The Commander. Kay David

if nothing were touching her, nothing holding her down, nothing holding her up. She wanted to open her eyes but she couldn’t. Her lids were too heavy and when she tried to speak, her tongue felt the same way. Someone had attached weights to it.

      Out of the confusion another detail started to register. It was minor, but she concentrated on it and tried to magnify the feeling. After a moment, she put a name to it. Touch. Someone was touching her. It took another second to understand where the connection was being made and another second after that to name it. Her hand. Someone was touching her hand. She strained to respond, but her fingers wouldn’t move, the command never making it out from her brain.

      “Lena…querida… Can you hear me?”

      The words were soft in her ear, soft and loving. They brushed her cheek with a feathery touch and a warmth she craved. For some unexplained reason, the Spanish made her feel good, too, made her feel as though whoever had spoken cared deeply, cared passionately. Who was talking to her like this? She could hear the emotion in his voice and the coldness faded, if only for a moment. When he spoke again, she fought the cloud of confusion that surrounded her, but it was too strong. It picked her up and carried her off.

      The last word she heard was querida. The last thing she felt was a kiss.