“Are you comfortable?” I asked.
“Maybe. If I am not comfortable, I can’t feel it. I am paralyzed now,” she replied
“There must be something I can do for you.”
“Don’t worry! I will be fine soon. By the way, you know where the kitchen is if you get hungry.”
I nodded.
“Do you feel embarrassed about the way I look now?” she asked.
“No, no, but somehow… I need to help you.
She gave me a weak smile and continued to examine the ceiling with her good eye.
“Could you please bring me a glass of water?” she said.
I stood up and hurried toward the kitchen. When I got back, I put the glass on a low table and sat beside her. Her body felt limp and surprisingly tender in my arms as I lifted her into sitting position. Supporting her back, I brought the glass to her lips. She moistened them, and glanced at me. I waited as she sipped some more water, then lowered her gently down again.
“Do you really care for me,” she said.
“No, I just want to fuck you,” I said nervously.
Her good eye filled with amusement, the other remained disturbingly dead.
“There is something appealing about you,” she said.
“My mother used to say the same thing,” I said with a smile.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Peter.”
“I am Nicole. I was named after a famous actress who died in 2068 at the age of 101.”
“Cute name!”
“Do you want to know what happened to me?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied hesitantly, wondering why she asked me this.