Free Got MILF? by Laura Lovecraft Page B

sounded from the hall.
    “Dream sweetly, Bill.”
    ~~~~~
    The next morning, Polina rose early. She washed her face, then stalked over to the wardrobe, fearing what she would find there. Opening the door, gray gown after gray robe after gray shawl met her horrified eyes, the same as had for days beyond count. But wait! What was that in the back?
    A mantle of midnight blue met her astonished gaze. She fell to her knees, grateful beyond words.
    Color. I am getting color back in my life. Oh, thank you. Thank you, Bill.
    Stripping off her night-clothes, she examined her body critically in the mirror, steel-framed glass reflecting her image, trying to see if any changes had been made while she slept.
    Her legs were still thick and dumpy, the blue traceries of broken veins clear under her pale skin. Her stomach still pouched out unattractively over the gray thatch of her pubis. But her breasts...were they just a tiny bit firmer, less saggy than they had been last night?
    The skin of her neck was still loose and covered with age-spots, but her teeth were now strong and straight, if a bit yellow. The ragged edge of her hair was now clipped neatly, and was the milky white of the cataract in her right eye just a little smaller today?
    Closing her eyes, she opened herself to the world of the spirit. She saw her power as a deep lake, dark blue in the middle, shading to turquoise at the shallows. For years the levels had sunk, as the meager trickles of belief were insufficient to fight the tide of her age.
    Now, a rushing torrent poured in. Bill's belief, his faith in her existence, made true by simply sitting and talking to her, fed her power like snowmelt feeds a river. Other streams fed the lake as well, and from nearby. Had one or two of Bill's friends known about the legend of the Snow Maid, and had chosen to believe it when their lives were so improbably saved?
    It is happening. I will get it all back. Youth. Beauty. Power. He thinks he owes me a debt. When I am recovered, I will owe him a debt beyond paying.
    And I will spend my life to prove it to him.
    Smiling in anticipation, she dressed in the blue gown and headed for the kitchen. She found Bill already there. He had found some bread and cut it into slices, but was staring around the kitchen with a confused expression on his face.
    “Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?”
    He nodded. “Yes, I did. I was going to make some breakfast,” he continued, “but it looks like my people have resources that you don't. I don't know if I am going to be able to cook using what you have here.”
    “Why should you cook?” she asked. “I am the woman. I will cook for you.”
    His look turned stubborn. “I have cooked for myself for the last five years, and I am pretty darned good at it, if I say so myself. And I am not used to someone doing for me what I can do for myself. You are not my mother or my wife, so why should I expect you to cook for me?”
    Polina smiled, mollified. “Well, you don't know how to do it here anyway, so what if I teach you?”
    Together they managed to make a breakfast that was more than edible. Once taught, Bill was able to toast bread on a fork over the coals in the wood-burning stove. Polina made porridge, which they ate drizzled with honey and butter, with cool milk to drink.
    Bill pushed his bowl away and sighed. “Hot food is a wonderful thing.” His eyes twinkled mischievously as he looked at Polina. “I have to wonder, though. Why does a being created by the belief of others need to eat? Can't you survive on faith alone?”
    Polina smiled. At last, one with a brain! “Ah, but you forget something, young one. Creatures such as we are created and defined by faith. So if those who believe in us picture us as beings who need to eat to survive, then we do.” She sighed. “Faith is pleasing, no doubt. You will never know, Bill, the ecstasy that comes when one of our believers gives themselves over to us completely. It is beyond