Another story inspired by this week’s prompts from ‘Inspiration Monday’
I Wish I Hadn’t Read Her Diary
She was the most beautiful women I had ever met. Her name was Magdalene and she’d appeared in my life just a week ago. In some ways it has been a very strange week. In spite of spending hours talking to one another I realize that I still know nothing about her except her name. When I mentioned this earlier today she smiled and invited me to her flat tonight where I will find out more. She had that mysterious look on her face and a wicked grin that promised me a night to remember.
So here I am, sat in her flat with a glass of beer in my hand watching her as she prepares the food. She looks even more ravishing than usual and, if I’m honest, a little threatening. I keep getting this image of a poor fly caught in a delectable spider’s web.
“Stop looking at me with those lustful eyes,” she whispers as she leans across and drops a book on the table in front of me. “You said you wanted to know more about me, have a read of this. It’s my diary, all you need to know is in there.” This was crazy. Most women I knew wouldn’t have let me anywhere near their diary. Magdalene was actually inviting me to read hers. This was too good an opportunity to miss.
I picked up the red, leather-bound book and started reading ……. “My Earthly name is Magdalene. I am in fact an Information Gathering Android from the planet Volgan 09. I have been sent here to gather details about the human race ………
She was obviously winding me up. I smiled and was about to make some sort of wise remark when I noticed something disturbing. The writing in the diary had vanished and in its place was a pair of eyes staring straight at me. My immediate instinct was to drop the book but I couldn’t. The more I tried to let go the more it appeared to be glued to my fingers. I tried to look away and call out for Magdalene but I couldn’t move. It was as if the eyes in the diary had locked on to mine and I was transfixed. They seemed to be burrowing into the very depths of my mind.
Then the words began to appear on the page. As I read them it slowly dawned on me that they were my words. Everything I had said, or imagined, or thought that day was being transcribed on to the page. I was vaguely aware of Magdalene standing by the side of me. “It will soon be over,” she whispered, “My diary is collecting all your memories, ideas, dreams, thoughts ….. everything. I told you it was going to be an exciting evening.”
The writing is slowing down, I suppose that means my mind is almost empty. Once the last full stop is added to the page I will no longer exist.