have been alone and miserable for so long, and I never want to be alone ever again.
Alazne sighs and takes off her sport shoes. She's wearing her knee-high pink socks with cartoon cat faces, which in my mind they have turned into code for 'tonight I want to submit fully to you'. My breath thickens, and my cock starts bending against the crotch of my jeans. I should have worn looser clothing today.
I clear my throat.
"You haven't seen the second floor, although it's mainly more of the same. Two of the rooms are bare, ready for whatever comes. The balcony is nice, I have been sitting on the chairs there to read or just to relax. Beautiful view of the countryside."
"I didn't know you like to read," Alazne says while she stares up at me hungrily, and shifts her knees apart.
"I used to read quite a bit when I wasn't..."
When I wasn't wearing a man's body, for starters. And when I wasn't chasing girls. I used to either spend my time alone with my hobbies, or focusing on my main hobby, which was to fuck as many girls as I found attractive. I particularly enjoyed those who presented a challenge, for example those who didn't see themselves scissoring with another girl. Many of those conquests ended up loving the taste of pussy juices.
I step closer to Alazne. The bulge in my pants can't be concealed anymore, but my girlfriend must have grown used to it.
I reach down to cup her cheeks, and Alazne wraps her arms around my thighs. She's breathing harder, her lips are getting wetter.
"I know my house is not a villa on a hill, but..." I say calmly.
"I don't want to talk about the house now," Alazne says in a raspy voice. "Give it to me."
She grabs my shirt and pulls me into her. She falls back onto the sheets, and I end up supporting myself on my hands, planted in the mattress to the sides of Alazne's shoulders. Fuck, I love how aggressive she has gotten. Although sometimes, like today, I'd prefer her to plead. I lower my face to devour her mouth. Alazne lets out a contented moan, and wiggles her ass while pushing herself up with her heels so she'll lie further back on the bed.
She quickly unbuckles my belt and unzips my jeans. I pull them down enough with my hand so my cock has some breathing room, while Alazne takes off her trousers. I fall upon her body and grind my hips against her. I can feel her wetness through my boxers and her panties.
"Oh, God! Fuck!" she lets out in between kisses as I move down to her neck, sucking on the skin there.
I sit back up to slide off my jeans and then lower my boxers. I pull down Alazne's red with black lace panties. As I fall back down onto her, she wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my shoulders. She has turned her head towards the full size mirror, and she's smiling like drugged at her reflection while drool trickles onto the sheet. Her eyes are glazed over, her cheeks an adorable fiery red. I embrace her thighs with my forearms so that my hands cradle her ass. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and she bites her lip as I penetrate into her. The thought of putting on a condom briefly flashes through my mind as the butter-smooth walls of her vagina squeeze my girl cock, but by this point of our relationship we have both become irresponsible enough in our horniness, and my pull out game has improved so much, that I figure that I'll manage to cum on her pubes so it ends up looking like a cute snow-covered forest. And if I fuck it up and fill her womb with my seed, we'll have a baby and that's that. College isn't particularly expensive in these parts.
Alazne holds on to my arms so tightly that her bitten fingernails bite through my shirt, and her knuckles go white. She must have loved this house I stole. I continue to watch us fuck in the full body mirror until my vision blurs and Alazne's carefree moans fill the room. Her eyes roll back, and after a guttural sigh, she may have passed out, because she goes limp. I pull my cock out and come all over her bellybutton.
Suddenly exhausted, I roll onto the mattress to lie next to my woman. I embrace her body from the side, and some of the cum that remained inside my dick gets smeared on her thigh.
Shortly after, Alazne's eyes flutter open and she looks back at me in the mirror. She licks her lips.
"I really liked that."
"Me too," I answer, still catching my breath. "You didn't come, though."
"I didn't, huh? Everything went white, and for a moment it felt as if I just came out of an operation, completely free of anxiety. So great..."
I kiss her cheek, and she reaches with her opposite arm to rub my shoulder affectionately.
"We christened this bed quick," I say.
Alazne stares at the ceiling while a smile remains pasted on her lips. She lets out a long sigh.
"It's all so amazing, Asier. The thought of living here... It's like most of the problems in my life would vanish."
"Yes, I guess that beyond the shit that goes on in our brains, most everything else is about money."
"Yeah."
When I regain my strength, I fetch a towel from the closet and hand it to Alazne. She wipes off her belly. A bit of cum ends up on the tip of her thumb, but she licks it.
"I guess it's pretty normal to feel this way about a house," she says, then turns her head towards me. "When I was about five, my family bought a new house, and I'd run back and forth from the living room to the kitchen, feeling like I'd finally found all the happiness in the world."
As I stand next to the bed, I'm shocked that Alazne has shared a detail, let alone a fond one, from back when her parents were alive. I keep quiet and merely hold her gaze with what I hope is an understanding expression.
That memory involving her parents must have escaped her mouth because fucking has relaxed her that much, but her face darkens as she's likely forced to face again that she lost her parents way before she could have dealt with that pain. I want to embrace her and say some corny shit like 'you didn't lose your parents, you are keeping them alive right here' as I tap her head, but I wouldn't want to see how my girlfriend reacted to that.
Alazne rubs her eyes as her head sinks in the pillow, and then she manages to smile.
"What I wanted to say is that this house of yours is much bigger still. It's so strange for me to enter a brand new place and feel this comfortable and safe."
"I'm glad that it's working out for you." I bite my lip. "What maybe I should have said before I shoved my cock inside you is that the resident ghost, our Kateryna, likely witnessed our frantic lovemaking. Just so... you know."
A sudden unease distorts her expression, but after she blinks, she smirks defiantly.
"So I'm not going crazy, because I'm pretty sure I saw her. She was right there in the living room, sitting on the rocking chair."
"Nope, Kateryna doesn't have the power to manifest herself, and neither do I have a rocking chair."
"Is this going to be one of those cases in which a house is super haunted, but when a guest comes over, the ghosts hide like anxious cats?"
"Well, Kateryna, she's a proud woman. She doesn't want to intrude on our lives, particularly when we are so eager to tear our clothes off. But did you expect to enter the house only for a bunch of knives to launch themselves at you?"
Alazne shrugs.
"It's not that I don't believe in ghosts, it's just that I have never seen one. But I had thought--"
My girlfriend shuts up at the same time a cold bubble of air makes the hair on my arms stand up. Alazne's face has gone white, and as she rests the weight of her upper body on her elbows, she's staring wide-eyed at something in the corner of the room where I set up my exercise bench. I spot it immediately: a dumbbell is hovering while quivering, as if the invisible hand that's holding it is getting tired of the weight.
"Hey, Kat," I say casually. "Maybe some exercise will do you good."
The dumbbell drops noisily on the carpet. I'm tempted to reprimand Kateryna, because that may have dented the floor. I sigh.
"Alright, it's about time I introduce the two of you properly."

Alazne and I, and judging by the increased chill around the table, Kateryna as well, gathered in front of the kitchen table. To set the right mood for a séance, I closed the curtains to darken the room, and I lit two candles that bathed the ouija board in a yellowish, trembling light. Completely pointless, but it looks cool. I pulled a chair so I could sit next to my beloved, while she occupies the commanding seat in front of the board. The planchette remains still in the center, but it won't be for long.
Back when Kateryna dropped the dumbbell, for a second I expected Alazne to spring to her feet and sprint out of my house while screaming and tearing out her hair, but she was excited. Not sexually, but still. I could tell that the presence of a real ghost fascinated her, and from then on Alazne looked wired and eager. I was nervous, though, for a different reason: Kateryna knew who I truly was, and I had no clue what was going to come out through the planchette's movements.
I put my hand on Alazne's shoulder, and she stiffens.
"C'mon, you can talk to Kateryna. She will likely not use her poltergeist powers to bite you."
"A-alright... H-hi, lady ghost. I'm Alazne. I'm sure you already know that I'm Asier's girlfriend, and from now on I think I will spend plenty of time in this house. I-I hope you won't mind. Nice to meet you!"
The planchette twitches. I feel a chill going down my spine. The air is tense as fuck. As if its movements were automated, the planchette is quick to spell out HA HA HA.
Alazne's eyes widen with shock.
"W-what?" she asks in a high-pitched voice.
I shift my weight in the chair. Now I suddenly fear that my roommate is going to embarrass me.
"What the hell do you mean with 'ha ha ha', Kat?" I ask.
The planchette moves on the board. It spells out I HAD DECEIVED HER ALL ALONG IM ACTUALLY SATAN TAKING OVER THESE OUIJA COMMUNICATIONS.
Alazne gasps, but more towards how much the planchette is moving by itself than to the potentially horrifying meaning of the message. I can tell she doesn't buy it. But now I'm the one who is scared, because Kateryna referred to me as a she! Damn it, Kateryna! Don't screw up immediately!
"T-that was a joke, I see...!" Alazne says. "I can tell you are intelligent, and that you are actually here..."
NO IM ACTUALLY SATAN, the planchette spells out.
I frown. I want to get up and throw the planchette on the floor.
"Yes, very funny, Kateryna."
I WANT TO TAKE OVER THIS WORLD.
"Yeah, you and everyone else."
THEY DONT MEAN IT.
I sigh in an exaggerated way.
"See, Alazne, Kat tends to joke around when she's nervous. And she's meeting you, someone she has heard me talk about for hours. So naturally she wants to make a good impression. Isn't that right, Kat...?"
The planchette glides over to the printed YES near one corner of the board. It seems she won't continue with her path of terror.
"See?"
NOW FOR REAL I AM KATERYNA NICE TO MEET YOU.
"So... do you want to try asking questions?" I ask Alazne, who remains jittery.
"Y-yeah, of course."
"Alright, but let me get you something to drink while you talk to Kateryna," I say as I stand up. "I think I have Coca-Cola and orange Kas if you want some carbonated garbage, but I've been partial to grape juice recently. There's also bottled water."
"Uh, I'll have what you're having."
I wasn't having anything, but I shrug and go to the fridge to take the carton of grape juice. I grab two glasses.
"So... d-did you witness us... having sex?" Alazne asks shily.
When I walk back to the table and set our glasses on it, the planchette was returning to the center.
"What did she say?" I ask.
Alazne takes a big gulp of her juice, and then licks her delicious, now extra sweet, lips as she calms down.
"The gho--... Kateryna said that she did and that she enjoyed it."
AS I SAID I MISS SEX, the planchette spells out.
"Well, I'm glad we could entertain you," I say, and take a drink. "We will put on a show for you most days from now on, I'm sure."
"I feel like a bit of an ass for the lot of questions I want to ask," Alazne says, "but I really want to know what's up with you, Kateryna."
"It's alright. I'm sure she appreciates you caring enough to ask her directly."
WATCHING SEX IS ALSO BETTER THAN WATCHING ASIER MASTURBATE, the planchette spells out.
I nearly choke on my grape juice, and I hunch as I pound softly on my chest. The pain in my battered ribs from the accident is mostly a memory now, particularly due to the daily dose of painkillers. Still, I don't want to worsen whatever remains to heal in there. I should probably take better care of this body, but I kind of hate it, too.
Alazne chuckles.
"So Asier masturbates quite a bit, huh?" she asks to the invisible presence.
HE USED TO ALL THE TIME BEFORE HE LOUDLY DECLARED HE WOULD ONLY SPURT HIS SEMEN FOR YOU.
I'm beet red.
"Somehow this all sounds worse when you say it, Kat," I say in a low voice.
Alazne laughs and reaches out for my hand to hold it. She shakes it playfully.
"Aww, I do appreciate it!" she says, beaming.
I clear my throat, then point down at Alazne's shirt.
"By the way, Kat, what do you think about her choice of attire?"
Alazne looks down at her tee shirt as if she had forgotten she was wearing it.
The planchette spells out WISH I COULD BECOME MONKE.
Both Alazne and I laugh for a few seconds.
"I bet!" I say.
THIS BOAT IS MOVING TOO SLOW, the planchette spells out.
"Alright, I'm going to ask you some serious questions now," Alazne says, already used to talking to a ghost. "How did you end up in this house?"
I freeze. I feel close to a catastrophe. What would happen if Alazne found out that Kateryna was another one of this body's ex-fiancées, and that most likely died in this house? I can't imagine how my girlfriend would react.
LIVED HERE BEFORE ASIER CAME, the planchette spells out.
My vision gets blurry for a moment, as tears of relief and gratitude come to my eyes. I blink them away, hopefully before Alazne saw them.
"Kateryna...!" I blurt out.
Alazne twists her mouth as if brooding, while she fidgets with her glass of grape juice.
"Ah... K-Kateryna, did you die in this house?"
I feel a cold sweat.
I DID YES, the planchette spells out.
My heart beats rapidly.
"W-was it... an accident?"
KILLED.
"K-killed...?" Alazne repeats in a hollow voice. "As in someone killed you, or as in you killed yourself?"
The planchette remains still for a few seconds, and then slides quickly with the proficiency of a veteran typist.
BOTH I GUESS.
"Jesus Christ," I mutter as I wipe some sweat off my forehead.
IT WAS VERY UNSATISFYING, the planchette adds.
Alazne looks at me, worried. I have no words of comfort to offer her; I'm too busy dealing with my own nervousness. A range of emotions is clawing at me, but most of all I feel a lot of guilt. I'm so glad that Kateryna lied about her relationship with Asier. If a woman died in my house while I lived in here, it likely means that I was somehow responsible. I'm surprised that the police haven't visited me since I possessed this body.
Alazne seems troubled. Her eyes dart around as if she's trying to figure out something important.
"Kateryna, are you alright in the afterlife? I mean, do you feel well?"
MISS WARMTH OF THE SUN.
"I-is there no sun in the afterlife?"
SUN WAS FRIEND, the planchette answers. NURTURED ME ALLOWED ME TO GROW.
Oh no, Kateryna is losing it. I get the mental image of a particularly drunk, and hot, woman who is making a scene in a party, except that I can't physically drag Kateryna out until she sobers up. And taking away her planchette, her only means of communicating properly, feels too cruel.
"Kateryna implies that everything is faded, washed out, in the afterlife," I say gravely. "Close to odorless, tasteless... She has spoken about this before."
Alazne stares with a determined look at the planchette.
"Does anything give you joy?"
The planchette spells out NOTHING. After a brief pause, the planchette moves again: DISTRACTIONS.
"What sort of distractions?"
The planchette is motionless. I can tell that both Alazne and I are holding our breath while the flames of the candles waver, and the atmosphere feels darker and darker. This is like a legitimate séance. I'm getting why those ghost hunting shows on YouTube are so popular.
"L-let me change the angle..." Alazne says as she shifts her weight. "Asier told me that it seems to be true that spirits remain in the afterlife, at least in the lower level you are in, because they regret something about their previous lives. In that case maybe we could help you, to free you from that nightmare."
CANT MOVE ON ITS NOT POSSIBLE FOR ME, the planchette spells out without hesitation.
"That would be far too cruel, to throw you into that grey world without any way to escape it."
"Alazne, maybe the afterlife just is. I mean that you can't expect fairness of a volcano if you jump into it."
Alazne squints one eye at me as if she didn't quite catch the analogy.
TO SOLVE REGRET WOULD NEED TO BE ALIVE, the planchette spells out.
"C-can a living person do whatever you need performed for you?" Alazne asks, eager to please.
NO CHILD THE TIME FOR THAT HAS PASSED.
When the planchette returns to the center, it trembles for a moment until it remains inert, as if the fingers that had been touching it were lifted.
I lean forward towards the ouija board, and rest an elbow on the table.
"Kateryna, you never clarified those words for me. The first day we spoke to each other you told me that, 'no child'. Do you mean that you wanted to have a baby before you died, and now you obviously can't get pregnant?"
The planchette slips suddenly towards the edge of the table as if Kateryna had applied her power incorrectly, but after the planchette returns to the center, it spells out WANT TO LIVE AGAIN IRENE I AM PAINED DONT WANT TO SPEAK MORE.
A wave of nausea comes over me, and I have to restrain myself from slapping the ouija board away. I stand up forcefully, making a scratching noise against the floor with my chair.
"Ghosts have feelings too, and I think we have prodded Kateryna too much for this session."
Alazne looks up at me confused.
"Irene, she said. It seemed incongruous in the middle of those sentences. Was it someone she knew from when she was alive...?"
"Let's... Let's just take a break," I say with a hint of desperation.
Alazne nods. She gets up. She's troubled by the experience, but as if she listened to someone's terrible experience instead of because she has undeniable proof that ghosts exist. My girlfriend keeps quiet for a few seconds, but then she holds her hands in front of her waist and bows slightly towards an invisible presence.
"T-thank you so much for speaking with me, Kateryna. I hope we get to talk again soon. If you think of some way I could make your existence easier, don't hesitate to let me know."

When Alazne and I decided to figure out how we were going to fill our bellies tonight, she was very impressed not only with the size of the kitchen and the amount of groceries I had stocked, but also with the island this kitchen came furnished with. By island I mean a free-standing counter space in the center of the room, which in my eyes is as good a symbol as any to distinguish the peasants from the rich people like me. I have an island in my kitchen, and everyone else can eat their muck out of a mug.
I grabbed two packages of instant ramen and showed them to Alazne, who was sitting on a stool while leaning on the free-standing counter.
"I figure that someone so obsessed with anime, manga and the likes will appreciate some ramen," I say.
"I do, if only because it reminds me of all those joyful times. So..." Alazne fidgets with the apples in a bowl. "Do you just have to put it in the microwave?"
I open one of the packets of ramen and extract the noodle cube, which looks like it was compacted in some industrial machine.
"We need to boil water," I say as I reach for a hanging pot. "We also need to gather all the associated food and condiments. So a couple of eggs, bacon, salt, black pepper... Butter as well. Do you want to help?"
Alazne gets up from her stool.
"Sure. I must say that this looks more like a chef's kitchen."
"The owner is nowhere close to a chef, though."
She walks over to the fridge while shooting me an apologetic look. She opens the fridge and gets the packet of bacon.
"Y-you will be so disappointed by how little I know how to do."
I start heating the water on the stove.
"You are the one who is perennially disappointed in yourself, Alazne. I have nothing but love for you. And the more you learn how to do, the more confident you will become."
Alazne sighs as she places the bacon on the counter.
"I-I can try cooking this. Hopefully the house also came with fire extinguishers. Where are the pans, though...?"
I nod towards a hanging cupboard over the main counter. I was walking to the spice rack to get the black pepper when I notice that Alazne is on her tiptoes to reach the pile of pans inside the cupboard.
"Now I really feel small...!" she complains.
"Yeah, I should reorganize the kitchen having you in mind. This body of mine is taller than average, after all."
I slide out the bottle of black pepper from its rack, and I turn to help Alazne when I see that the pan on top of the pile is lifting, and then floats carefully out of the cupboard until it lands with the gentleness of a feather in the hands of my baffled Alazne.
"T-thank you, Kateryna," Alazne says, then smiles.

Both of us have mostly digested the surprisingly delicious bacon and egg ramen, which by the way I had only prepared once before and with the purpose of impressing Alazne when she came over. It's nine and a half at night, dark outside as well as drizzling. The crickets are chirping in the nearby countryside. I convinced Alazne to join me in the main bathroom and take a bath with me.
I'm all about the mood today, so I have brought over a few candles from the living room and have set them on a shelving unit at the end of the bathtub. The tub is already full with around 40 degrees Celsius hot water, waiting for us. As the flames flicker, I switch off the electric lights and I walk up to my Alazne, who is standing there blushing and offering me an eager smile. I grab the hem of her shirt, and she raises her arms to help me take it off. She's wearing an ultra thin, red and black lace bra that she bought recently, if I can say that she bought it when I paid for it. I bite my lower lip as I admire the curves of her C cups. The candlelight makes her pale, freckled skin seem smoother and her light brown hair shinier. I lose myself staring at Alazne's body for a moment, but then she grabs my shirt and pulls me into a kiss. As we taste a hint of ramen in each other's saliva, I undress hastily, my eyes never leaving hers. When we pull away, I take off my boxers and leave them on the porcelain tiles, and Alazne does the same with her lace panties. I'm already at half mast.
"I'm going to love this so much," I say hungrily.
Alazne giggles excitedly as she submerges into the warm water. She lets out a long, moan-like sigh as she rests the back of her head.
I crouch to get the bottle of silicon-based lube out of the cupboard. I place it on the edge of the bathtub, where I will be able to reach it as I soak in the warm bath. Alazne has closed her eyes, but even if she hadn't, I doubt she would have noticed what I brought. Much better, because I'll get to surprise her.
The bathtub is spacious, so we have enough room to move about. I ask Alazne to scoot so I can get into the water behind her, and when my legs rub against hers in the bath, my girlfriend wiggles her ass back until it presses against my crotch, then she leans against my chest. She sighs contently as I wrap my arms around her torso, resting her breasts on my right forearm. I feel so snuggly that I want to cry. We stay in silence for a couple of minutes, just taking in the warmth of each other's body heat.
"From now on, every night should end with us soaking in a hot bath," I say.
"Maybe it would be better if we didn't do it so often, because if this becomes a routine, it will lose its charm."
"You're right. We'll do this every other night. The water bill might make me cry, though... But then again, I'm rich."
Alazne giggles, and reaches with her soaked hand to stroke my cheek. We kiss on the lips.
"I used to have baths when I was little," Alazne says in a low, sad voice. "Mom would bathe me before bedtime. She would wash my hair and scrub my skin red, and then she would hold me so tightly that I couldn't move. I think I felt safe."
I hold her tighter in response.
"She... wasn't right in the head," Alazne continues, almost whispering. "Even back then I knew there wasn't much to be done, because that's how she was. But when I turned five and we moved, everything got worse. She would grab my arms and legs and toss me around, or sometimes she would put her hands over my mouth so I couldn't breathe."
I hadn't expected our bath to turn this way, and I'm disturbed by her memories. I rub Alazne's arms to assure her that I'm here for her.
"I hated... her so much..." Alazne adds in a hollow voice. "I had nothing but resentment. I was forced to endure this meaningless life because my dumb parents wanted to have a kid, but they didn't have the mental tools to raise one properly."
"It's alright, they're not here anymore. They can't hurt you."
I hope those empty words I stole from several sources help her a little bit, because I can't think of anything better to say.
"No, they're not here anymore... but you are," Alazne says.
She turns her head towards me and kisses me on the jaw. I must look distraught, because Alazne is quick to apologize.
"I-I didn't want to sour this beautiful moment...! It just came out. I'm sorry."
I fold my arms across her breasts. I feel her nipples hardening against my forearms.
"Don't apologize for opening up, sweetie," I say in what I hope is a soothing voice. "You told me about your mother because you feel safe, and you indeed are. Everything you want to tell me, I want to hear."
Alazne nods. She relaxes again, putting her weight on me.
"Sometimes I just felt... unreal. Like this life couldn't possibly be my own. I couldn't affect anything, no matter how hard I tried."
I want to chuckle bitterly. I have twenty years of experience with that. At least back when I inhabited my original body, no matter how terrible I thought my life had become at the end, I didn't feel like a living ghost. Alazne has been forcefully practicing for an eternity in the afterlife.
"Back when I was twelve, I went outside in the middle of a storm at night, hoping that maybe Mother Nature herself would take me away," Alazne says. "That was my first attempt. A half-assed one, but still."
"That... was before your parents' accident, right?" I ask softly.
Alazne stays silent for a few seconds. Her chest raises and falls against my arms.
"Yes. The night they died was the first time I really tried to kill myself. I had been thinking about it for years, you know."
"What did you do?"
"I took all the pills I could find in the medicine cabinet and my mother's handbag. I remember standing at the foot of my bed, staring at them while I counted."
"How many were there?"
"Forty."
As Alazne says this, she tenses her body. Maybe she's remembering the moment she took them.
"I then walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and started vomiting."
"You threw up, huh?"
"Yes. So it didn't work. Thing is, until that night I had wished for my parents to disappear. I thought I would finally get to be happy if I lived alone. But for that I would have needed a new brain. I guess that serves me right."
"How did you adjust to your parents' death?"
"The next night I went to a nearby bridge and jumped off it. I broke both my legs, one in three places and the other in two. After that, they sent me to a mental institution. They wanted to give me medication. I didn't let them."
"I had... no clue about any of this," I say in a shaky voice.
Alazne chuckles softly.
"Yeah, that was a lie, the jumping off a bridge thing and getting sent to a mental institution. Sorry... I thought it was getting too serious."
"Don't worry about it," I say, even though I'm still feeling a little strange.
"I didn't try to kill myself again until shortly before the fated day when we met each other," Alazne says in a brighter voice. "Not because I didn't want to, it's just that I felt I could simply go with the flow. Life was shit for me, and there was nothing I could do. My lot in life and all that. And I had so many shows to follow, mangas to read... So I found some joy along the way, whatever could get me to forget myself. But I truly wished to die. You only got to meet me because I'm a coward. If I had any guts, years ago I would have been consequent with my desires."
Alazne takes my hand and entwines her fingers with mine.
"You know, you are the only person with whom I have ever felt comfortable," she says warmly. "The only one who's given me hope. Since you first kissed me in front of that car depot, I've only wished to be yours for the rest of my life."
My heartbeat quickens.
"Do you wish to spend the rest of your life with me?" she asks me.
"Yeah. This life of mine is all yours. And if we get to meet in the afterlife, whatever passes for my existence there will be yours too."
"Good," Alazne says, then sniffles. "Let's live together, please."
"You liked the house so much, huh?" I ask, still troubled.
"The house and how your big body feels against my bare skin, particularly your penis, even though it hasn't been hard since I ruined the mood by bringing up sad memories."
"I'm sure I will get hard again in no time. But I'm so glad you warmed up quickly to living with me. I want to wake up every morning looking at your angelic face."
"Warm up? I don't even want to return home!"
"Alright, then I'll start figuring out how to bring your stuff over here. Won't you miss living in Irún, though?"
Alazne snorts.
"Hell no! Fuck that dreary shithole."
We laugh together. After we calm down, I move away the wet locks of hair that were blocking access to Alazne's appetizing neck, and I kiss it from her clavicle to her ear. She reaches over her shoulder to run her fingers through my hair, and gazes into my eyes. She had opened her mouth to speak, but I was aching to bring the topic of Kateryna up.
"So it doesn't worry you that a ghost is genuinely living in my house, that she will be our roommate?"
"Well, I believe she won't hurt us, so no. And she actually succeeded at killing herself."
"Yeah," I mutter while my throat tightens. I don't like that Alazne sounded proud of that fact.
"Kateryna will continue haunting the house forever or whatever it is ghosts do. I feel... a kinship with her."
"I'm happy to hear you say that. I'm sure you both will become friends. You know, she's likely listening to every word we are saying right now. She may be standing a couple of meters away from us right now and we wouldn't notice, distracted as we are."
"That's fine, she already watched us fuck, after all. It's kind of exciting. I've always been into weird stuff. And Kateryna needs distractions like those, she said so. It's like she lives in a manifestation of depression, that whole afterlife she's stuck in. I want to help her. At least make sure she has as easy a time as possible."
My mind goes blank for a bit. I recall all those times as a ghost I tried to befriend other lost souls, only for them to tell me to fuck off or even try to call the ghost police. My time on that hopeless plane would have changed so much if Alazne would have understood I lived in, or I guess haunted, her apartment in Belaskoenea. I have no clue how I would have made her notice me when I only have the power to possess people, but my daydream doesn't care. I doubt I would have dared possessing Asier's dying body if Alazne, or any ghost for that matter, had been nice to me after Iñaki disappeared.
I switch back to reality because Alazne is slowly grinding her ass against my growing cock.
"There it is..." she says seductively.
I reply by kissing and biting her neck as I fondle her right breast and play with her hard nipple. With my left hand I reach for the lube.
"You just reminded me... that I had planned to take care of you during our bath."
"Is that so? Then who am I to say no?"
Her mouth curls up in a smile as she looks longingly into my eyes, then she closes hers. She bends my rock-hard girl cock with her ass, which makes me shiver. I squirt a glob of lube on my left hand. I pass it to my right fingers, and I submerge them in the warm water so I can rub Alazne's labia. She yelps in delight while squirming suddenly, which causes hot water to splash on the bathtub's side and fall to the floor in a short-lived waterfall. Alazne then thrusts her hips gently in rhythm with my fingers. I focus on caressing her clit while I suck on her earlobe.
"Ahh... Fuck me..." Alazne says, her voice trembling.
She rests the back of her head against my shoulder and exhales through her mouth as I concentrate on slowly bringing her to a climax. I hook my fingers inside her, which allows me to feel her pussy pulsating around them, and slowly slide my fingers out, dragging along her soft, tender skin. I return to her clit. I would prefer that my tongue was tracing little circles around it, but I'm sure I'll be eating her out in bed if not tonight, before tomorrow is done.
As Alazne orgasms, she breathes deeply while holding my arm, her nails digging into my skin. The hot water mixed with our sweat has created a thin mist that floats around us as we embrace each other.
"I am going... to have... such a good time here..." Alazne says in a faltering voice, out of breath.
"Oh, Alazne. Now that I'll have you right where I want you, I will hunt you down relentlessly," I say while caressing her belly.
Alazne closes her eyes and leans her whole body against me.
"Yes, please. Tear me apart."

My Own Desert Places, Pt. 17 (GPT-3 fueled short)

Link for this short on my personal blog, where it looks better

---

Alazne's warmth and mine have homogenized in the pitch black of her bedroom. After eleven at night or so, we've taken the habit of closing the window blinds to submerge ourselves in such a darkness that our lovemaking will be reduced to the sensations of taste, smell, touch, pressure, vibration, temperature and pain. We both last orgasmed around fifteen minutes ago, and since then we have held each other's naked body and breathed on each other's skin. I'm slowly kneading Alazne's ass cheeks with both hands as I caress her neck with my lips. She keeps stirring and letting out almost indiscernible, high-pitched vocalizations that make her sound feral. Meanwhile she smears slowly the still wet juices caught in her pubes against my lower abdomen. Her pussy emanates such warmth that it hits my genitals as if she were exhaling on them.
Beyond the act of sex itself, I have never known such bliss as holding Alazne like this while knowing that the love of my life feels calm, satisfied and safe. In a way, I adore such moments even more than fucking. Ever since I first came across Alazne, I had wanted nothing more than to purge the sadness that was rotting her insides, and now I get to hope that one day she'll be free of her pain.
My face is buried deep in Alazne's neck, and her breasts are squished against my chest. Every breath of hers tickles my skin. Her hands have been gripping the back of my shoulders as if she doesn't want to let go, and her bitten nails are pressing into my trapezius muscles.
I slide my hands up to massage her back, and when I lower them again to knead her ass cheeks, I feel Alazne tensing up as if she's getting wetter. But she leans closer to my ear and opens her mouth noisily.
"What are you thinking about, my love?" she whispers.
"You, of course." My voice sounds monotonous because I'm trying to keep it from breaking into a yawn. "Just how much I love you and how lucky I am."
"You're lucky?" she chuckles, and clutches me tighter. "What about me, huh? I'm the one dating someone who puts so much effort into taking care of me, and who insists on paying for everything."
"It's all so we can lie in bed like this, feeling your naked body against mine, and getting to fondle that sweet ass of yours."
I press my groin into Alazne's thigh, and her warm liquids moisten my crotch. Alazne shivers, but then lets out a soft chuckle.
"We are both such horny bastards," she says with a playful sigh. "I already was before you met me. I mostly masturbated so much because while I was aroused I didn't feel despair. And it's cheaper than drugs, I guess."
"But you don't masturbate anymore, because you got me."
Alazne giggles, then licks my earlobe. The sound of her deep breath right into my ear canal makes my dick throb.
"No, I still masturbate when you aren't here. And I come harder because I keep replaying in my mind what we do to each other."
"That's not fair. I have stopped masturbating so I wouldn't waste my sexual energies! Alright, take this then."
I find Alazne's labia with my hand and rub my fingers up and down it to tease her. She shudders, then bites my shoulder to stop herself from moaning too loud.
"You're so fucking cruel," she whispers, but lifts her hips to get more of my fingers inside her. "Are you trying to make me cum?"
"Of course I am."
I insert another finger, and start finger-banging her. Her fluids are trickling down my wrist.
"You're so wet already," I whisper in her ear. "Are you going to cum for me, my sweet girl?"
"Mmh, you know I will," she says in a low grunt.
I thrust my fingers quicker and she buries her teeth into my shoulder to muffle her ecstasy. The sharp pain of those teeth about to break through my skin only make me harder.
"Don't worry," I say while stroking her hair. "You can bite me all you want."
With a series of moans, it only takes Alazne around a minute and a half to climax, spraying my hand and part of my belly with her pussy juices. After Alazne's breath stabilizes and her body goes limp against me, I pull my hand out and wipe it on the bed sheet.
"You're so bad," Alazne says in a raspy voice.
She has lifted her head slightly, and even in the dark I can tell she's trying to stare at me. I know that her pupils must be dilated, and that her light brown hair is sweaty and disheveled. She never looks so beautiful as in these moments, except when she plays the guitar.
"You're going to kiss me, aren't you?" I ask.
"Of course I am."
I feel her lips on mine, like the touch of a feather. Gentle and fragile. My heart aches.
"You gave me a new feeling," Alazne whispers. "When we lie in bed like this, I don't doubt, I don't suffer. My anxiety is gone. Every other passing moment of my life is spent in pondering and fearing everything as if I had to escape from a hole quickly filling with water. But now I'm free, soaring the sky beyond the walls."
I swallow. I don't want to let her know how close I came to crying.
"You're so poetic. It would have been more effective if you hadn't sneaked an 'Attack on Titan' reference in there."
Alazne giggles, but then she rests her head on my chest and we do nothing but breathe for some seconds.
"What if this is a dream?" she asks, barely audible. "What if I wake up from it and I'm still locked in my pitch-black room, but alone?"
"What if everything is a dream, or some VR shit that feeds us fake sensations?"
"I don't know if that would be good or bad. Would we keep holding each other like this if that were the case?"
"Probably. We wouldn't be the ones to realize that we are in a fake world."
"Whether it's real or not I guess it doesn't make a difference."
I kiss the top of her head, and she snuggles even closer against me. Our bodies have merged. We are in perfect accord, just like two wheels connected by a single axle. I'm scared. Scared that something is going to come in and yank her away from me.
"Hmm... I don't want to be anywhere else than in this bed," Alazne mumbles placidly.
"That does segue awkwardly into the plan I was going to offer you for tomorrow. See, I want you to come over to my house so you can enjoy a bigger living environment, and also because I can't wait to fuck you in my own bed."
Alazne lets out a gasp of surprise and delight, and she squeezes my shoulders tighter.
"I said 'this bed', but I'm sure your own bed will work just fine. So you just want me to come over so you can get inside me, huh...?"
"That's one reason, but also because there's more space and privacy."
"Fine, I'll come over, spend the night and all that," Alazne says as her heart beats louder.
"I know you're going to love it, but... Well, there are some things about my house you should know."
As I'm trying to find the words, Alazne speaks up.
"I-I have been replaying our encounter with your ex-fiancée, and as much as I can remember of her words. I know, I know, but I can't help it. Among the confusing things she suggested, it seems your house has a... bug infestation?"
I chuckle nervously.
"No bugs, that's just Ainhoa refusing to face reality. Ah... I doubt you would have ever anticipated the words about to come out of my mouth, but... my house is haunted. I'm a hundred percent honest. I seriously have a fucking ghost roommate."
Alazne lifts her head and exhales in surprise. I wait a few seconds for her to say anything, but she doesn't.
"She won't bother you," I say with little confidence. "She doesn't hate you and her name is Kateryna, not that it matters right now."
"Okay, I can tell you are serious," Alazne says with a nervous laugh. "What else? I-I mean... You seemed curiously interested and knowledgeable about ghost stuff before, but I wouldn't have thought... Tell me, does this ghost appear to you? Is she a shadow person?"
"Uh... No. She's not a shadow person. She doesn't have the power to manifest herself on this plane."
Neither did I. Back when I was a ghost, I could only possess people, a niche ability that made me feel I was the bottom rung of the ghost pecking order. However, these days I feel like the queen.
"I-is she hostile?"
"No, not at all." I think back at the first time I met Kateryna, and how she purposefully targeted my testicles. "W-well, she can be, I guess. She produces poltergeists, and very effortlessly. If she's pissed, I'm sure she can stick a knife in anyone's head. Not that she will do that to you."
"Are there others like her?"
"None that I know of. I haven't seen any proof of other ghosts in my house."
Kateryna is one of a kind, and that's why I cherish her.
I feel Alazne nodding slowly against my chest as if digesting the information.
"Listen, her poltergeist powers allow her to communicate easily through the ouija boards," I say to reassure her. "And she's very eager to talk, because the afterlife is boring. I guess. So tomorrow you'll get to speak to each other for sure."
"S-so you can talk to her?"
I snort.
"It's hard to get her to stop using the ouija board. We have conversations daily."
"I-is it just her, or do other ghosts visit you too?"
I'm quite sure she just asked me that, but I'm surprised Alazne isn't freaking out more, or getting mad because she thinks I'm lying.
"Just her."
Kateryna had told me about a few times that she had tried to take a walk through the graveyard which for some reason is adjoined to my gated community, but the presence of other ghosts terrified Kat. When a couple of them approached her merely to talk, she fled in a panic. She hasn't left my home since. A phasmophobic ghost is a sorry sight.
I break the embrace and place my hands on Alazne's shoulders.
"I'm am not joking, sweetie," I say in a low voice. "I wouldn't pull such prank on you."
"I-it's okay if you like to joke," she whispers. "Just... don't lie to me."
My mood is ruined. But it's a perfectly reasonable thing for the love of my life to expect.
"I won't," I say in a thin voice. "Still, my point is that you must find this whole thing about my ghost roommate hard to believe."
"W-well, I know the common objections. Think about how many people have died throughout human history. Wouldn't the ghost world be congested beyond belief?"
"Apparently not. Most don't even linger there. It seems that the majority of people die with such few regrets, or a lack of wish to keep living, that they simply dissipate into the aether."
"Alright, but even with most people's souls disappearing when they die, wouldn't the mere passage of time have accumulated a tremendous amount of ghosts in the afterlife?"
I find myself smiling. I love being able to talk to Alazne about a place in which I've wasted two decades.
"That plane is indeed quite crowded with ghosts, although fewer than you are thinking. Some ghosts refer to it as the Calm Depths of the Afterlife for a reason. There's no water in it, but it's not nearly as overpopulated as one might assume. Ghosts can't kill each other, only drive you nuts, so if a ghost finds some abandoned ruin with which the living wouldn't bother, that ghost could live in relative peace for eternity. There are few of what one could call 'wrath spirits', whose entire purpose is to rage against whatever they consider 'the machine', including other ghosts. One could think that nature figured that those who go through the trouble of haunting are doing so out of a sense of purpose or duty, and they should be provided for accordingly."
As Alazne stutters for a moment trying to digest everything I just poured into her ears, I want to hit myself. Shut up, moron! How on earth are you supposed to have learned this information?
"I-I mean, as far as Kateryna, the ghost in my house, told me," I say. "I forgot to mention that the number of ghosts in the afterlife also dwindles because some manage to face their regrets and overcome them somehow. There was this ghost..."
Shit, I was going to speak in depth about Iñaki. I hadn't thought about that old miserable bastard in what feels like a long time. I don't think I could pass my interactions with the guy as a tale that Kateryna told me, because then Alazne might wonder why Kat doesn't leave my house.
"This is all very intriguing..." Alazne says. "Still, wouldn't there be ghosts from hundreds, thousands of years ago?"
I want to laugh bitterly and say some variation of 'trust me, you don't want to know'.
"There must be, but it's not like you could understand what they are saying. Also, the longer one spends in the afterlife, the higher the risk of going insane. With losing their ghost minds entirely comes, for some, the salvation of dissolving into nothing, because their regrets cease to matter. Or that's the common conception. It's not like being a ghost comes with an instruction manual, you know? Ghosts learn by hearsay, and there are some clueless shadows out there."
"Hmmm... So after one dies he has to look forward to going crazier and crazier from loneliness and impotence?" Alazne asks with a bitter twinge of irony.
"Erm, well... Some do, for sure. But knowing that means you have your work cut out for you: you must live a life of no regrets."
"... Was that an 'Attack on Titan' reference?" Alazne asks, amused.
I sigh.
"Everything is, Alazne. What I mean is that you make the best of it. That's the whole point of living a life with no regrets: so that you won't look back and kick yourself over your own failures. And maybe you get to save a bunch of people and cut down some titans in the process, I guess."
"I love that you are speaking my language."
"I hope that at least gives you even more reasons to live. Now you are motivated by something other than fear, even if it's to put titans down."
Alazne rests on me again, and closes her right hand around my left biceps. She leans in to my armpit, tickling it with her nose, and takes a good whiff, which causes me to chuckle in confusion.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Just smelling by boyfriend," she answers, contented. "You know, you could write some books. You experienced many strange things during those years you travelled throughout Europe, and now you are friends with a ghost... I'm sure people would be interested. I know I would love to read all of it."
If other ghosts who can possess recently deceased corpses have returned to this plane, they have kept quiet about it. Writing about my experiences, huh? I stroke my chin with my free hand.
"You know, Alazne, I used to write quite a bit when I was..." A woman, that's what I was going to say. And I would gladly have said it, if it weren't because I caught myself. Being this relaxed is dangerous. "... When I was younger. Maybe I should try something again. I do have a laptop."
"Yeah! I would love to read your work!" she says, the image of enthusiasm.
My heart skips a beat as she cuddles closer to me. I release a long breath.
"Thanks for the encouragement, but for now try to get some sleep, my precious girl. You have a strange day ahead of you."

This morning, before I left Alazne's apartment to return home and spend a few hours figuring out how every room of my stolen house would look from my beloved's perspective, I gave her two fifty euro notes and the phone number for the taxi company I had been abusing recently. It's now six in the afternoon in a cloudy day that has darkened as if the sun was setting, and I can't stand still. I pace up and down the hallway and the living room, dealing with an anxiety that creeps from the tips of my fingers. I get the feeling that I'm forgetting something vital about the hill of lies on top of which I live.
The bell I set up on the living room's table rings, sounding sharp as if it had tapped on my eardrums. Kateryna wants to tell me something.
The planchette spells out YOU ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY.
It's unlike Kat to make such an obvious complaint. I sit down heavily on the nearest chair and rest my forearms on the table.
"I'm sorry. I had grown used to how I needed to act, or maybe behave is the right word, when I was visiting Alazne's apartment. Now that she's going to explore my safehouse, I'm simply on edge. My brain is running simulations of every question I could be asked, along with the outlandish answers I should give."
JUST TELL HER THE TRUTH.
I groan, sounding more pained than I would have expected.
"What is exactly the truth that you suggest I should reveal to my beloved, Kateryna?" I ask in a hollow voice.
I WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY AND FREE.
"Then help me, Kateryna. Help me figure out how to tell Alazne the truth without destroying everything."
The planchette slides in one direction, but it stops. It trembles as if Kateryna was doubting herself. Then it spells out SAY I AM IRENE I AM WOMAN AND ALSO A GHOST BUT I LOVE YOU.
Although I can't help but laugh, by the end of that outburst my laughs turn bitter.
"My friend, it wouldn't work on me, I don't think. I would run for the hills. I don't want Alazne to reject me like that, I wouldn't be able to stand it."
I sigh and rub my eyes.
"Could you throw something at my head, Kateryna? I need to snap out of this. I feel like I'm suffocating. I can't stand the way I'm lying to her."
A chill and a cold breeze envelop my surroundings. It's thicker than usual, and maybe I should feel afraid, but I don't. I can only hope that this is Kateryna's way of helping me out.
My head snaps to the side as an invisible hand slaps me. The pain runs across the side of my face, and my eyes get teary. I think I taste blood; I may have scraped the inside of my lower lip with my teeth.
"That, hmmm, that really hurt," I say as I breathe heavily through my nose.
The cold spot floats towards the ouija board, and the planchette quickly spells out TOO HARD I AM SORRY I CANT CONTROL IT THAT WELL.
As I rub the warmer side of my face, I tilt my head so my neck cracks. Surprisingly, I feel more at ease.
"It worked! I should have known that physical pain would have diverted my troubled mind's attention from its worries. Thank you, Kat. Unfortunately, I still don't see how--"
My phone rings, startling me, and I spring to my feet. It's Alazne.
"Hey, the taxi should be a street away from the address you gave me, but the driver says there's only a graveyard there. That's not true, is it...?" She sounded worried, as if I had finally decided to pull a nasty prank. And sending a previously suicidal person to the graveyard while pretending it's the house I invited her to live in... That's peak nasty.
I press the phone against my chest for a moment to silence the mic.
"Oh shit, she's already here!" I tell to Kateryna, and then I hold the phone to my ear as I run towards the front door. "Alazne, it's a gated community right next to the graveyard. Has a wall covered in ivy. Tell him to drive along the wall past the graveyard. You can't miss it."
I stand right outside of my stolen abode's front door. The houses are organized in four columns of three, and this place is in the second column and closest to the wall. I keep staring at the open gate, which some neighbor must have the duty to close past eleven at night, but for which Asier had the key in his keychain.
I was holding my breath when a taxi appears. Even though I can barely make out Alazne behind the reflection in the windows, I can tell she has spotted me and is leaning towards the driver to talk.
The taxi stops close to the open gate, and the rear passenger door swings out. My girlfriend exits the car while putting the change in her back pocket. I find myself staring in awe. Merely looking at Alazne fills me with such joy.
As I walk up to her, I'm confused by her baffled expression. She alternates between looking at me and at Asier's house behind me. The taxi pulls away to leave the gated community. The silhouette of the driver's head stares back at us.
"Y-you weren't kidding about this community being next to the graveyard," Alazne says in a low voice as she reaches me. "I would have thought this was an extension of the graveyard, maybe where they arranged the crypts."
"Yeah, I have wondered what kind of crazy people built these houses so close. But their insane idea worked for our benefit. You can't beat this silence."
The community is indeed an oasis of quiet, particularly because none of our ghostly neighbors seem to have the ability to project into this plane their wails and how they plead for their eternal suffering to end.
I smile and take Alazne's hand. I open my mouth to speak, but my girlfriend, who can't tear her gaze away from the house, keeps talking as in a trance while she points towards the building.
"Is this seriously your house...? You own this place...?"
"Yeah, I've lived here for years," I reply. I think that's true.
"It's huge...!"
"I love hearing that coming out of your mouth. You seem confused, though. You thought I couldn't afford it?"
Alazne turns her head towards me. She seems to have snapped out of her trance, and now she's staring as if she isn't sure where she stands, or as if she needs to reevaluate some aspect of our relationship.
"Asier, I don't even know what your job is. I had already thought that for someone who insists on paying for everything, you seem as unemployed as me, but..." She gestures towards the house. "This is ridiculous!"
"Oh, you're right. It's ridiculous how little you know about me."
I had meant it as a joke, and yet it isn't, and Alazne frowns as if I upset her. While I think about how to justify myself, I observe my house like I hadn't seen it before.
It's two stories high if you don't count the partial floor they fit for the attic under the gable roof, and they built the house in the common farmhouse style popular around these parts, particularly in the outskirts of the cities and for the houses of those who can afford some luxury. It's supposed to bring to mind the struggles of long generations of Basque farmers or some shit. The bricks have a tawny, toasted tone, while the architraves around the windows and doors are tan, and possibly made out of some type of stone, not that I would know or care about the particulars. What's an architrave, you ask? You tell me. A balcony surrounds most of the second floor, and it has an ornate cast iron balustrade. On the first floor, a closed garage door leads to a garage, against all odds, but it doesn't contain a car, because Asier wrecked his Škoda when he invaded the opposite lane to kill himself. And I don't want to buy a new car, no matter how much money I have. Those things are death machines. With the public transport being so good in these parts, personal vehicles are isekai plot devices, as far as I'm concerned.
"There's also a small yard in the back, but I don't feel too comfortable there, as the neighbors can look down at you from their balconies," I say casually to Alazne, who is grimacing with worry. I put a hand on her shoulder. "Listen, sweetie, either I bought this place or I stole it. Whichever seems more likely."
"You bought it, I'd say. Don't misunderstand me, I'm amazed, but... I-I feel distanced from all of this, somehow..."
I quickly pull her into an embrace, and when Alazne reacts, she crosses her arms behind my back.
"Alazne," I start with a serious tone, "maybe I should want to tell you that I worked really hard for this majestic house to which I invited you, both to stay the night and to live in whenever you feel ready, but the truth is that I inherited some money, and my grandparents probably were considerably loaded as well. Not only I hoard quite an amount of euros in my bank account, but I also have a diversified stock portfolio. I'm the kind of rich person that unless I turn into a complete imbecile, I shouldn't need to debase myself by working for other people, or at all."
"T-then what are you doing with me? With us?"
Alazne sounded scared. I pull away from our hug, even though she resisted, and I hold her head to invade her mouth with my tongue.
"Hmm... Tastes like blood?" Alazne says, mostly muffled.
"Ah... Sorry, I bit myself out of nervousness."
We make out for a while, and Alazne is into it, but she ends up pushing me away gently. She has blushed heavily, and is avoiding my gaze.
"I-it's hard for me to understand why you would want to spend time with someone like me."
I flick her forehead, maybe a bit harder than I intended.
"Dummy, you know why I am with you! You give too much importance to material possessions. It's not as if I earned any of it! Well, I... I did earn some of it, I suppose. Just focus on the fact that I have an awesome house in which you will be able to run around, fall down the stairs and shit like that."
And I wasn't lying about me having a stock portfolio, although I don't know if it's properly diversified, nor do I know what 'diversified' means in that context. I found out on my bank's site that I had entries in something called a stock portfolio. I googled what that meant. Turns out that Asier bought some numbers related to some companies, and those numbers are tied to charts with jagged lines that go up and down. Some people apparently spend all day glued to their devices to monitor how those lines change direction, and they need to follow the international news as well, because some minor event might spook the markets as if they were a colony of cats that just heard a sudden noise. I have no clue why anyone would jump willingly into the rabbit hole of this stocks garbage. I suppose that the people who gravitate towards it need to feel wired or else they'd get bored. They probably snort loads of cocaine off someone's butt crack. Whatever the case, I own some stock stuff myself, and if one day I need money, I guess I'll sell those stocks where the line is closest to the top of the chart.
"You know, maybe I should look into buying a summer house somewhere in southern Europe so we can live there half a year," I say nonchalantly.
Alazne places a hand on her forehead as if she suddenly feels dizzy. I step towards her in case she staggers.
"Really...? This is a bit too much."
"Just focus on what matters, Alazne: I'm rich enough that I don't have to work. And because I'm not forced to, I can openly hold the opinion that most of the jobs out there are meaningless, soul-killing tasks created to keep the citizens occupied, because the government needs to lower the unemployment rate so they can use it as a reason for why the masses should vote for them. And also some people are so stupid that if they didn't work, they would start wreaking havoc because they wouldn't know how to keep themselves busy. Humanity is just the pits, Alazne, we are naked apes who were given cars and machine guns and we believe ourselves to be civilized because we dress ourselves and produce complicated vocalizations. There's only a layer of conscious thought above millions of years of instinct, and down there it's all raw animality. If we could get away with flinging our shit at some people's faces and ripping some other people's faces off, you know we would."
When I finish, Alazne blinks a few times and looks up at me with her big, hazel eyes.
"I suppose that's right..."
"This whole conversation just reminded me of my general outlook on life that I tend to forget, that's all. In conclusion: I won't waste decades of my precious existence inside a breathing, decaying body rimming some boss' asshole. Instead, I'll rim your--... I mean, I will eat you out. I don't like any of that ass stuff."
Alazne smiles faintly at me while maintaining an absent expression, as if I have removed some vital piece of her brain.
I point at her choice of attire.
"I wanted to mention, that's a curious way of introducing yourself to a ghost."
"A-ah, that's right, there was also the ghost..."
Alazne looks down at her shirt while holding its hem. It features a meme-inspired design that says, in bold letters, 'REJECT HUMANITY, BECOME MONKE', above a close-up, smirking depiction of the Beast Titan.
"Yeah, I saw it online and I thought it was cute. I also thought of getting a tattoo of him."
"For the love of God, I don't want to stare at the Beast Titan's bigfoot face as I'm fucking you."
Despite how nervous Alazne looks, she smirks.
"I would choose his human form, of course."
"They can do whatever they want with him. He'll always be bigfoot to me."
When Alazne finally laughs, she can't hide the desperation.
"I-I think I need to get inside. It's getting really chilly, and I was already high-strung about visiting haunted house."

--

Somehow I ended up writing around 75,000 words of this ridiculous story, so when I finally finish it I'll figure out how to merge it into a functional epub, I'll commission the cover art, I'll sell it on Amazon for a couple of bucks or three, and I'll order a printed version so I can feel that I'm doing something productive with my extraordinarily limited time on this planet.

Also, Alazne keeps bringing up that show, so I might as well link all its openings, creditless and in 60 fps.

My Own Desert Places, Pt. 16 (GPT-3 fueled short)

Link for this short on my personal page, where it looks better

---

I couldn't open up to my beloved Alazne entirely, both about Asier's past relationships and about my existence as a ghost, a woman ghost at that. So I thought that the next best thing was to invite Alazne into more aspects of my current life, starting with the house I usurped from the man-corpse I'm wearing.
I've just finished my workout routine for the day. Thankfully this Asier prick had bought an exercise bench and a whole variety of dumbbells and discs. I massacred through most of the muscles in my back, chest and legs, and tomorrow I intend to focus on isolation exercises. Back when I inhabited my original body, I only ran from time to time, but as a man, it's like the testosterone stored in my balls, although I don't know if it's stored in my balls but I always associate testosterone with testicles, demands I lift weights and feel the lactic acid building up in my muscles as they burn and their fibers break. I suspect it's bad for my health, but it does make me bigger and stronger.
Soon after I gulp down the protein drink, I want to lie in bed and finish off the whole taking care of myself routine by masturbating. Before I had sex with Alazne, I almost exclusively jerked off while looking at some of my ghost roommate Kateryna's framed pictures. That Ukrainian goddess was pure lava while she still breathed. However, ever since I tasted my Alazne's holy juices, I have kept my promise to preserve every ounce of semen this body produces for my girlfriend. She does appreciate it as well, as these days the longest period of time when Alazne doesn't start crying for one reason or another always involves us making love. My beloved never asked me to penetrate her anally, though, for which I remain grateful.
Still sweaty from the workout, I locate Kateryna's characteristic cold spot in the living room, where I've left a movie, some random Hollywood crap, playing so my ghost friend could distract herself.
"Hey, Kat, I've had an idea: I will finally bring my Alazne here!" I announce.
I feel the cold spot floating from its place close to the television to the side of the table where I set up the ouija board. I reach for the television remote and pause the movie.
"As you know," I continue cheerfully, "she's been distraught because she feels that I'm withholding vital details about my life. She's partially wrong, though, because it's two lives I'm not sharing vital details about. But I think Alazne would love me more and feel at ease if she could spend some time in this house. And you two could become friends!"
The ouija planchette slides quickly to spell out OTHER EX FREAKED OUT.
I sigh.
"Yeah... But Ainhoa is a normie, isn't she? She would never tolerate your existence even if you were all nice and submissive with her. She would simply want to get rid of you as if you were some cockroach. It's like those people who see UFOs flying above them and they don't even want to look up because they don't believe in them."
WORRY ALAZNE WILL DISLIKE OUR RELATIONSHIP, the planchette spells out, taking its time.
I remain in silence for a moment.
"Maybe... It seems I'm my beloved's first real relationship, and she can't handle jealousy well. It's alright, I think she'll eventually get over it. As long as she doesn't have a clue how hot you were." I chuckle at my own joke, but then I feel bad. "No, it's not funny. It really hurts me to hide so much stuff from her, but... I can't risk losing her!"
I wipe the stale workout sweat from my face with my palms.
YOU SURE SHE WILL BE FINE WITH A GHOST, the planchette spells out.
"No clue. How would I know? I tried to ease her into ghost stuff, pretending to be some aficionado, and I even admitted that I was a ghost for twenty years, but Alazne believed it to be some stupid metaphor! I'm stuck with that old curse of telling the truth and people thinking I'm joking. A Cassandra syndrome for idiots."
The planchette remains silent.
I suspect that my initial enthusiasm for this wild initiative was related to how pumped up my muscles felt during the workout. Now I'm deflating. Without thinking, I take a few steps to wander around the house, but Kateryna moves the planchette again.
SHOULD I PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE ELSE.
"What do you mean?"
SHOULD I PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE ELSE.
This Kat seriously repeated the same sentence letter by letter. She's too good at this poltergeist stuff. I don't even text that fast on my phone.
"Like who?"
NOT SURE.
"I don't want you to pretend in such a way. I bet that if we could talk face to face, you would have a very strong opinion on this matter. You are Kateryna, my friend and confidant. I don't want to disguise you as anybody else! That would be demeaning."
Kateryna doesn't respond. I don't know if she's impassioned, if she's thinking about it, or if she plans to contradict me. It's so hard to communicate with her, due to her shyness, her fragility and... No, mostly the fact that she's fucking dead.
Despite my sudden doubts about bringing Alazne here, my body feels tingly and numb, from both the excitement and the workout. All I know is that this afternoon Alazne is going to be so impressed with this house I stole that she will want to rush into my bedroom, tear her clothes off and offer her beautiful, defenseless body for me to devour her like the relentless monster that I am. And she needs plenty of examples every day that show her there's more to life than just being sad.
I wait around for Kateryna, whose cold spot has raised the hair on my arms, to assert her existence, but she doesn't.
"Uh... Kat, are you okay? Will it be fine for me to bring my girlfriend over?" I ask cautiously.
IT IS FINE.
"You sure?"
SURE.
I smile in her general direction.
"Alright."
YOU ARE SWEET IRENE.
I chuckle, but I'm genuinely grateful. A warmth spreads in my chest.
"No, you are, Kat. I always come back home hoping to talk to you again. And you haven't even complained that I have spent a few nights at Alazne's apartment without leaving you any distraction."
IM NOT YOUR PET IM NOT YOUR GHOST TO BE INVISIBLY LEASHED, the planchette spells out frantically.
I'm a bit taken aback, but I have only her words to deduce whether I pissed her off.
"Ah... Forgive me, Kat. I didn't mean it that way."
I LIKE YOU IRENE EVEN THOUGH YOU KEPT BLEMISHING MY PICTURES.
"I like you too. I'm... sorry about that."
As I suddenly feel embarrassed, I think about telling her that I didn't suggest she should lurk about in my bedroom as I had a wank, because that was rude even for a ghost, but I recall that I did ask her and even talked directly to her as I masturbated.
"I... think there's something of which I need to inform you, and that you may not like." I scratch the back of my head as I try to figure out how to word it without hurting my friend. "Asier was very proud of how hot you were. That's obvious, given how many photos of you he framed and distributed throughout his house. But Asier's stupid man-face is in those pictures, and I'm Asier now, so picture this: Alazne comes in and right in the hall she sees that photo of Asier and you together, looking so proud and healthy and hot, you in particular. Alazne will think 'what the fuck', and will question me about it. What would I say? Yeah, that's another ex-fiancée of mine, one that happens to be dead. Don't feel bad because she looked like a supermodel. Hell, far hotter than those sticks that they use for supermodels. Alazne will feel as if I punched her in the face, as if bringing her to my place was a way for me to gloat about the kind of hotties I used to date. My beloved already shrivelled up under Ainhoa's gaze, after all."
SO IS IT TRULY GOOD IDEA TO BRING HER HERE, the planchette spells out.
"I want to have a nice day with her. And I hope for my Alazne to move in shortly after! I'm trying to figure out how to make it work out."
YOU ARENT VERY CONFIDENT ABOUT ALAZNE.
"She's a sweet, intelligent and funny girl, with a lot of scars," I say proudly. "She just suffers from abysmal self-esteem and a rotting brain due to depression, and she's also objectively... less attractive than you. But so is the rest of womankind!"
YOURE GOING TO HAVE TO MAKE A CHOICE.
"What do you mean?"
IS THE DEAD GIRL MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR GIRL, the planchette spells out ominously.
I take a step back. For the first time since I learned about my ghost roommate's true nature, a shiver runs through my spine. Cold sweat forms on my forehead over the film of sweat that the workout left.
"What the fuck?" I ask incredulously.
The planchette tilts sideways.
KIDDING.
"Shit, Kateryna!" I say as I collapse on the chair in front of the ouija board. "You are too powerful a poltergeister to say ominous stuff like that. I need to know that Alazne will be safe if I bring her over!"
AFTERLIFE IS BORING.
I shake my head as I control my breathing. I had a flashback to the day when I met Kateryna, and how she nearly burst my balls with a projectile.
"If you think the afterlife is boring, which it is, and I lived there for many years, imagine what a snoozefest is whatever place those ghosts teleport to when they move on. A second level of the afterlife filled with self-absorbed ghosts who haven't carried their regrets over. Do you think you would be able to have sex there? Think again."
I MISS SEX, the planchette spells out.
I sigh. Now that I've spent all these days since I met Alazne, most of them anyway, orgasming inside her except when she was too tired and I only ate her out, I have no clue how I didn't go insane in the afterlife from the lack of sex. I refuse to bring this point up, though, because Kateryna can't solve her predicament, not even through some dedicated self-diddling.
"You're a horny ghost," I say with a more serious voice than I intended. "Anyway, I'm not having sex with Alazne in any level of the afterlife. No, what I mean is that I'm going to bring her over and have sex in my bed. You can watch if you want."
THIS IS THE WORST PRANK CALL EVER.
"I am not joking," I say while I stand up again. "And as usual I forgot my original motive for tangling you in a conversation, and we end up shooting the shit for an hour. I like you way too much, Kateryna. But what I wanted to ask your permission to do is this: I need to get rid of all those pictures of you. And that wasn't a reference to The Cure. Well, I don't know if that means anything for someone who came from Ukraine. What I mean, damn it, is that I'm going to gather all those arousing pictures of you and hide them in the attic."
The planchette remains still.
"Please, Kateryna, tell me whether you are okay with it or not," I say cautiously. "It's fine if you aren't, I'd just have to figure out something else. Is hiding the proof that you existed as a hot woman an affront to your ancestors or something hideous like that?"
The planchette begins to move slowly. Then it slides to point at YES, without spelling out the letters as usual.
Oh no, I've just hurt my friend's feelings. She's trapped on that dreary plane, and I contributed to her pain.
I lower my head for a moment, but then I look towards the source of the cold spot as I let my expression twist with the guilt that I feel.
"That means a whole lot to me and my future with Alazne. Thank you so, so much, Kateryna. I will make it up to you. Think of anything I could help you with, or anything you merely want, and I'll do it."
She doesn't respond. The air in the room remains cold.
I wring my hands as I turn towards the door.
"Alright then, I... I will start gathering stuff up."
As I pass through the hall, I head to pick up the two framed photos displayed there, but first I take a glance into the mirror. My hair is a mess, my eyes are red, and I need a shower. But I'll start with what I should have done from the beginning: getting rid of all evidence of my crimes.

I wasn't content with locating all the framed pictures featuring my smokeshow of a friend and that had been placed to arouse envy, and possibly simple arousal, in whatever guest who wandered into those rooms. I looked inside the cupboards, end tables, nightstands, dressers, credenzas and consoles... I'm not sure how I know what a credenza is. Is that truly a type of furniture? My point is that I went around and opened doors and disturbed the stuff inside, in case Asier stuffed a framed photo in there. I found none. Asier had been careful in exhibiting the photos of his model fiancée so he could remain horny in every room he entered. That lucky son of a bitch... In the end I was more or less confident that Alazne wouldn't find incriminating evidence in the first two floors. And I also need to mention that I didn't find a single photo of Ainhoa. I guess Asier got rid of them permanently after he destroyed that poor woman's life.
I threw the framed photos into two garbage bags and then brought them to the attic. This floor is cozy, although with a lower ceiling than I would prefer. In the room closest to the stairs Asier had set up a couple of sofas, a coffee table and a television which I haven't switched on once. The only natural sources of light are small awning windows, so Asier put a few more lamps than in the other rooms. Beyond a door at the end of this second living room, I enter into a bare space that the previous owner of this house used as a storage room. Half of the space is filled with filled plastic bags, piles of boxes, and also some wooden crates that I haven't dared to open, nor I care to. Merely looking at this mess, left here to gather dust, makes me feel tired on top of how exhausted the workout made me. I put down the two garbage bags filled with Kateryna's framed photos, then walk back to switch on the only lamp in this room.
My stomach grumbles. It's already midday. I guess I can justify preparing myself a meal before I bother with the work of hiding these two garbage bags behind most of the crap already present.
I have taken the habit of buying groceries online from supermarkets and paying extra for some minimum wage minion to drive up to my place and deliver my food right to me. With the pantry and fridge stocked, I focused on figuring out how to follow simple recipes online without burning down my entire existence. I wanted to learn how to cook partly because I need to eat healthier to take care of this decaying body, but also because I wanted to impress my Alazne with my newfound abilities as a cooksmith. And any meal I'm able to cobble together will likely amaze her, because she survives off a diet of cereal, fruit and pre-made meals, and that's when she can find the strength to walk up to the kitchen.
I clear the counter and gather the bottle of olive oil, bacon, garlic, cheese with a name I don't care to remember, four eggs, salt, and grinded pepper. I forgot the packet of pasta. By the time the salted water in the pot is boiling, I find myself tapping on the floor and crossing and uncrossing my arms. Man, cooking is so fucking boring. I don't know who has the time or the motivation for a task this involved. If I wasn't doing this mainly for someone else, I'd stick with pre-made food.

As my stomach digests the spaghetti carbonara, I return to the storage room in the attic and, after a long sigh, I kneel and start moving around boxes and plastic bags to clear space for the photos I need to hide. If the police come here with a search warrant and they find my collection, I'm fucked. I'll have to explain why I have relegated those delicious still images of one of the hottest women in the world to garbage bag material. That must be a crime somewhere, or at least I would make it one if I had the legislative power. Well, if I had that kind of power, many things would change overnight, starting with making myself even richer.
After I push a pile of boxes, something that had been leaning against the back of it falls forward. It's a laptop bag. I press my fist against its surface, assuming I would find it empty, but something solid resists inside. Like a kid who just got a gift, I sit cross-legged and I open the bag. It contains a HP laptop. I take it out and push the power button expecting it to remain dead, but it starts, and I wait until the laptop reaches the login screen. It only has a user created, named 'Kat'. I move the cursor around awkwardly with the touchpad, like I had seen breathing people do back when I was a ghost, but as it seemed back then, it really is a terrible replacement for a mouse. I should make a new user account. I'll have to name it after the bastard whose body I stole, because I don't want Alazne to wonder why on earth I'm using a female name as my user account. I can't justify that by saying 'it's an internet thing'. Men who use women's names online must be a particular brand of crazy.
Something feels wrong here. The laptop looks almost new, barely used. Why did it end up in the attic after he obliterated Kateryna's heart, pushing her towards a downward spiral that led to her death? Whatever. I can go out now to coffee shops with a laptop, even if just to show off. Of course, with the mountain of money in Asier's bank account still waiting for me to squander it, I could buy plenty of laptops, but I'm not that much of an idiot that if I own one that works, I will go and buy a new one.
I continue rearranging piles of boxes, wooden crates and plastic bags until I'm confident that Alazne wouldn't be so bored as to get through the previous obstacles to find the photos I'm about to hide. Although it feels sacrilegous, I grab the two garbage bags filled with framed photos of my super hot friend and I place them on the space I had left.
As I push and pull the junk back to their general places, now to create a wall, my gaze stops by itself on the sliver of a photo that I can see through the opening of a portfolio. I sit down again and put the portfolio over my thighs. When I pull out the first photo, which had been printed on shiny professional grade paper, I find myself staring back at Kateryna's big, slightly slanted emerald eyes. She's leaning sideways on a comforter that I've seen inside my bedroom's dresser. The comforter is folded so Kat could keep her head mostly straight. Her sunflower-colored hair, which looks so soft that I just want to run my fingers through it, frames her perfect features, and also falls over her bare chest in two braided tails. Her full lips, wet and slightly parted, look like an invitation. Her left forearm is crossed under her breasts, which would fit just right in my hands, and look so meaty that my mouth starts salivating heavily. I want to hold those protruding nipples between my lips. Kateryna has also bent a leg in front of her waist as if to hide her pussy, but the curve of her ass suggests one of those bubbly ones that if I saw covered by leggings I would want to cry of joy.
The nervous endings in my crotch fire up white noise, and a shiver shakes me from head to toe.
"Holy shit," I murmur.
It's almost impossible to conceive that such a gorgeous woman could have ever existed. And not only she lived here, but she's my best friend!
I flip through the remaining pictures. It's a whole set of modelling pictures, the most juicy ones shot in this house, but quite a few depict Kateryna in front of popular spots of Donostia, like the slanted cube of Kursaal at night all lighted up. For some minutes I browse through the photos while swallowing my excess saliva. I'm well aware that my hard penis keeps pulsating, but I know that if I took the opportunity to stroke it even once, I wouldn't stop.
Despite the diversity of poses and the skin and flesh these photos allow me to gawk at, the remaining blood in my brain lets a thought through: in those close-up shots of her perfect features, I only see a happy woman confident in her otherworldly beauty. None of the photos would have suggested to anybody that this masterpiece made out of bones and flesh and whatever else there is in a human body would one day become a poltergeist master. What the hell happened, Kateryna? That bastard of a fiancé cheating on you truly fucked you up so much? Asier was clearly insane if he betrayed you!
A noxious thought pops up, one of those that once you become conscious of their existence, they will remain in the back of your mind like an itch you can't scratch: if Asier went as far as producing these professional level modelling photos, or at least they look that good for someone like me who doesn't know shit about the subject, wouldn't he have recorded videos as well? He would have even recorded himself fucking this Ukrainian goddess. I would witness the nasty man-body I'm possessing right now plunging deep into that miracle of flesh. The files may have waited in his computer. When my new monitor arrived, and after I asked Kateryna to refrain from using this one as a dart board, I didnt want to bother going through the files that Asier had accumulated, so I formatted the drives and installed a bootleg version of Windows 10 that I had downloaded. Now I'm getting the sinking feeling that I may have wiped out gigabytes of Kateryna in motion while posing, getting rammed or diddling herself. I may have burned the masturbatory equivalent of the library of Alexandria.
I was pacing back and forth in the attic while cursing and rubbing my eyes, when my phone vibrates and plays my chosen ringtone. I take the phone out. It's my Alazne!
"Hey, sweetie!" I say cheerfully. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing fine," Alazne answers in a soothing voice. "I thought of going out for a walk, but I ended up not doing so. I've been lying in bed and working on catching up with the second season of 'Re:Zero'."
"That's good. I think I only watched the first two. Too bad we are out of sync now..."
"I'm almost done with the fifth episode. I wouldn't mind watching them again with you... W-what I wanted to ask you is whether you'd like to come and... spend the night again with me."
I open my mouth to assure my queen that I will appear in front of her apartment's door very soon, and that I may not even bother wearing pants this time to accelerate the process, when I remember that my whole plan today was to invite my beloved to my place. But I just found some more, and even more troubling, incriminating evidence that this body I'm occupying used to date one of the hottest women who ever lived. What other evils might be lurking in this home, waiting for Alazne to casually open some cabinet door? No, I'm not comfortable with bringing my girlfriend over today. I'll dedicate tomorrow morning to scour the rest of the house.
I shift my weight to the other leg and smile seductively at my phone, but it doesn't react.
"Why would you want me to spend the night with you in your apartment, Alazne?" I ask in a roguish tone.
"W-well... I guess..."
"You guess?"
"Um... I want to feel your warmth again."
I bite my lower lip as my breath thickens. I'm getting the tingles down there.
"So you want us to lie in your bed and for me to wrap my strong arms around you and pull you close. What else do you want, Alazne?"
"I want you to... kiss me and..."
"And?"
"And..."
"... Tell me, Alazne. What else do you want?"
"I want your cock in me," she says in a mix of embarrassment and lust.
I gasp and lick my lips. My sweatpants are feeling tighter.
"You're going to have to wait for that."
"I know... But I really need it."
"Sure. I'll also bring you dinner," I say with my regular voice.
"You're the best."
"No, keep the praise until I take care of you tonight. And don't you dare play with yourself. I'm already hungry."
"I-I won't. I can't wait."
I hang up. My heart is jumping in my chest, and I feel every hair on my body. Ah, this woman of mine drives me wild.

My Own Desert Places, Pt. 15 (GPT-3 fueled short)

Link for this short on my personal blog, where it looks better

---

In a futuristic room bathed in blue light, inside a tank filled with similarly blue water float a bunch of little ghosts: jellyfish. They keep contracting at regular intervals to maintain their buoyancy. Alazne leans towards the glass, and her curious face gets reflected. The jellyfish don't react, because if they have a brain it's as minimally functional as possible. And they are lucky for it. For a few seconds I grow jealous of jellyfish.
Alazne agreed to let me organize a potentially exhausting outing for Saturday. I chose the aquarium in Donostia, because from the few times I came here as a ghost I recalled it being quite beautiful, and looking at animals is always cool; no matter how terrible the troubles in one's life, at least you aren't trapped in a zoo exhibit or a tank filled with water so a bunch of idiots can pay to gawk at you. Then again, if the animals are stupid enough, maybe it's a good thing that people are keeping them safe and feeding them and cleaning their shit so they don't have to worry. It's like an utopia. And to an extent I would have loved to take care of Alazne like that, but eventually she'd feel like rebelling against her perfect living conditions and would think of ways to fuck everything up. I don't blame her, that's just human nature.
"Have you ever been stung by a jellyfish, Asier?" Alazne asks.
It takes me a few seconds to snap out of it and realize that I'm Asier. I'm such a moron, and yet I have to believe I can keep up this facade permanently.
"I have been stung by many jellyfishes," I say solemnly. "Most had the form of human beings, others were abstract concepts that however caused me painful rashes, metaphorical ones at least."
Alazne chuckles and pushes my shoulder playfully. I rub it pretending that it hurt.
"I see," Alazne says. "You're talking about your past relationships, aren't you?"
Dumb as I am, I just gave my beloved an opening to pry into this troublesome past.
"Yes," I say, smiling a bit. "At least I think so. Now then: have you ever been stung by a jellyfish, my dear?"
Alazne squints at me sideways. I can tell that she doesn't enjoy my wariness, but she must realize there's a good reason for it.
"A few times," says Alazne. "Most were small and insignificant. Others were large and memorable."
We move on from the damn jellyfish, and we enter a large, darkened room with a shape that brings to my mind a hallway, but without any doors that the visitors could get into. Dispersed throughout there are tanks, either cylindrical or hemispheres mounted on displays. All the tanks are lighted as if nothing else in this building mattered but looking at the fish and fish-related beings, and I guess that's why people come to the aquarium. I have no idea why this aquarium looks like the rooms of a futuristic spaceship, though.
As we approach a cylindrical tank filled with small fish that remind me of sardines, and with a starfish glued to the glass, I can't take out of my mind Alazne's suggestion that she dated quite a few people before. Back when I stalked her as a ghost, I never saw her interacting with anyone who wasn't selling her something. I guess she dealt with a few coworkers at different offices, but even as a ghost the idea of working terrified me, and I didn't want to enter any office in case they captured me and I ended up spending my eternity chained to a desk.
"Tell me about this large and memorable one," I say cautiously to Alazne, "I mean the metaphorical jellyfish who stung you."
Alazne sighs and smiles.
"There's not much to tell. He was an idiot, but I guess he had his reasons. He was a lot like you in some ways, and that's why I liked him."
"What was his name?"
"Asier, and he had this tendency to avoid opening up whenever I asked him any direct question about his life previous to meeting me."
"Well, I'm lucky that I'm not Asier," I say while trying a smile, but it falls on its own a couple of seconds later.
I look away, and my gaze conveniently happens to land on a crustacean resembling a shrimp, but larger, uglier and more armored. The creature seems startled that a stranger has noticed it.
I sigh deeply, although I avoid meeting Alazne's deliberate stare.
"I mean, it sounds like he avoided the subject for a reason," I say in a low voice. "Maybe he had something to hide, maybe that something wasn't worth knowing or maybe it was something that you wouldn't have liked. Maybe he had a good reason for doing what he did, or maybe not, but I do know that the only thing you're achieving by thinking about those matters is losing time and energy that could be dedicated to making the best of now."
I look at Alazne hoping that she understood my point. Her eyes are even sadder now, and her shoulders hang low. A wave of self-loathing threatens to make me tremble.
I grab her hands. They are colder than usual.
"I mean, I don't have anything to hide," I say.
Alazne looks around for a moment, likely hoping that no groups are approaching us, and none are. She hugs me, resting her face on my chest.
"You know I have wanted to die for a long time," she says in a soft, vulnerable voice, "and that I have actively tried to. What detail about your life up to this point could be worse?"
I feel my whole body stiffening.
"Can you please be my rock?" Alazne asks, then looks up at me with glistening eyes. "You don't know how much it means to me that there's someone like you in my life. Someone who doesn't judge me for my past, and accepts me despite it."
I run my fingers along the back of her head.
"I am your rock, sweetie. It's just that I meant it when I said that my life up to meeting you no longer mattered to me. I have... done and experienced things I regret. Just imagine someone showing you a video taken of you as a child, and that version behaves so embarrassingly and out of character for who you know yourself to be, that you just want to burn every single photograph and videotape that registered such a version."
"You don't need to prove anything. I love you."
She says those words with such conviction that it makes me feel like crying.
"I love you too."
"It's just that I want to know. I want everything of you, and I will accept all of it like how you have accepted me. I can't help but feel you are being silly, because whenever you end up sharing it with me, I will simply hug you, kiss you, and if necessary, dry your tears."
"I'm physically incapable of crying, though, as a man."
Alazne flicks my nose with barely any strength.
"Like I said, everything of you."
She can tell that I won't open up under pressure, so she grabs my hand and we keep observing the exhibits. We stop in front of a big tank featuring bushes of red algae and some weird fishes that just rest on rocks, seemingly dead except because they aren't floating face up, and also move their fins from time to time. I can't focus on any of the fishes now, though. Every day that passes with me concealing the sordid details about my troubled existence, I feel as if I'm pushing a poisoned pin millimeter by millimeter into Alazne's heart. She needs to know. But how can I open up about being a ghost? It goes against the whole purpose of my previous existence as one of the damned.
And being a ghost wasn't the worst part: it was being a woman. I have to face now that the most damaging aspect of my life is having been born with two X chromosomes. But what would I have done if I fell in love with a lovely woman, and had the best, most passionate sex of my life with her, only for my girlfriend to eventually reveal that she was a man all along? I'd probably kill myself. Is that superficial, though? The world would likely be a better place without me, but I don't want to die, and I want to live with Alazne in love and happiness. My head hurts so much today.
"You okay?" Alazne asks.
I'm so preoccupied with my thoughts that I didn't even notice that I've been holding a door open for Alazne. She looks at me worried.
"Yeah," I answer. "Just some thinking. About me opening up and all that unmanly stuff."
Alazne stands on her tiptoes and gives me a sweet kiss on the lips. I grab her by the waist and press my mouth against hers for a couple of seconds. When we pull away from each other, still holding on to each other's hands, she offers me a sheepish smile, a slightly contrite one.
"Why would I pressure you about something you don't want to do, when we already have such great times together? I'm selfish. I'm loving the fish exhibits and this whole day you prepared for me. Let's keep enjoying it."
I beam at her, maybe making my relief too obvious.
"That's my girl."

We come across the first view into the central tank of the aquarium, a lake-like monster of an exhibit in which swim placidly big fishes, bigger fishes, turtles, sharks and some other crazy shit. In the background I can make out the tunnel that awaits up ahead, so we will be able to look up at the passing sharks as they seem to fly overhead. The times I visited aquariums featuring such daring tunnels, I always feared that the glass would break and that we would end up swimming with the aquatic monsters. And I have witnessed a couple of times how one of those sharks bit in half some random innocent fish during feeding time, maybe because they confused a living fish with their meal, or just because sharks are demons masquerading as animals so they can catch us unawares.
I grab Alazne by the arm and ask her to stop next to the glass as I pull out my phone.
"Please, I want a photo of you in front of the horrifying monsters."
Alazne poses. Despite our recent argument, she offers me a beaming smile that could outshine the whole tank. After I register the photo on the device's memory, I make sure that I don't delete it by mistake, so I can treasure it forever.
I put the phone back in my pocket and take Alazne in a kiss. With this display of affection I want to tell her how much she means to me, and that everything I do is for both of us, not just myself.
"Asier? That's you, isn't it?" a woman's voice says to my back.
Through the sounds of splashing water and the chattering tourists, I didn't hear anyone coming, but I spot an elegant woman with chin-length, shiny black hair styled in a way that looks as if a hairdresser just worked on it. She's wearing a mid-calf length floral dress that is a mix of green, pale yellow and red, and over it a short denim jacket. She's Ainhoa, my ex-fiancée. Or Asier's. One of them anyway. She approaches us confidently, as if her mind had never been plagued by anxiety nor doubts, although Asier cheating on her with as many women as he could fuck must have destroyed her mindset.
It takes me a few seconds to notice that the man in his early thirties pushing a stroller next to Ainhoa must be her husband. He's pale, probably unable to withstand too much time in the sun, and his hair is black. A mean expression draws his eyebrows together. By the look he gives me, I can tell he knows Asier cheated on the woman he loves. He probably realized that Ainhoa remains in love with that Asier prick, even though his ghost moved on to the beyond. At least this husband guy has the integrity to look annoyed that we ran into each other. I respect that.
"Funny running into you in an aquarium," Ainhoa says, sounding friendlier and more stable than I expected due to how we last parted.
What the fuck are you doing here, Ainhoa?! That's what I want to shout, but instead I say:
"It's funny, yes. How are you both doing?"
"Good. This is my husband, Unai."
"Nice to meet you," Unai says in a monotone voice. He shakes his head slowly and looks at the ground.
I open my mouth to greet the nearly cuckolded husband, but I realize that Alazne is trying subtly to pull her hand away from mine. I'm surprised, as I wouldn't have expected it, but I hold hers tighter. In a few seconds she gets the point and closes her fingers timidly around my hand. I gesture towards Alazne.
"This is my beloved, Alazne. Gaze upon her gloriousness."
"Hi," she says, then looks up at Unai with a nervous smile.
"Hi," Unai repeats in the same monotone he used before.
Alazne glances towards Ainhoa, but she misses my ex-fiancée's head. My beloved can't sustain her smile for this greeting.
"Hi to you as well. Nice meeting you," Alazne tells my ex, in a voice a moment away from breaking.
It might have only happened for a second, but my mind retains the image of Ainhoa's glad expression as she stares at Alazne, who now I recognize was intimidated by how mature and well put together is Asier's ex-fiancée, one of them anyway. And although Ainhoa wipes that expression off her face, she must be gloating internally about it. I recall having referred to my Alazne as gentle but passionate, reclusive, severely depressed. I'm a fucking bastard. Why would I tell anyone about Alazne's private details like that? Who else should have to know that my beloved is reclusive and depressed? I want to punch myself in the gut.
"Where are you from?" Unai asks Alazne.
She hesitates, as confused as me that the guy would want to ask my beloved anything, but then tells him.
"I'm from Irún. Born there."
Unai makes a thoughtful sound.
"So am I, although I haven't lived there in a while. Olaberria. Really quiet area, nothing like this."
"Yes, I... Yeah."
Alazne fiddles with the hem of her jacket. I have no clue why this asshole husband startled my beloved, but I want to distract their attention from her. I nod towards the stroller that Unai is holding.
"As you told me, Ainhoa, you guys spawned a creature."
Ainhoa is disconcerted by my choice of words, and looks towards the stroller as if she had expected to find something else there. But then she looks back at me, smiles and nods. This woman is hard to read. I suppose that she makes a habit of disguising how she really feels.
"... Yes. Our dear girl will turn a year and six months next Tuesday. We thought it would be nice to bring her to the aquarium, now that we have... disposable income."
I can't see the creature inside the stroller from here, but it isn't making any noises, so either she's sleeping or dead. Why would you bring a baby or a toddler or whatever this child of hers is now to an aquarium, when she doesn't even know what a fish is? Does Ainhoa believe that her daughter will retain anything? Whatever. Parents don't enjoy hearing these things. Or anything lukewarm about their children, for that matter. Parents become brainwashed by their parental hormones and they cease to exist as human beings: they have been reduced to tools to bring forth the next generation. I have never wanted to bear a child myself, even back when I inhabited a body that was capable of such supposed miracle. There are few things in life that I would want less than to be destroyed from the inside by a goblin that one day would yell at me, steal my shit, bring weirdoes home and then abandon me forever. People are so weird with their life choices.
"Yes. She will enjoy seeing the fishes," I say with a fake smile.
Ainhoa nods and smiles faintly. Her silence is unnerving. I lack the tools to engage in small talk, and I'm never quite sure how much I can say about certain things. However, I realize she's working herself up to tell me something. After a few seconds of awkwardness, she lifts her gaze towards me and opens her pretty mouth.
"I think most people would have refused the money," she says softly, "but it will help us so much. I'm very grateful, as I texted you. Most of it will benefit our daughter, so... you did a good thing."
Oh yeah, I gave her thousands of euros, didn't I?
"You're welcome. It's good that you're taking care of your daughter. That's what's important."
"That's not all, but thank you. Listen... I have to tell you something."
Ainhoa is holding my gaze with a troubling determination.
"I know who you are," she adds, "and I know you're not Asier."
I nearly gasp. I realize that Alazne's hand that I'm holding is sweating, but maybe it already was. I cast a quick glance at her, and see that she has fixed her gaze on the floor.
"I know you're not Asier," Ainhoa repeats softly, "not anymore at least. So it feels wrong to call you by that name. What happened to you is a sort of miracle, the proof that people can start over. I no longer hold any disdain towards you. It would be like blaming someone for what another did."
I'm immensely relieved.
"Thank you."
Ainhoa looks at the both of us. Although Alazne clearly doesn't want, or maybe can't handle, any more of this encounter, Ainhoa ignores it. She starts walking as if to pass us by. Her husband lets out a soft sight and maneuvers the stroller. However, as Unai was already showing me his back, Ainhoa turns and talks to me from a meter and a half away.
"I hope the... problem at your house is solved."
"Problem? What are...? Ah, you mean--" I realize that Alazne hasn't got the faintest clue that Kateryna lives in my house, nor that she's a ghost. The slight sweat on my forehead is turning cold. "It's not a problem for me. You see it as an infestation of sorts, something for which to call an exterminator, but for me it's simply a fact of life. Even millennia-old civilizations knew about them, right? They had all kinds of traditions and rituals to handle them. It happens all around us, although most people don't get to realize it. Nothing to worry about."
"Oh. I guess I was just not used to... bugs," Ainhoa says awkwardly. "But you are for sure the expert. If it doesn't bother you, I guess it's okay."
Ainhoa finally decides to catch up with her annoyed husband, but she keeps talking to me over her shoulder.
"I hope things continue going well for you."
I wave goodbye.
"For you too. Take care."
The encounter startled me so much, and I suddenly felt so relieved when Ainhoa and her family disappeared behind a wall, that I don't realize that I have absentmindedly approached the tank as if I was very interested in observing the fish. I have dragged Alazne with me. When I look at her downcast, mortified face, my heart sinks.
"Ah... You aren't well at all, are you, Alazne."
"I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot."
I raise her chin with my left hand, and speak to her in a voice brimming with affection.
"No, you aren't. Why did you try to stop holding my hand?"
She tries to reciprocate my gaze, but ends up looking away. Her brow is trembling.
"B-because I thought you would want me to."
"So you didn't want to?"
I caress her blushed cheek, and then slide my hand to the back of her head to cup it and bring her mouth towards mine. I separate her lips with my tongue. She closes her eyes, and after a few seconds of making out, her hand stops trembling. When we pull away, she still looks up at me with a pained expression.
"Alazne, do you truly understand that you are my girlfriend?" I ask her. "I'm as serious with you as a person can be."
"Of course I know it, but..."
Her voice sounds so frail that I feel an urge to take her somewhere else where we can be truly alone.
"That's not how it seemed to me. If I am your boyfriend and you want to hold my hand, you keep holding it no matter who approaches us."
Alazne takes a deep breath, then finds the strength to look me in the eye.
"Asier, you had something with that woman, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did. It was obvious, I guess... She's my ex-fiancée."
One of them, anyway.
Alazne snaps her head back. I don't know what kind of relationship she had expected Ainhoa and I to have, but this truth makes her grimace as if I had slapped her.
"Y-you had a full life before me... Do you still love her?"
"No, my mind is only set on you, Alazne."
"S-she looked at me very aggressively. I think she loves you still."
"Whether or not she does, it makes no difference."
"Such an elegant and confident woman was someone you were about to get married to, but now you are with me..." Alazne looks down at the patch of floor between our feet. She presses her lips together as a naked despondency overwhelms her facial features. "I'm clearly a downgrade."
"Don't say that ever again, Alazne."
"W-was I just a pity date...?"
I pull her into an embrace. She stiffens up, but then gradually falls limp as she sobs into my chest. Her tears stain my shirt while I kiss the top of her light brown hair.
"Well, clearly fish time is over," I say as I sigh.
Alazne tries to say something, but she shuts up. I suppose that in her current state she wouldn't have been able to finish a sentence without sobbing. A few groups, either young couples or older ones with their children, pass us by while offering us glances of either concern or embarrassment. I keep caressing Alazne's light brown hair until she calms down.

We leave the aquarium a few minutes later. It must be around six and a half in the afternoon. As I hold Alazne's waist, we walk along the port, near the edge to the calm, basil green, fish-smelling waters. The sky is getting cloudier, although there's barely any breeze. It may not rain today. Still, the weather changes way too quickly around these parts.
I want for Alazne and I to sit in peace for a few minutes, so I guide her towards a long pier built like a regular street, only narrower, quieter, and surrounded by the bay waters on one side and a whole lot of resting leisure boats on the other. I always wondered how they manage to maneuver out of their parking spaces. In any case, this part of the harbour looks humid and depressing, but Alazne and I sit on a stone bench added to the low wall that protects us from falling into the bay.
Alazne is reluctant to speak, so I merely stroke her hand as I lean my head against hers. Some distance away a bunch of people are talking, and I also hear the background noise of traffic from a couple of streets away. A few minutes later I look up and find a sliver of clear blue, while most of the sky is puffy white.
"When that woman acted so familiarly with you," Alazne begins suddenly, in a hollow voice, "I felt such a mix of worry, fear, and anger towards her... I have no clue what's wrong with me."
"There's nothing wrong with you."
I lean in trying to look her in the eye, but she turns her head slightly away from me.
"Well, while that woman was hitting on you..." Alazne says. "If she was doing it at all... I don't know. Something just overwhelmed me. It was like I wanted to hurt her. I never had such thoughts before."
"You're jealous." I smile, although she can't see it. "Completely normal. The more you care about your romantic partner, the stronger it gets, but for some people it can get pretty crazy."
"But I don't even know her... I mean, I couldn't know her. She's a stranger to me."
"She's someone who came over and spoke to me with some intimacy. You are pissed because you feel you should be the only one treating me that way. It's normal, as I say. And I would get similarly annoyed if anyone approached you. You learn to live with it."
"S-so that's what it was, jealousy...?"
I grab her head so I can kiss her forehead. Alazne finally turns her face towards me. Her hazel eyes look naked, defenseless, and still afraid.
"Asier... I haven't dated anyone for more than two months." Her voice becomes quieter as she speaks. "I could hardly consider the ones I had as proper relationships, and they happened a long time ago."
"Alright, so this is all new territory for you."
"But you already had a fiancée. You were that close to deciding how the rest of your life was going to go."
"The divorce rates are quite high these days, if I remember correctly."
"The intention must have been there."
"I'm not entirely sure about that..."
Alazne's mouth is slightly open and she's frowning in confusion, as if expecting me to clarify the many unknowns of my life.
I sigh.
"Listen, Alazne... Ainhoa is a normal person. She can't conceive except what passes for normal. That's her measure of good and evil. I don't want someone like that as a girlfriend, nor as a wife. A lifelong relationship with such a person would bore me out of my mind."
"Th-that's... That's quite cynical..."
"I have never been quite sure of what that word means, or at least what people mean when they use it."
"What I mean... What I mean is..."
"I have come to understand that even if Ainhoa is not a permanent fixture in my current life, if we happen to run into her, I can tolerate her. It's just one of those things that happen, that come with someone's life. Baggage of a sort. That's all she is for me."
Alazne rubs her eyes, then leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees. The slight breeze is tousling her hair, which she's wearing loose.
"Asier, I've been thinking of what you said yesterday. You mentioned that you travelled the world because you wanted to learn more about your condition, and to meet more people with your same problems. That if you remained at home, you might surrender to despair. It was something like that, right...?"
"Yes, but--"
"You have been comfortable with thoughts of death as well as... my suicide attempts. You are familiar with death, aren't you?"
"Of course. I mean... I'm desensitized to it."
Silence hangs between us. Alazne brings her knees up to her chin and wraps her arms around them, then closes her eyes.
"Asier, a-are you dying? Do you have a terminal illness or something to that effect that will take you away from me? I-I wouldn't be able to bear it, but if that's the case, you still need to tell me. I need to know in advance."
I feel a cold, nasty sensation in my guts as if some organ had teared open. I'm a horrible piece of shit, aren't I. Just the lowliest garbage imaginable. I didn't predict how much refusing to open up was going to hurt the woman who loves me, or maybe I didn't bother understanding how it would damage her.
I swallow to moisten my mouth.
"It's the opposite case," I say in a thin voice. "I was already terminal, and now I'm alive thanks to you."
Alazne opens her eyes and stares straight at me, but she doesn't say anything. I can't tell what she's thinking. A tear rolls down her cheek. She looks weary, as if she's had enough of just about everything.
I try to focus on how to clarify what I mean, but nothing comes out. I don't know how many seconds pass. Maybe more than a minute.
"I wish we could freeze," Alazne says barely above a whisper, "or everything around us would freeze, so it would be just you and I and nothing would change. Maybe I'm too sensitive about it. Children are supposed to grow out of these fears relatively quickly, but... I guess I never really matured. I know well how easily people can die. I had my entire life upended. And after I met you and came to care so, so much about you, I fear that you are going to die at any moment, that one day you will leave my apartment and I will never see you again. I can't take it. I guess I'm too fragile, but... I mean, that's just how it is."
Alazne has started to cry in earnest now, even though her expression doesn't change and no sound escapes from her mouth. I place my hand on her left cheek and caress it with my thumb. She shuts her eyes and bites her lower lip, but she doesn't try to hide the tears rolling down her face.
I don't say anything, although I don't think she expects me to.
"I had assumed that I would always be alone," Alazne continues. "Still, by the end of that day you pursued me, I felt like I had been living in a stuffy, darkened, closed off room for decades, but suddenly the windows blew open, letting air and the sunlight in. I find myself imagining futures. I fantasize about going to this or that place, doing certain activities with you, and even travelling abroad."
"Please, share those ideas one of these days," I say calmly. "I might not come up with them on my own."
I'm not sure if Alazne has paid attention to what I said, because she continues:
"And it's just because you want me."
I scoot closer to her, then pull her head towards me so she can bury her face in my chest. I rest my chin on the top of her head, and my gaze falls upon the wide view of the bay.
"I do more than want you, Alazne. You will integrate that eventually, I think."
"It's so hard..."
I allow her to cry silently onto my chest as she presses herself against me. I caress her soft hair slowly.
There are around three dozen leisure boats on the waters of the bay, some close enough that I can distinguish the expression in the couple of men walking around on top. Except for one of the boats, all the others remain static as if they had dropped the anchor, if that's a thing that boats still do. Beyond the calm waters, which reflect the clouds that cover the sky, on top of the large cape that rings the bay stands the castle-like structure of Monte Igueldo, or of the amusement park. I never quite figured out if Monte Igueldo was the whole structure or if people just call it that because they are lazy. I guess I'm lazy as well, because I never bothered figuring it out. It doesn't matter anyway, in the grand scheme of things.
It's peaceful. Although Alazne is crying softly against my chest, or at least I assume she keeps doing it, because I can only feel her breath intake, the world that surrounds me, of which I'm a tiny and insignificant part, looks beautiful in its indifference. Once all of our pains have passed, way beyond whenever our countries and civilizations die off, these enormous shapes that our human constructions cling to will remain in place. It's all so stupid.
"For many, many years I felt incapable of connecting with others," I say. "I couldn't even get interested in the living. Their existences kept going undisturbed whether or not I was present. By that point they felt like a different species, their busy lives an old foreign movie in another language. People came and went like the seasons. But I remained in the middle of all that. And I kept thinking, what had I done that warranted me getting trapped in this wasteland, enduring the pain of this acid loneliness with every passing second? For what regret did I remain penitent, and what goal would I have to fulfill so I could be free? Or was it my punishment to witness listlessly the ravages of time for no reason that I could understand? And at one point, a resolution flicked in my consciousness: I would keep drifting. I no longer expected the hurt to end, but I figured I would get to enjoy the sights as they came."
I pause, waiting for some kind of interruption. Maybe Alazne will speak, or laugh, or cry, or simply ask me to continue. She doesn't. I hope she's still listening.
"I was a ghost for twenty years," I say. "And then I met you."
The breeze is picking up, pushing sea smells into my nostrils. It's getting too chilly to just sit around.
Alazne sniffles.
"I don't understand anything," she says.

---

Note from May of 2021:

The same day I wrote this entry I walked up to the apartment building where I chose that Alazne lived for my probably fictional story. It didn't take me long to walk there, because I live in the same city. I hadn't seen that area of Irún in years, probably since I studied at the nearby high school, and as I have experienced before when coming across places or objects that I built fictional stories around, the experience was surreal, even dizzying. As I stood exactly where my protagonist did, I expected Alazne to come out at any moment. I thought about moments that had taken place there in my story, and it was as if I had fabricated memories in my brain that were more vivid than most real ones. Like Alazne herself, I have struggled with depression for most of my life. One therapist called it 'clinical depression resistant to treatment'. I don't suffer it the same way my fictional character does, as I have more functional coping mechanisms such as writing, but I'm sure this depression is responsible for how I have forgotten most details of my life, and how many of the remaining events seem tattered. I used to know people for years, and was even very tangled with some, and yet I only remember sequences of a few seconds of my experiences with them. By writing fiction it often seems as if I'm creating vivid memories to fill all the spaces in my brain where voids have remained. And unfortunately, given that I have been unlucky in the stuff that has happened to me as well as the people I've met, no matter how crazy my fictional memories get, they feel warmer than the real ones.

My Own Desert Places, Pt. 14 (GPT-3 fueled short)

Link for this short on my personal page, where it looks better

---

When I regain consciousness, I find myself in a new place. I hear the muffled sound of soft rain outside of whatever bedroom I woke up in. I smell a woman's scent. I feel as comfortably warm as a human being can be, lying in bed and covered by its sheets, but I also hold the body heat of another person in my arms. I feel her soft hair against my face, her back against my chest, her ass against my penis, her thighs against mine, her feet between mine.
Alazne has slept in my arms for the first time, and she remains huddled against me. When I was a ghost I daydreamed so many times about this moment, and yet I had never thought that I would be able to return to life. I should feel much happier. I shouldn't be taking this miracle for granted, but my emotions feel out of sync. Is it due to them passing through Asier's brain? Or is this body still shaken by the car accident?
My left arm is numb, caught under Alazne's neck. When I move my right arm slightly, it rubs Alazne's breasts, which despite being covered by her bra and her top they feel so good against the bare skin of my arm that I don't try to move it again. My heart starts beating faster.
"You're awake," Alazne says softly. "I've been up for around half an hour."
I moisten my dry lips with my tongue and I kiss Alazne's neck. She shivers and narrows her shoulders.
"Rare of you to wake up this soon," I say.
"Y-yeah... I thought I would have ended up so exhausted from the great time we had yesterday that my brain wouldn't work until around twelve in the morning. But I guess that at least for today, I have broken another one of my habits..."
"Being this close to your warmth," I whisper into her ear, "having my penis nestled between your ass cheeks like this... I'm finally in heaven."
Alazne rubs her butt slowly against my erection as I hug her tighter with my right arm.
"I-it feels real good..." Alazne says in a thin voice. "Makes me feel wanted."
"You know you are."
Alazne hugs my right arm. She runs her middle finger slowly over my hairs, making me shiver. She gets to the edge of my hand and strokes the tips of my fingers, then grips them.
"Tell me things about you, Asier," Alazne says dreamily. "Tell me what makes you happy. What do you like to do in your spare time?"
I chuckle.
"Why do you ask?"
She has all the reasons in the world these days to want to know everything about me. It just happens that Asier isn't even my name, and that I've never been a good liar. I hated liars, actually. I considered honesty to be one of my main virtues, no matter how much the person on the other side of the conversation was bothered by what I had to say. But by possessing a dead man's corpse to date Alazne, I signed up for a lifetime of deceit.
"Just curious..." Alazne answers. "Maybe I can learn more about you."
"There really isn't much to know. I'm a boring guy."
"I doubt that, but if you say so..."
Alazne's hand moves up my arm, and she makes a fist around my bicep. She squeezes it gently.
"You're pretty strong," says Alazne, with a hint of arousal. "Do you work out?"
"I do, yes. I have an exercise bench at home, as well as dumbbells, a barbell and a variety of weighty discs."
"Oh, you're into weightlifting?"
"It's not just that. It's about self-defense. You never know when some random Eastern European blond guy would want to flatten your intestines. Lifting weights is good for building up your strength."
"Do you want to show me sometime?" she says playfully.
I want to eat her up.
"You will get to see it for sure, as well as many other things. But I already proved to you how I strong I am, didn't I? I recall you squirming under me as I pushed myself deep inside you, and you couldn't even more your arms."
"Y-you're right. You did."
I nibble on her ear. My girl cock is getting harder, bending now against one of her ass cheeks. I'm sure she can feel its pulse.
"And that's exactly what you needed, isn't it?" I whisper into her ear canal. "That I would take full control of you, and all you had to do was feel pleasure."
Alazne is breathing harder.
"Y-yes..."
"You are small and you have a soft ass, Alazne. Perfect spanking material. You did tell me that you needed a boyfriend who would discipline you."
Alazne turns her head towards me and I hold her glistening gaze, as much as I can see in the morning light filtered by the curtain.
"B-but I'll be good, I promise."
"That's perfect, because I need you to be a good girl right now."
Alazne smiles as I let go of her and pull my left arm from under her neck. I maneuver under the sheets so I straddle Alazne's waist while looking down at her flushed, sleepy face. My hands run across her bare, warm waist and up her belly. I slide my hands under her top, then lift the bridge of her bra until my fingers gently caress both of her tits. They're warm and soft, and the nipples have already hardened. I squeeze and fondle her breasts, alternating between tenderness and firmness, while I pinch her right nipple with my right thumb and index finger.
Alazne closes her eyes and exhales softly.
"That feels good, doesn't it?" I ask.
"Mm-hmmm," she moans as she nods.
I roll the sensitive nubs between my forefingers and thumbs while her chest raises to meet my hands. I lean down and press my mouth to hers. Our saliva tastes stale and mostly bad, but it doesn't matter to me now. I move my hands down to the bottom hem of her top. Alazne raises her arms obediently over her head, allowing me to pull the top off her body. Her bra follows.
I hold up the top.
"I hope you can clean this properly without fading the Wings of Freedom logo."
"W-what do you mean?"
"Somehow it ended up with huge semen stains down the front."
"W-what? No it didn't!"
"I'm afraid it did. Don't worry, I can buy you anything, even more 'Attack on Titan' merchandise."
Alazne reaches with one hand and tries to wipe the stain with her thumb and index fingers, but the semen this body produces is just too powerful.
"You planned this, didn't you. So I would have to dress with more girly clothes."
"So you wouldn't wear anything, more like it. Don't worry. After we shower we can go downtown and buy clothes you like. It isn't raining that much. Right now though, I'm starving and I want to taste your body all over."
Alazne gives me a seductive grin as she slides her hands down my chest.
"You're going to have to let me taste you first," she says. "The Chinese from last night didn't fill me enough."
I push the sheets off my body and I stand up next to the bed, facing Alazne, who sits up and hooks her fingers in the waistband of my boxers. She slowly slides them down my legs as she kisses her way from my stomach, across my hip bones, and to the base of my cock, which hasn't gone down since I woke up this morning. As Alazne smears the sensitive skin of my shaft with her warm saliva, I slide my hands through her light brown hair. She opens her mouth and takes me in.
I close my eyes as Alazne's wet mouth slides slowly up and down my hard cock. She swirls her tongue around the tip in a figure eight pattern. The pleasure is nearly unbearable, but to my surprise I also feel relieved: if Alazne keeps her mouth busy, she won't ask me questions for which I would have to fabricate the answers.

After we bought a bunch of clothes for Alazne in the stores of the Mendibil mall, we parted ways so I could return home and make sure that my ghost roommate and confidant Kateryna hadn't killed herself due to her recent despair. Just kidding, she couldn't get rid of her consciousness even if she was serious about suicide, because she's trapped in the afterlife.
That night, which I spent at Alazne's apartment again, I offered to bring her the following morning to another potentially exhausting adventure in Donostia, but she refused. She wants to ease herself into doing more and more things slowly, because her brain isn't used nor suited for it. We got together the next afternoon at three, and walked hand in hand to the center of Irún so we could order coffee in one of the popular restaurants and coffee shops along the Luis Mariano street. We end up choosing to sit at an outside table under a retractable, two-sided awning.
After we both order coffee with milk and the waitress leaves, Alazne rests her chin on her hands while offering me a lovely smile. Her light brown hair and eyebrows contrast starkly with her pale, freckled skin, particularly in the sunlight. She looks beautiful, even though she's dressed simply in a long-sleeve green sweatshirt and black capri pants.
"I used to force myself to walk up to the center of the city and sit for at least an hour in a coffee shop to read, mostly to avoid spending the entire day at home like I needed. Like my brain demanded, more accurately. Still, I could feel the anxiety mounting by the minute."
"It's a good thing you were pushing yourself out of your comfort zone, given how you could have ended up."
"I felt that it was good, yes. Still, I'm talking about a period of several years. For the last couple, I barely went out unless I had to work. It got so tiresome, sitting alone at a coffee shop, feeling people staring at me and wondering why I didn't come with someone. Two waiters, one a young guy and the other a woman in her forties, asked me whether I had ordered two coffees. When I repeated that I just wanted one, they said they were kidding. Fucking assholes... And one day as I was sitting calmly like we are doing now, a guy came over to me, put his arm around my shoulders and tried to talk to me right into my ear."
I press my lips together as I feel my blood pressure raising.
"Did you kick him?" I ask in a grave voice.
"No, but I wanted to. He wouldn't leave me alone. I felt my heart beating faster and faster as he sat beside me and refused to go away. I was sweating. My palms felt wet. It was disgusting."
I squint and nod in understanding. Alazne continues.
"I couldn't control myself anymore and ran out of there while people stared at me. I got home and cried."
"What the fuck did he want?" I ask in a raspy voice.
"No idea. I couldn't understand his language."
"Wonderful. Alazne, now that I have this well-built body with some muscles, it's not just for keeping you warm in bed, but also for tearing apart anyone who bothers you." I feel my hands balling into fists. "If you see him again, point him out for me. He will feel the pain of a thousand deaths."
The waitress comes back with our coffees, and one look at my angry face makes her stop in her tracks. I force myself to relax as I take a deep breath. I avoid looking into the waitress' eyes, though, as I am embarrassed. I don't recall getting this mad back when I inhabited my original female body, the little I remember after twenty years as a ghost. Is the testosterone speaking through me?
"Thank you," Alazne says, and she pays for both coffees before I can think of objecting to it.
After the waitress leaves again, I purse my lips as I look at the cup of coffee in front of me. I should calm myself down before touching it.
Alazne puts her hand on mine, and strokes it. Her warmth relaxes me as if I were a wild beast to which she was singing.
"I shouldn't have mentioned that," she says softly. "Obviously it was going to bother you."
"I am a bit out of shape in controlling my anger."
"I'm sorry."
I recall my shameful diarrhea incident, and that for a split second I had wanted to crush that Oleksiy's face until no discernible facial feature remained.
"Don't be. I just didn't expect I would get this angry again so soon."
Alazne looks at me curiously, but I want to bite my tongue. Thankfully she accepts that I don't want to talk about it, and she allows me to drink a bit of my warm coffee.
After Alazne sips her own beverage, she speaks camly.
"Remember that during our marvellous first date to the amusement park, you mentioned that you had travelled around quite a bit?"
I clear my throat. Is it lying time? It looks like lying time.
"I guess I did, yeah..."
"Please, tell me some of the stories. I always wished to travel, but it's hard when I can barely leave my house due to the anxiety. Not to mention that I've never had the money."
"That's a shame. You're missing out on so much."
I want to kick myself for saying that. Not only I must have made her more curious about my experiences, but it's silly for me to say so: after my first years as a ghost travelling throughout Europe, the experiences ended up feeling so stale and pointless that I never left Spain again.
Alazne rubs my hand slowly with her thumb. She doesn't need to tell me how much she cares for me already: I can see it in her eyes. And yet I'll have to deceive her over and over.
"Hopefully you can share some of your experiences," Alazne says. "I don't doubt you've seen plenty of the world."
"Well, I suppose I have. I once met Charles Dickens..."
Damn it, that's not believable. I purse my lips, then smile and scratch my nape like a mischievous child.
"I totally made that up. There's no way I'd meet someone as famous as that, even if his ghost still wandered around. I once saw a seven-year-old get bullied by some teenagers, though. That was pretty awful."
Alazne giggles.
"I meant your experiences travelling, you idiot!"
"Ah, those. Yeah, I guess I did. A lot of them are pretty mundane, but I guess they can get pretty exciting as well."
"Tell me about some of them."
I go into a story about an avalanche I skied on once. This leads to a story about a drunken party on a train in China that the other passengers didn't know was happening, and from there I go into a story about how I smuggled home a baby monkey in my backpack. Alazne keeps laughing.
"Alright, now how about you tell me some true stories?" she asks.
I try to contain my nervousness. I did visit every country in Europe, but I happened to be a ghost back then, so none of the ways I reached those countries nor how I entered many of the buildings where I had the most interesting experiences will make any sense. My ghost powers allowed me to pass through walls, walk along the bottom of lakes and swim through the ground. On top of all that, my memory is hazy about many events. I'm fucked.
"Alright... Hmm..."
Desperately, I try to rack my brain for any story that's halfway believable. I feel a headache coming as I furiously search through old, dust-covered memories that haven't been accessed in many years. After about a minute of searching, I give up.
"I can't do it," I admit. "All of my experiences are so outlandish that I can't come up with anything that seems remotely believable."
Alazne is even more intrigued.
"Did you have one of those wild youths in which you grabbed a backpack and just travelled through different countries?"
"Well... I guess that's close to accurate. I spent from 2003 until 2008 or so abroad. I did get on trains, buses, taxis, and similarly useful vehicles to reach further destinations."
"I thought you had travelled around for a few months at the most! You spent years? Where did you go?"
"Well, I visited many different places in Europe. I started in France, and travelled to places like Monaco, Vatican City, Germany, Ireland and many more. Basically anywhere I could physically move to, even if I had to get on a plane or a boat."
Alazne is looking at me with different eyes now, proud but also a bit intimidated, as if my revelation had hurt her self-esteem.
"Wow! What's it like there?"
"There's a lot of history. Many, many people. Lives that had started without me having any say in them, and that I became disconnected from entirely once I chose to walk away."
"Did you do it for fun?"
I wring my hands, and then I regret that I have lost myself browsing through the faded memories of those years. I take a gulp of my coffee.
"It wasn't about that. I wanted to see new places and try new things. I needed to learn more about myself, my condition, and about others with my same problems. I feared... that if I stayed back home, I would surrender to despair like most around me, or go insane."
"So, did you?"
I was going to ask which one of my previous sentences her question refers to, but I stop myself. I'm opening up too much.
"Ah... I learned about many kinds of insanity. For example, I spent some time in Switzerland with a reclusive guy who did little else than listen to music. Lorenzo was his name. Quite a few of the songs you got to hear during our date to Monte Igueldo I learned about through him."
Alazne looks to the side as if imagining a scene, and when she holds my gaze again, she's frowning slightly.
"What was wrong with him?"
"He was afraid of people. He felt safer in his house."
"That doesn't sound so bad. Why did he need your help?"
He may have needed my help, but he didn't even know I existed. I shake my head.
"He didn't. He was too far gone. One day I came back to his place and he had cut his wrists. That was that."
Alazne's eyes tremble as she stares at me. She swallows. I take a deep breath and wait in case she wants to comment on it, but she doesn't. I shrug.
"By the time his parents saw his body, they didn't recognize him anymore. I can't help but think they wouldn't have been able to recognize their son even if he were still alive. Did you know that they threw away his music? That was the worst for me, somehow. The only thing that had brought the guy some joy, and his parents discarded it like nothing. Didn't even bother listening through the stuff that had been keeping him alive until then."
Alazne's eyes quiver, and she frowns.
"That's really sad," she says in a low voice.
I nod.
"In time I've learned to let go of the past. It doesn't serve any purpose other than to weigh you down."
It's easier said than done, though. During my travels, when I wasn't doing previously impossible things like sleeping in the forest by my ghostly self during a storm, looking at junk at the bottom of rivers and lakes, jumping off rooftops, and a fuckton of spying on random people's houses, I felt drawn to misery, which seemed to be the only domain that I truly belonged to anymore. When I wanted to rest for a few days or a week, I ended up running into some terminally depressed person, or hanging out with bored, cranky, miserable ghosts as long as they hadn't gone insane. Now I wish I could forget all of it. I wish I had been born the moment I woke up in Asier's body, that I had lost my memories as I keep assuring everyone, and I could face the future like the man I'm supposed to be. Instead of that, for every step I take I will keep dragging years and years of loneliness and nightmares, and lying to the face of the only person in this stupid world that I have ever loved.

My Own Desert Places, Pt. 13 (GPT-3 fueled short)

Link for this short on my personal page, where it looks better

---

For a few seconds I only hear the storm outside, its rain drops hitting the window. Then Alazne rests her guitar against the wardrobe, sits down on the edge of the bed and leans towards me, sinking a hand into the mattress next to my torso. She's smiling.
"Did you like it?"
I caress her cheek and then move a swaying lock of her light brown hair behind her ear.
"Let me tell you."
I sit up, and with a grappling maneuver I roll Alazne so she lies face up on the bed. Then I slide an arm behind her to cup the back of her head, and I kiss her mouth deeply. She responds in kind. I feel her heart beating harder through her chest.
She wraps both arms around my neck and we kiss for ages. I caress the warm skin of her back under her top, then I slide my fingers of that hand down until I get to fondle her left ass cheek under the loose fabric of her shorts.
She gently pushes me off and rolls me over so she's on top. Her hands go down to my belt. She unbuckles it. She unzips my pants and then starts pulling them down, revealing my blue and white boxers that are struggling to contain my erection. Alazne lets out a whimper of anticipation. I lift my hips to help her draw my pants down my legs and off, but after she strokes my penis through the thin fabric of my boxers for a moment, I grab her waist and maneuver so we both end up kneeling in front of the other on the mattress.
"That's no way for me to introduce you both," I say with pure animal hunger. "First off, let's take off that top of yours..."
I lean in and caress her back up to the nook between her shoulders and neck, then I trace an almost straight line down to the hem of her black top. There, I hook my fingers on it and slowly start drawing it up. She lifts her arms so I can take the top off her.
The light pink bra matches the color of her underwear and resembles the tone of her skin. Her nipples are hard. They look so delicious that I lean closer and lick one of them through the fabric. Alazne lets out a surprised squeal. She grabs my hair and, while pulling down that half of her bra with her index finger, makes me suck her nipple. She holds my head in place while I flick her small, warm nub of flesh with my tongue and give it a gentle nibble, then she pulls me up to kiss again. My mind is going blank, but I pull myself away to stand up next to the bed. A string of saliva remains connected to our lips for a couple of seconds.
As I straighten my back, I notice movement on the surface of the wardrobe. From inside a small, round frame hanged on the mahogany stares at me a man in his late thirties, whose face is slightly sweaty, who hasn't shaven for a few days and who ogles me lecherously. My heart stops, my body wants to go into a fighting stance. What the hell is that man doing in Alazne's bedroom?! Then I realize that I'm looking into Asier's startled eyes in a mirror.
I guess that in my mind I was picturing our lovemaking session differently. I wasn't a female ghost wearing a tall, well-built, already greying dead man's body as if I were commanding a titan. I was a muscle-bound Amazon, an alpha femme whose pelvis somehow supported a cock that wasn't so much a sexual organ as a weapon of mass destruction, its helmet head constantly leaking whitish nectar, and eager to tear through any innocent's pussy to shoot off her brain from inside with a nuclear burst of cum. But I guess me having a man's body works too. After all, Alazne always searched for older, big men who would handle her forcefully to save her from having to doubt and decide for herself. Even though I yearned for Alazne to venture into those intriguing advertisements of voluptuous, confident women with huge cocks, she never did.
When I look back down towards Alazne, whom I had committed the sacrilege of forgetting entirely, my cock throbs: she's kneeling right in front of me, her glassy eyes fixed on the bulge twenty centimeters in front of her, her hands caressing her thighs as if she could hardly wait to masturbate.
I hook the sides of my boxers and slowly unveil her gift. My girl cock springs to life, so close to Alazne's flushed face that if I came right now I would blind her. I put my fists on the sides of my waist and speak proudly.
"Gaze upon my futa co--... I mean, this manly monster. All hard and thick."
"Mmmm..." Alazne moans and opens her mouth wide with lust. My cock grows half a centimeter just by looking at her face.
Both her pupils and nostrils dilate as my girlfriend leans forward slowly and reaches with her hands to hold on to my waist, failing to realize that I had put my own hands there. I let her grab on to me. Alazne sticks her tongue out slowly towards my purplish cock head. A drop of saliva rolls down the tip of her tongue and elongates as it hangs, but excess saliva is also trickling from one side of her mouth.
I had only intended to show my girl cock to Alazne, to figure out if she shared my enthusiasm for this new superpower of mine. And I fear that I'm going to explode the moment her saliva wets it.
"Uhh... You don't need to..." I groan as her warm breath tickles my cock.
But Alazne continues to lean in until her tongue touches the tip of my dick. Her lips purse as if she's going to kiss, and then they wrap around the glans. Her mouth is like an oven, almost scalding hot.
I close my eyes and grimace in ecstasy as Alazne bobs her head. My legs are shivering. Shit, I'm going to come in seconds. How the hell do guys block themselves from orgasming?! I have trained myself to recognize and contract the different muscles that this miracle of nature contains, but it was a serious mistake for cocks to evolve without developing a shut-off valve. Still, if millions of years of evolution haven't provided one, that means that nature intended men to shoot their loads as soon as possible. I hope Alazne doesn't take it against me.
I try to keep my eyes open, even though everything looks bleached as if I had stared into the sun. The sounds return: Alazne is slurping while from her throat escape placid moans. I blink the whiteness away until I see Alazne's light brown hair bobbing up and down. I lower my hands to run my fingers lovingly through her soft hair. As it pertains to me lasting more, looking down at Alazne's expression was a mistake.
"A-ah..." escapes from my dry mouth, which feels anesthetized. "You are such a good girl, Alazne."
I feel Alazne's body shivering from her tailbone to her cervicals. When it reaches her mouth, her teeth grip my dick for a very long moment. Then Alazne takes a deep breath, her eyes roll back and she slides her right hand under the waistband of her shorts. Once her fingers make contact with her holy button, Alazne rubs it rhythmically in harmony with how she's guzzling my cock. Saliva keeps dripping from her chin.
I try to move back, but Alazne holds me in place by grabbing my ass. She must know what's going to happen to her mouth, or I hope she does, because I doubt I'm going to be able to stop it. Has even a minute passed?
"A-Alazne, you are giving me the time of my life, but..." I manage to say in a threadbare voice.
"Nnph!" Alazne moans in the back of her throat, exhaling a ruffled 'ah'.
"You're going to make me come... if you keep this up. But I want to fill your pussy first."
Alazne pops half of my dick out of her mouth, tilting her head so she can speak. Her pupils are unfocused and dilated as if she was drugged.
"Y-you want to put it in?"
"Oh God, yes."
Alazne draws her head back, and my cock slides out of her oven-hot mouth. My mighty phallus glistens as if greased. Exposing it to the ambient temperature of this stormy evening feels beyond wrong, and I almost plead for Alazne to take me in again.
I get lightheaded for a moment. When I regain my balance and look back up, Alazne is lying on her back with her head propped up on the pillow. She has taken off her shorts and moist panties at lightning speed and has thrown them beside her onto the unmade sheets. She has spread her legs, covered up to her knees by her pink socks with a cat motif, and with her fingers she's holding apart her drenched pussy lips to present the punch pink insides. Her vagina keeps leaking juices that are spreading a circle of wetness on the sheet. Her light brown pubes have grown towards her abdomen like a fuzzy lighting burn.
I have never seen such desire in someone's eyes, as if Alazne's life depended on getting filled with my cock. She offers me a drowsy smile while her skin from her upper lip to her chin shimmers under the electric lamp.
"I'm your precious little girl," Alazne says lewdly. "I need you deep inside me, daddy."
I was so lucky that I was unbuttoning my shirt instead of touching my dick, because the spasm that shakes the lower half of my body evidences that I would have shot big globs of cloudy cum all over the sheets. With Alazne's pussy already open for me, such a waste would have been unforgivable. And the sight of that throbbing little button and those lubricated lips are making me want to launch myself at them face first like a ravenous wolf. I have so much hunger built up from the myriad of instances as a ghost that I lied in bed next to my Alazne, or even kneeled on the floor under the bed so I could keep my incorporeal face real close to Alazne's lubricated fingers as she rubbed her clit and fingered herself, only for me to die over and over again out of frustration because my ghostly tongue could never reach her. Now I just want to eat that pussy out until I wear it down to her pelvic bone.
I'm about to communicate to Alazne my change of plans, but I notice that she's staring hungrily herself at my girl cock, which must have been leaking precum for a while. I can eat her out later, I guess. That's right, we are not pressed on time. Alazne is my girlfriend, we are going to fuck over and over in the coming days and weeks and months and years until our genitals shrivel up and fall off.
I climb onto the bed, kneeling so the underside of Alazne's thighs touches the top of mine. She lets out a yelp of delight. I can barely look in the direction of her pussy without feeling like I'm about to explode. I need to fill Alazne up like a human-shaped cream puff. If it depended on me, my girl would never be able to stand up without leaking cum.
I loathe having to use a condom, because it will prevent me from properly feeling Alazne's insides, but unfortunately male semen is toxic and it produces horrifying mutations in defenseless females. The world is cruel, and that's not changing anytime soon.
I lean on the mattress next to Alazne's bare waist so with my right hand I can pull out a condom from the back pocket of my pants. I rip the condom's wrapper with my teeth, then take the lubricated piece of latex out, which smells vaguely like a balloon. I start unrolling it over my length, although this is a challenge because of how rigid and pulsating it is.
"Nooo, no condom," Alazne says as if out of it.
"I assure you, my love, I would adore nothing more than to push my raw cock inside you and fill you up with as much semen as I can produce in a day. But if me inviting you to live with me on our first date, then declaring our love for each other before the second one isn't going fast enough, me impregnating you the first time we fuck probably would count as 'too fast'."
"True..."
I would say I'm happy that Alazne sees reason, but the look on her eyes suggests that there's nobody tending to the command module in her brain. I'm amazed that anyone remains in mine. I would love to lose myself entirely, and only regain my senses an hour or so from now, when I would realize that the white flood coming out of Alazne wasn't due to a horrifying infection, and that I would have to bother myself figuring out how to prevent a pregnancy. But that version of me wouldn't be the current one whose penis is rock-hard and who needs to shoot her load as soon as possible, so fuck that future version of me, theoretically.
I have already unrolled the condom to cover the entirety of my futa cock. I move up on the bed towards Alazne's flushed, drooling face, and rest my elbows below her armpits so I can slide my hands under her shoulders. She realizes that my mouth is close to hers, and she grabs the back of my head to plunge her tongue into my oral cavity.
I feel my glans touching her warm, slippery opening; a dulled sensation, thanks to the damned condom. Still, I'm going to have trouble lasting more than a few pumps before I burst inside the sex balloon. Back when I was a ghost and I got involved in sexual situations, usually because I walked through a wall into them, I took pride in how much I could last without coming, but then again I was only watching, I was a woman ghost so coming soon didn't matter, and also I wasn't physically able to come. It's such a shame. If Alazne came in a couple of seconds, I would be happy, and shortly after I would be working her up into a second orgasm, and a third, and so on.
Alazne crosses her legs over my ass and pulls me towards her. I oblige her, sliding the glans inside. There's a feeling of pressure on my cock before the walls of her vagina dilate to accept me. Fuck, it feels so good. I gently push my hips forwards, sliding more of my monster in. Her warmth and wetness threaten to make me lose my mind. I retract my hips until only my glans remains inside her opening, before I push again.
I'm so lost in sensations that I couldn't even tell that we are still playing with each other's tongue. I draw my head back. Alazne is lifting her hands slowly towards my nape as if to bring me closer, but with a couple of jerky movements I grasp her wrists and push them down onto the mattress to immobilize her arms over her head. Alazne blushes harder and lets out a moan.
I draw my hips back and then drive them forwards with a smacking noise, our waists touching as I bury my futa cock all the way inside my woman.
"Fuck!" Alazne wails.
Her breasts rock up and down with the motion of my stolen body. Her eyes are almost white, having rolled back, and an unending amount of drool keeps trickling out from both sides of her mouth. With the weight of this man-body holding her down, and my strong grasp restraining her, Alazne can barely move. She could resist, but it wouldn't change anything. She only needs to be take it in and let go.
Every backstroke keeps splashing her vaginal juices on the both of us. I lower my mouth to whisper in her ear.
"From now on you are fully mine, Alazne."
She shakes her head slowly. Her long hair is getting drenched in our sweat and her saliva. I recall plenty of moments like this playing on her monitor while she rubbed her clit frantically as her body shivered. A strong man restraining the actress, taking full possession of her entire being, and his thick cock pounding her so hard and deep that the woman didn't have to think nor feel anything but the waves of pleasure. Alazne came so hard with those.
"Even if you don't admit it, you are mine," I say, and prod the holes in her ear with my wet tongue.
Alazne's body gets closer to her peak. I possessed this disgusting man-corpse so I could make her fall in love with me. She will be mine, and she can't do anything about it. I am a ghost and she is not.
"I-I... I am yours," Alazne whimpers.
"You will be my sweet girl forever."
I quicken my strokes, and her thighs tremble. The most beautiful sound in the world is when a woman reaches her climax with my cock inside her; it's the sound of me winning. I have never used a cock to fuck anyone before, but I know this is true.
"Ah... Hm..." escapes from Alazne's mouth as her head rolls back and forth slightly.
"I'll take such good care of you. You'll get to fill your warm mouth and your pussy with this cock every day."
Alazne's toes curl inward, scratching the back of my thighs. The noises flowing out of her mouth no longer resemble words. I speed up even more, and my cock sinks all the way inside her. Her whole body trembles. Her pussy squeezes me tight as if it doesn't want to let go.
"This body is so dirty... so filthy... so nasty..." I keep muttering.
"I-I am yours," she repeats in a louder voice.
Alazne's spine arches as spasms shake her body and the walls of her vagina keep milking me. She throws her head back, and her mouth opens to release an intense cry. I hadn't noticed that she managed to free herself from my grip, because what remains of her bitten nails are now biting into my flesh. The pain is delightful.
I think I could tell she had already orgasmed, but her hands are clutching onto my shoulders as if she needs to keep herself from falling, and I continue my thrusts until I'm sure that the last spasm has faded away. I lose my concept of time. The next thing I know is that I'm filling the condom while my cock remains deep inside Alazne. My body shakes as a wave of heat flows through me.
Alazne is panting, and her eyes are closed. Her face glistens with sweat, saliva and tears.
I withdraw my cock from inside her. The pussy lips close slowly around my glans as if reluctant to let it go. I lean on the mattress with one trembling hand while with the other I start taking off my condom, but I'm out. I can't deal with that right now. I end up lying sideways next to Alazne, with my hand resting on her opposite breast, still covered by her pink bra, as if cupping it. I kiss her cheek softly, letting my lips linger.
"That was amazing," Alazne says in a low voice. "I never thought it could be like that."
I want to say something clever, but I can't. I feel as if all my grey matter was squeezed through my cock.
"As I moaned I didn't think for a moment about the neighbors," she adds. "Now they have something new to talk about."
"I doubt they have heard such joy in a long time," I say in a trembling voice. "They can die of envy if they want."
Alazne raises herself on one elbow, then she brushes her light brown hair away from her sweaty forehead. She's staring down at me with boundless love and trust, and for a split second I feel hollow.
"I love you, Asier," she says in a low, serious voice. "I love you, I love you, I love you."
Something cold wells up inside me, a solid entity. I raise myself to kiss Alazne's beautiful mouth, and I push her gently onto the bed so we can keep making out without a worry in the world.
We lie on the bed, holding on to each other's warmth and drinking each other's saliva, forgetting about the passing seconds. The rain lashes against the window as the wind pushes it, and from time to time distant thunder rumbles. After we stop kissing, we remain curled up against each other like cats in the sun, while observing the details of each other's eyes.
"I can't believe you exist, Alazne," comes out of my mouth.
"The whole time I was growing inside my mother's belly I thought that, Asier," Alazne whispers slowly. "For nine months I watched her drink alcohol, smoke and eat all the things she wasn't supposed to. I thought, why would I keep growing? To what end? And even after I was born, I couldn't understand."
A warm tear rolls across my temple. Alazne takes a deep breath, then she moves a few strands of hair away from my face. Her fingers are warm against my skin.
"But then I got old enough and things became clearer," she continues. "Now I'm here, lying in your arms. All is good. Have you thought about that? About why you were born?"
"I'm a ghost in the machine. A bug in the system. An anomaly. What was the point of me?"
I hold Alazne's sad gaze.
"The point was you met me," she whispers.
I plant a kiss on her lips, and lie down on my back next to her. She imitates me. We stare at the ceiling as the sound of the rain quenches our thirst for auditory stimulation. I've had enough of feeling the inside of a soggy, wrinkly condom, so I pull it off. I end up spilling semen on my lower abdomen. I tie the condom in a knot and throw it aside. No idea where it landed.
Maybe a minute later, I open my mouth to speak.
"What are you thinking about?"
"I'm thinking about my dad, and how he died scared."
My throat tightens.
"You often think about that, don't you?"
"Yeah, but it's fine now. I forgave him a long time ago." She doesn't talk for a few seconds. After she sniffles, her voice comes as if she has turned her head towards me. "Were you scared when you crashed your car? You lost consciousness, right?"
"I lost consciousness, yes."
"What were you thinking about right before you passed out?"
I take a deep breath.
"I didn't have time to think. It happened too quickly. I didn't see it coming."
"But did you feel an inkling of anything? Like, how your mind was preparing itself for death?"
My eyes are affixed to a long crack in the ceiling.
"No, nothing. One moment I was following the road, the next one I woke up in the hospital pumped full of drugs."
"That's good. If you felt any inkling of fear, then it means you're not as strong as me."
I turn my head to see Alazne's face. She has stopped crying, and turns to face me as well. I smile at her. She smiles back. I grab her by the sides and pull her into an embrace.

Around eight in the evening, Alazne's stomach had already growled a couple of times, but we couldn't justify to ourselves breaking away from our warm bed and each other's touch. I was going to have my dinner anyway, though, and after I licked the insides of her bellybutton for a while, I kissed my way down to her pubes. I loved that smell of stale sweat and dry pussy juices. It was honest.
Alazne, as she giggled excitedly, propped her shoulders up with pillows and rested the back of her thighs on my shoulders. I stared at her beautiful, glistening slit in anticipation. Without realizing, I ended up drooling onto the sheets. I lowered my face towards her warm entrance and I gently flicked my tongue against her labia. Alazne let out a long, slow sigh.
I don't know nor care how much I've been licking along her labia or holding her throbbing clit between my lips as I rub it with my wet tongue. Alazne keeps petting my hair in a trance. From time to time she shivers and moans softly.
When her thighs tremble continuously against my ears I know she's close to finishing, so I push my index and middle fingers inside her. Her pussy responds with contractions that grip on my fingers tightly. My mouth waters as the scent of her arousal fills the bedroom. The taste of her honey and muskiness is so appetizing, I feel like I could lick her out for hours on end.
After Alazne lets out her final, long sigh, she puts her hand gently on my forehead to let me know she's done for now. My jaw aches from the long session of grinding, but I couldn't be happier. I kiss her thigh a few times before I rest my face on it as if it were a pillow, and neither of us speaks.
It's raining harder although the thunder stopped a while ago, but I welcome the nasty weather, as it reminds me that Alazne and I can keep each other warm inside. It would be nice if it never stopped raining, and we never had to do anything else but lie around on her bed.

Alazne opens her fridge as if she didn't know what she was going to find inside. Even back when I lived here as a ghost, her fridge tended to remain half empty, and some of the stuff I would have liked to eat, although back then I wished I could eat anything at all, had gone past its expiration date.
"This is embarrassing..." Alazne says.
"What would you have eaten for dinner normally?"
"Well... I can do with a glass of milk, some bread and butter, or a few pieces of fruit. Many nights I don't eat anything at all."
This should be the moment when I pick up a few ingredients and I end up whiping out a meal that would amaze Alazne with how great of a cook and how responsible I am, but that can't happen. I was a ghost until recently, and I have survived on ready-made food. To be honest, I'm not even sure if I ever boiled water, let alone cook anything. I was dead for too long.
Alazne rubs my shoulder while she looks up at me with those big, hazel eyes, which couldn't seem now more apologetic.
"I asked you to come to my place, and you took such good care of me, but I don't even have anything to feed you. I'm the worst."
"Sweetie, you took fantastic care of me, I assure you." I let out a gasp. "Also, I just remembered that I have the power of money! I'll look up some pizza or Chinese place. Or whatever kind of place you want!"

Around twenty minutes later we finally push away the chair in front of Alazne's computer and we sit on the edge of her bed. Each of us is holding a warm cup of noodles from the Chinese restaurant. I reach towards the computer mouse to open this week's episode's folder from uTorrent, and then I play the video file on VLC. When I lean back, Alazne touches the side of my head with hers, then digs into her noodles.
"Let's see what they fuck us up with this week," I say as I stir my noodles. "The last one wasn't so much a cliffhanger as just sadness."
"Well..." Alazne begins playfully. "Maybe they'll start explaining how the hell they spent the last few years in the island."
The episode starts by pulling the audience back into an extended flashback. I know what's going to happen not only in this episode but in all the remaining, and so does Alazne. She bought the volumes translated to Spanish, but when I was a ghost I also read over her shoulder the fan translations to English, that tend to come up shortly after each chapter gets released in Japan. Still, Alazne and I keep putting on a show of our own. I guess that human beings come built with a fundamental ability that is the main reason why we didn't crumble away into oblivion long, long ago as a species: we can appreciate individual moments as they come, even though we know how everything ends.

My Own Desert Places, Pt. 12 (GPT-3 fueled short)

Link for this short on my personal blog, where it looks better

---

After that Oleksiy punk left on his Toyota 4Runner, I probably should have wandered away for a while, because my gated community is far too close to the narrow street where Oleksiy confronted me. However, the punch in my guts had done a number on my intestines. I struggle towards my house as fast as possible while clenching my asshole. Any wrong movement threatens to shoot all the contents of my bowels so they fill my underwear and roll down my legs. As if trying to avoid shitting myself wasn't enough, I'm holding an umbrella with my left hand while with the right I'm punching in my phone a reply to Alazne's text. By sending me that delicious sexual invitation via her bare midriff and her wet fingers, Alazne had opened up about her needs far more than I would have expected just after our first date. And I also can't simply call her: Alazne won't want to speak in her current state, flushed and in an erotic trance. That's assuming that she's still touching herself after I left her hanging to take care of that Eastern European dickhead.
I write back to Alazne, I'm so sorry that I didn't reply to you immediately. Some weird guy accosted me thinking I was someone else.
Don't worry. Are you okay?, she replies.
My angel, worried about my well-being above her horniness.
I'm fine, I text back. And now I'll text you what I wanted to as soon as I looked at that picture: if you show me something so delicious, the next time I see you I'm going to eat you up.
Alazne must have looked through some options, because about ten seconds later I receive an animated emoji of a blushing face and a few hearts that orbit around it. Shortly after she writes, Please come over to my place today.
I'm already passing in front of the graveyard adjoined to Asier's gated community. My guts are churning and burning, and I want to spare myself the memory of shitting myself in the street. I would have to push that moment out of my mind whenever I looked at my beloved. Still, I focus on replying to Alazne's message with I will be there around six and a half. I hope you are ready.
Can't wait. I'll be thinking of you, Alazne replies.
I finally enter my gated community, and then I scamper towards my house while I shiver. My sweat has turned colder than the rainwater. I might be imagining it, but I think I smell the stench as my asshole struggles to hold my breakfast and lunch in. When I open the front door of my house, I throw the soaked umbrella onto the floor, push the door close with my back, and then I run to the nearest bathroom. I lift the toilet seat, pull down my pants and my underwear with jerky movements, and as soon as I sit down and relax my asshole, it spasms and shoots out a load of hot, watery shit that plasters the inside of the bowl. Then my ass explodes again. I cry out loud as it burns and itches terribly while cold sweat gets in my eyes.
As my asshole keeps spasming and shitting, I groan and breathe heavily. About a minute later, it's finally over. I pull my pants up with shaky hands and walk out of the bathroom. I'm very dizzy and weak, so I have to lean against the walls as I shuffle to the kitchen to get a mop and a bucket. I don't recall having cried while cleaning before.
When I enter the kitchen, I feel Kateryna's invisible presence staring at me from the dining table, next to her ouija board. I don't want to talk about the disaster, but she moves the planchette to communicate with me. I can't leave her hanging.
WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, the planchette spells out.
"I had a bit of an accident," I reply, struggling to keep my breathing normal. "An accident caused by some Eastern European prick punching my guts in."
I sigh heavily. I approach the sink and use it to prop myself up. I rest my elbows on the edge as I grip my hair with my hands, almost in a hugging manner. I wish that Kateryna gets the message and lets me wallow in shame for a while, but my ghost roommate pushes down the call bell a couple of times. I turn towards the ouija board.
The planchette spells out PLEASE EXPLAIN.
"There's nothing to explain, Kat," I say in a hollow voice. "It seems that we live in a world where random Eastern European thugs accost people for no reason, and even go as far as stopping traffic to get out of their cars and wreck an innocent person's intestines. What kind of society are we leaving to our kids?"
I move closer to the ouija board and let my fingers glide over the planchette.
"Don't you sometimes just feel like going outside with a shotgun and... and ventilating every asshole you see? These dickheads shouldn't be allowed to walk free, Kat. They fucking punch random people in the guts just because they're having a bad day. If I had my way, I would..."
I stop talking, because I feel the tears coming. That bastard assaulted me, an innocent, harmless girl. I can't believe such demons are allowed to roam around.
PLEASE DONT CRY MY BABY, the planchette spells out.
I wipe my eyes, then take a deep breath.
"Don't worry, Kat. I have already emptied my bowels. Probably scraped the inside lining as well. Now all that matters is getting back in the mood to have sex."
GO LOOK AT MY PHOTOS, the planchette spells out.
I'm touched, and I raise my hand to my heart.
"My needs have made you uneasy as of late, yet you still suggest me to masturbate while ogling your perfect features! You are an angel, Kateryna. This world doesn't deserve you. But that wasn't what I meant."
I take out my phone and rescue my recent conversation with Alazne so I can show it to my ghost roommate. I hope Kateryna is looking from the direction at which I'm pointing my screen.
"See? My Alazne is horny and needs me inside her. So don't wait for me, because I'll spend the night holding the love of my life in my manly arms."
The planchette remains still for a few seconds. Maybe my roommate is despairing because she can't love anybody, while I'm so lucky that someone as perfect as Alazne has become my girlfriend.
CAN ONLY WAIT, the planchette spells out.
I lower my phone a little.
"Huh?"
CANT SLEEP.
A sudden pang of pity makes me hunch over. I swallow my stale saliva.
"My poor Kat. I shouldn't have reminded you of your predicament. Please, tell me which movies you want me to queue on VLC. All of them will look amazing in the new monitor."
CANT WAIT TO BE ENTERD IN HEVENLY PARADISE, the planchette spells out.
I sit down heavily on the nearest chair, then rub my eyes. Nothing is going to stop me from ravaging my Alazne tonight, and yet I'll have to abandon my roommate in despair.
"Everything is shit, Kateryna," I mutter. "You are right about that."

A warm shower rinsed most of my shame away, as well as whatever residues remained of my ass explosion. The moment I got out of the shower I grabbed my phone from the sink and called a taxi. I wouldn't bother with walking to the nearest bus stop that would take me to Irún, and then getting on another bus to reach Belaskoenea. Rich people shouldn't have to suffer such inconveniences.
As I stand in front of the fogged mirror, that thankfully conceals the view of my man-torso with all that hair and lack of proper breasts, I dry myself with a towel and consider how this stupid day is going to end up: I will join my goddess in holy communion by letting her hungry insides wrap themselves around my rock-hard monster. I need to have more confidence in myself and in the body I'm presenting to the world. After all, this body will keep Alazne warm and safe in its hairy arms.
I wipe the steam from the bathroom mirror and take a good look into Asier's eyes, that stare back at me. I would have never thought I would come to feel sympathy for that clown, but then again he is me now, isn't he?
I spray lavender-scented deodorant under my armpits, then brush my teeth in a hurry. My heart is beating hard, but more due to anxiety than of anticipation. That fucking Oleksiy turd ruined my day, and could potentially turn my first night together with Alazne into a disaster. I need to pump myself up. I bring up Alazne's sexy picture on my phone, then stare at her bare midriff, at those anointed fingers.
"My love, tonight I'm going to make you fully mine like a man does, by stretching out slightly his girl's vagina according to the particular dimensions of the man's penis."
Those curves in Alazne's midriff are making me salivate, and my penis finally twitches. I pass the phone to my left hand and allow my right to come to my penis' aid. It's back to life, and pushing against my palm and my fingers as it grows to fill as much space as possible. My pet monster has acknowledged his responsibility.
Thankfully this Asier prick wanted to see as much of his cheating self as he could, because he bought a huge bathroom mirror. As I hold my hard penis, I study its reflection. It's thick enough that I can't close my hand around it, and if I slide my fingers along it until the pinky touches the base, my hand only hides half of the full penis. Its head is bulbous but tight, with a pleasant purplish-red color now that it's filling up with blood. Stroking this girl dick feels so good that I've spent plenty of time in this house with my pants down and touching myself as I performed any activity, especially in the beginning, when I would feel feverish and needed to alleviate the aches of my transformation into a man.
In less than two hours, this monstrous seed-spewing device of mine will be thrusting into Alazne's pale, freckled, delicate body, and her hot insides will milk my monster eagerly until it explodes.
My mind is going blank as I lean against the sink and keep stroking myself. My heartbeats feel as if I'm risking a heart attack. I will get used to having a dick. The rest of men's bodies disgusts me, but the power inherent to a cock aligns better with my nature as a conqueror. Feeling women squirming in my strong arms while my monster ravages their insides, that's the only reason to live. And because I retain my female mind, Asier's well-built, powerful man-body has lost its only weakness. I may be the first true futa in this retarded planet.
My legs feel weak, my knees threaten to buckle under me.... Will I be able to shoot my load before the taxi arrives? I have to dress myself and everything. Wait a second, why the hell am I jerking off right now? Wasn't I preparing myself to head to Alazne's house so I can fuck her for the first time?
Although the man-brain that remains in this body curses me for it, I take my hand off my penis. I rest my forearms on the sink and take deep breaths as my penis aches for more contact. I wash my face with cold water. Calm down, Irene. You did the right thing. You were about to commit a sacrilege, because the jerk off times are over. Alazne is eager to welcome me sexually, so from now on every ounce of semen that this stolen body produces is going to end up splattering her skin or her face, or filling her mouth or her womb. Or in a condom, I suppose... If Alazne suggests ass stuff, though, I will resist, because that's just nasty.
Unfortunately, this sudden decision of mine only brought more elaborate imagery to my mind. I close my eyes and take deep breaths to calm down.
After I return to my bedroom and lay my clothes on the bed to dress myself, I realize what a service I'm going to procure to my Alazne as her devoted boyfriend. Alazne masturbates so much because it kidnaps her from the abusive relationship that her depression forced upon her. For the very short time that the orgasm's flower of pleasure-inducing chemicals blossoms in one's brain... No, that's too lyrical. My point is that an orgasm whites out everything in a brain except for the pleasure of coming. That's more like it. So it follows that if I could make Alazne come over and over, with the next orgasm overlapping the last throes of the previous one, there would be no pain, no depression. My job as Alazne's girlfriend slash boyfriend is to make her orgasm as often as possible.

Once the helpful taxi driver leaves me right next to Alazne's apartment building in Belaskoenea, I am careful to open my umbrella to protect myself against the downpour. I don't want to show up in front of her as drenched as a stray dog. Also, I don't like one bit how dark the late afternoon has gotten; only the brightest of suns should have accompanied today the blessed act that Alazne and I are going to perform in her bed.
Along the way here I texted Alazne to let her prepare herself, because I would arrive in a short while. She added that she lived in the third floor and apartment D. I guess she forgot that I buzzed her apartment for our first date.
Lightning strikes and thunder rumbles with menacing indifference to my plight. I press the button to Alazne's apartment. She buzzes me in silently. I take the elevator, and as it moves up I concentrate my remaining anxiety in my fists. I'm a tough man. Back when I was a girl, I deflowered plenty of innocent ladies. That now I'm going to use untested equipment makes no difference. Thankfully I don't risk crossing the streams with anybody.
I step out of the elevator onto the third floor. The old light bulbs lighting the two apartment doors make it feel as if I have stepped back in time into the seventies. And even if I didn't know Alazne's apartment letter, I'm already overwhelmed by an aura of depression that I can trace back to my queen's apartment door. She must have been looking through the peephole, because she opens the door to welcome me.
When Alazne appears in front of me, my heart nearly bursts. Her light brown hair is loose, framing her pale, freckled face. Her sad, hazel eyes are glassy, and look up at me as if pleading. Her cheeks are flushed. There are traces of dried saliva near the edges of her mouth. She's wearing a black top with the Wings of Freedom logo over her heart as well as on the short sleeves, and the top exposes her midriff, the sight of which turns up my production of saliva. She's wearing grey pyjama shorts which must hide those pink cotton panties that her photo hinted at. For some reason Alazne also put on pink knee-high socks with cat faces all over them, but I won't complain, as they only make me breathe harder.
I can tell by Alazne's hesitant smile that she's embarrassed. She took her alluring pic during her masturbation session, when the entire world beyond anything related to her pleasure had ceased to exist, but she still had extended a hand towards me, as her subconscious had understood that I would join her gladly. However, that Oleksiy thug had failed to read the mood, so I couldn't reply to Alazne's offering soon enough. Now my girlfriend, who I suppose has stopped masturbating for at least an hour, wonders whether I came because I felt obligated. Maybe she feared I would consider her a loon for having sent me a sexual proposition for our second date, even though I had accepted her pleading wish that I would take care of her forever.
I step into her apartment, making Alazne step back so I can close her apartment door, and then I turn towards her, hold her by the bare, warm skin of her lower back and bend over to taste her wet mouth. I reach down to her butt, barely covered by her shorts, and touch the cleft between her cheeks. She feels warm and inviting. My dick is already growing against my boxers. I put my other hand on the soft skin of her abdomen and caress it slowly as I tangle her tongue with mine. She tastes like strawberry toothpaste. I take a deep whiff of Alazne's smell: stale sweat, what little remains of yesterday's deodorant, a hint of pussy juices mixed with soap. My mouth is flooding, and I feel a pang of hunger that only Alazne's body can satiate.
After we stop kissing, Alazne keeps her arms crossed behind my head. Her eyes are glistening.
"I-I thought I had been too forward..."
I lick the saliva that had leaked from her mouth.
"You thought of me while you played with yourself to forget this horrible world. I couldn't feel more blessed."
She laughs and squeezes me tightly. I hug her back. I touch her ear with my lips, and I whisper into it.
"You know what you need, and I will take good care of you."
I kiss along her neck, then move down to her clavicles. I bite one of them. Her body tenses up and a moan of delight escapes her lips. I would have fucked her right there and then, but she breaks the embrace. However, she keeps holding my hand.
"L-let me show you around," she says shily, unable to look me in the eyes, even though her smile is as pleasant as they come.
Her rented apartment is cramped and old. Most of the furniture is made of mahogany, and the majority of the shelves are empty as if the previous owners took every object with them except for the furniture, which was too cumbersome or mostly worthless. The sofa is worn out and covered in cat scratches. I have never seen a cat in this apartment, but maybe Alazne had a precious pet and lost it, so I won't bring it up.
"Looks like shit, doesn't it?" Alazne says with a smile. "I found out that the previous owner, an old woman, died right there on the sofa. I wouldn't be surprised if she were still around, or if this apartment simply doesn't heat up properly."
I want to avoid seeming silly, so I contain behind a manly expression how happy I am that I finally get to experience Alazne's apartment without it feeling colorless, tasteless and odorless thanks to that faded filter that the afterlife applies to everything. And Alazne's warm, slightly sweaty hand feels heavenly in mine. I want to fuck her so bad.
"Ah..." I start, but I end up swallowing to compose myself. "Wait, you say that the ghost of that old broad might still be here?"
Alazne smirks.
"Yeah. She's mean, too. She threw my brand new glasses out of the window when I was leaning in to get some fresh air. No, I'm kidding, that was me being careless, as usual."
"If the woman remained as a ghost, you would experience much more ghostly stuff than that, for sure. Footsteps, whispers, maybe objects flying around, sleep paralysis, and if you were particularly unlucky, some opportunist ghost might possess your body to touch you all over. I know I would have been beyond tempted."
"You seem well versed in ghost stuff. You keep surprising me with the things you are into."
"Yeah," I say in a low, hungry voice. "If I were a horny ghost, I'd go after you, with or without your permission."
"Hm... So I wouldn't be able to resist you as you caressed me...?"
"That's right. I would do with your beautiful body whatever I wanted."
Alazne blushes, then moves closer to me so she can rest her face on my chest. I put my hands on her bare lower back, and then slide them under her shirt. I prod the wings of her bra.
Back when I haunted Alazne's apartment, I was the only other ghostly inhabitant, so that old woman must have either moved on to the beyond or fucked off somewhere else, whether because she wanted to explore the world or because she preferred to leave Alazne in peace. Whatever the case, I couldn't be more grateful. Thank you, nameless old woman. I hope the afterlife is treating you better than it did most of the boring, hopeless souls I came across.
After Alazne and I kiss for a bit, she guides me further into her apartment through the narrow hallway. Hanging on the walls there are black and white photos of the city, and of the neighboring Hondarribia, as they must have been in the thirties and forties.
"That's the bathroom." Alazne points towards a half open door. "The cistern barely works, and often I need to move the mechanism around, as well as the lid, so it fills up again. And it's better if you flush a few times while you are taking a shit, because clogging is an issue. I think I heard some neighbors say that it's a problem with the sewer line, or something."
"Hm. Okay."
We move from the hallway into the kitchen, a small room with barely any furniture save for a table and two chairs. The fridge is relatively new; she must have bought it in the last three years. But a toaster, a mixer and other appliances have gathered dust on a shelf. I know that Alazne doesn't bother cooking complicated stuff, and if she can get away with it she'll heat up premade food, or remain hungry when she's depressed enough. A bunch of boxes have piled up in a corner. Alazne doesn't care much about clutter, but most of the stuff she buys she eats, are clothes, or exist as ones and zeros in her computer.
"That's where we... w-we will eat breakfast together tomorrow..."
That's my Alazne's way of asking, 'please, stay with me after you fuck me'. I run my fingers through the loose hair near her nape.
"I'm sure breakfast will taste so good after having you sleeping in my arms."
Alazne shivers, then turns towards the hallway.
"R-right. Then... there is the bedroom," Alazne says in a desirous tone.
The walls are painted a soothing blue. The best part of the room is the unmade, queen size bed, with a pearl-white, floral bedding set. The bed takes up most of the room, and it even goes into a gap in the mahogany wardrobe that covers that entire wall. Next to the bed there's a nightstand with all sorts of things on it: a lamp, her phone, a glass of water, guitar picks and a capo, various pill bottles with the labels torn off... The small desk where Alazne set up her cheap PC is so close to the side of the bed closest to the window, as well as to a radiator, that once you sit in front of it you can barely move.
I have finally reached paradise. I will spend all of eternity in this bedroom.
Alazne lets go of my hand, turns her back on me and stands up next to the bed.
"So... what do you think?" she asks in a thin, anxious voice. "Pretty sad, huh...?"
I ogle her light brown hair that reaches the middle of her back, her soft butt barely covered by the shorts, those succulent thighs, and the way her knee-high socks hug her calves. I feel the pulse in my dick, and it's getting harder for me to breathe. I step closer to Alazne and put my hands on her shoulders.
A big, well-built man who wants her bad, and she the small, lightly clothed woman who is too shy to ask for what she yearns. She has replayed scenes like this on her computer while her thighs trembled. And now, the woman who has longed to feel desired and sexually needed has that chance. She doesn't feel like she deserves it, but she'll take it eagerly.
I hug Alazne from behind, pressing my body against hers. With my right hand I tilt her head and hold it to grant me access to her neck, and I kiss and lick her skin upward until I get to suck on her ear. With my left hand, I caress her abdomen and focus on digging into her bellybutton.
"I'm scared..." she whispers in a quavering voice.
Alazne lets out a sigh of delight as she presses her butt against my erection. She raises one hand to my face and strokes it while I nibble on her earlobe. 'I'm scared,' the actress said. The muscled, well-hung man who restrained her delicate body would whisper in her ear that she had nothing to fear, that he would take care of her.
"Don't be. You can trust me." I reply as my left hand wanders lower to dive under the hem of her shorts and panties. "From now on you will be fully mine. You will feel me deep inside you, I will lick your clit until you come in my mouth, and when you can't take it anymore, you will sleep in my manly arms, which will keep you warm and safe."
"T-that... Hmm... Sounds so good..."
When I open my eyes, my gaze falls on her computer monitor. Alazne has left uTorrent open. Most of the entries have Japanese titles and episode numbers, and I even recognize the one for yesterday's episode of 'Attack on Titan', but around half of the entries either seeding or downloading are porn videos. This woman... Now it truly makes no sense that she used incognito mode to browse PornHub, back when I was a ghost looking over her shoulder.
I cross my arms over her breasts to bring her closer in a tight hug as Alazne's butt trembles against my dick. I speak softly into her ear canal.
"You've been a bad girl, Alazne. You haven't opened up about what you love the most."
Her eyeballs roll towards me, although they are so glassy that for a moment I consider whether she would listen to anything at this point. But she turns enough to kiss me on the lips, then asks me:
"W-what do you mean?"
"Those guitar picks, the capo, the calluses on your fingertips... You may not afford to pay for the classes, but that hasn't stopped you, has it?"
Tears form in the rims of her eyes.
"I keep telling myself I'll give it up, because the daydreams hurt me, but I don't. I want so much to play... B-but I'm too fucking scared to go outside, so I just s-stayed here instead..."
Oh no, she's turning incoherent. I bring two fingers to her lips and silence them. She closes her eyes and licks my fingers slowly, coating them in saliva, while she rubs her ass against my erection. I shiver. To be honest, I'm losing it myself. I clear my throat subtly.
"Show me, Alazne. I won't fill you up with this monster until you show me what you truly love."
"Y-you want me to play the guitar...?"
"That's what has kept you alive so far, isn't it?"
She closes her eyes and remains still for a moment, but then she turns around and hugs me tightly. Her love oozes out of her body.
"It's the only thing I wanted, before I met you... Just play songs, even if those songs belonged to others. Nothing else felt right."
She's self-taught and she doesn't quite know how to play properly, but back when I lived here without her knowledge, I had never heard anything so beautiful in my strange existence. She committed herself to every note as if her life depended on it, and I guess it did.
I pull back from the embrace, and I smile at her as I stroke her cheek.
"Play a song for me. We have all night for making love."
Although her face is flushed from horniness, she grins like a teenager and walks on the bed until she reaches a tall vertical door on her wardrobe. When she opens the door and tries to pull the guitar bag out, something falls to the floor. It's a worn, stained sheet, with a knot tied on one end to make a noose. Alazne drops the guitar bag, which falls backward until it rests against the wall, and stares down at the noose. My girlfriend's face has gone white. Although she tries to force herself to look into my eyes, her gaze merely raises for a moment from the floor before she gives up. Her shoulders droop.
I cup her head and bring her closer, to kiss her on the temple.
"Don't worry about it."
"I-I wanted to die... B-but I didn't have the courage. Still, I hoped that eventually I would succeed... Then I met you, and you told me that you love me. I decided to keep living, for your sake."
"You don't need to keep living for my sake. I want you to keep going because eventually you'll want to remain alive no matter what."
I pick up the noose and then throw it into the wardrobe. I close the door.
"I don't think you'll use it again."
A few tears roll down Alazne's cheeks as she wrings her hands in front of her shorts.
"I won't."
I grab the guitar bag and place it at the foot of the bed. Alazne snaps out of it. She sits on the edge of the bed and takes out her instrument. It's a cheap round shoulder acoustic. Alazne rests it across her right thigh as carefully and lovingly as she would a child. She caresses the strings with her fingers as she finds a comfortable pose.
I place the chair close enough that I will be able to look at Alazne from the front. Then I sit down and lean forward.
"W-what do you want me to play?" she asks shily.
"Whatever you feel like playing."
She nods, then starts tuning her strings. She bites her lower lip as she focuses, and I smile as I watch her cute face. Then, when the strings are all set, she starts to play. I recognize the three starting notes, mainly because I have heard her play this song many times. It's a custom rendition of Explosions In The Sky's 'Your Hand in Mine'. Unfortunately, almost as soon as she hits the second phrase, her fingers stop playing the proper notes, and even hit dead ones. It's as if she had gotten on a bycicle years later only to realize that she forgot how to ride it. Alazne grits her teeth as her face becomes a mask of frustration. Even though she tries to power through it, likely to reach her favorite part of this song, she ends up groaning and giving up. She presses her lips together as if to repress as sob.
"Ah... W-why would I be surprised. I always fuck everything up. Even playing the guitar, my favorite thing in the world, and a song that I have played over and over, my fingers suddenly have no clue where to go."
I stand up hastily and then kneel in front of her. She looks at me as tears form in the corners of her eyes. I rest my hands on her shoulders.
"You're just very nervous because I'm watching you. You are worried about disappointing me, even though that couldn't be further from how I feel about you. Playing an instrument isn't the domain of that part of your brain that questions everything, that worries about what others think, that filters every thought and movement to figure out if it has to censor them. Isn't that right? You need to return the control to your true self."
"Y-yeah..."
"I'll lie down on your bed behind you and close my eyes. I don't want to hear you performing for someone else's ears. Play because it keeps you alive."
She nods and grabs a tissue from the nightstand to wipe her tears. As I promised, I get on her bed and lie down behind her, resting my head on Alazne's soft pillow. It smells like my beloved. I close my eyes and I caress the back of her picking arm.
Alazne starts to play the beautiful melody, and this time she nails it. She performs with passion as if she was shaking off all her burdens. And it doesn't matter that I'm listening to it with my eyes closed while a holy warmth spreads throughout my body, because back when I lived here as a ghost, I always stared at her as she played. I replay one of those memories in the theatre of my mind. Her fingers dance up and down the strings as her facial expression goes through a series of transformations. First she looks sad, then concentrated, then passionate, then mournful. There has never been a human being this beautiful.
The tears stream down across my cheeks to moisten the pillow. The first time I heard Alazne's song, the one peeking out from inside her performance, was when I happened to wander in front of this apartment building, back when I could no longer conceive of anything more than the dreary, colorless, meaningless eternity as a ghost who would never move on. I can now sink in this bed and hear the full intensity of Alazne's playing, smell her scent, feel the warmth of her skin, because she brought me back to life.
When I know that it won't take long until the last notes fade away into silence, I wipe the tears from my eyes. A man doesn't cry.