Love Dax

CHAPTER 1

Love Dax got out of bed. It wasn't his bed exactly but that was alright. For now. He was still saying that thirty three years later. Someone's else's bed, someone else's robes and jeans.

What was the meaning of life again? Asked Dax to the mirror that wasn't his. The mirror replied as it usually did. Brown black hair, dark brown eyes, middle complexion , OK cheekbones etc. Bored of this description he made dirty on the towel that wasn't his and retired to the bedroom that wasn't his.

Nancy was non descript. Her cheekbones were high, her breasts pert and her waist on the womanly side of childbearing. Dax wondered out loud 'How could it be him?'. Forgive me reader but as its clear there is some sort of mental illness around i feel i have to say something. Dax was a schizophrenic child, and an autistic one and a childbearing one. Bear with me. Despite his disabilities his parents took every word he said as GOSPEL and I mean GOSPEL. You can probably imagine the trouble this got him in.

Dax took a toothbrush from the packet and returned to the bathroom for his toilet. Once finished he dressed himself in women's robes and went today down on the bed, mental Kama Sutra in his head.

Later that day when the sun was warm, or rather the air, or rather the ground, or rather the sun. Well it was warm and Dax was still in his bathrobe and Nancy was nowhere to be seen. Enter the delivery driver. The bell rings at the front door and dazed by the sudden sound Dax took to the stairs slowly like and old man going for a tin of corned beef. RING the bell went again. Dax reached the bottom the stairs and reached the door. 'Hello' YEAH MATE DELIVERY FOR NANCY!' 'SIGN HERE@ Dax complied as it wasn't his delivery exactly just how he liked it. The box was heavy and something was rattling around inside. Dax went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife and cut through the packing tape of the brown Amazon Box . What shook him most about the Shakespeare Bust inside was that its inscriptions wee written in Latin. Nom qui Dorma Est thought Dax as he unwrapped the bust and lay iot on the Kitchen Table. Nancy had been talking of a gift for him for ages well it seemed that way to Dax who was already getting excited at the thought of evenings spent orating in front of the bust while Nancy smiles , laughed and interjected with her own sonnets, cuppolas and lines. Dax was bemused but in a pleasantly surprised sort of way. This bust was exaclty right and his. His and by right. A Gift. From Love. From Illness, from life, from drugs, from coffee.

Dax never dressed. He was completely at home in a dressing gown and robes that did not belong to him. Calottes were his favourite. Especially the brown black ones with the see through sides. He couldn't get enough of them especially during the day when he would pores himself against the warm radiator and feel the hot metal pressed removed by one layer onto this skin. But enough of cross dressing. Nancy and Dax were fairly conventional if you imagined the whole house as a giant bedroom. Fucking on the stairs in the living room and on the kitchen table weren't exactly de Rigour with Nancy but she happily complied with Dax's embrace when it came near as she was lustful as he. Beneath her clam bankers exterior Nancy was a ghost. She lived in the shadows and Dax was the light to her. It should be good thought Dax but Nancy's awareness was stifling at times. Her knowledge of the stock market and banking trade unions was second to none but as Dax remined her at tines it wasn't literature.

Having Dax in her life as a boon to Nancy. Forever giving up the fight to survive on the dealing room floor to older men was stifling for Nancy with a first degree with hones.   If office politics were a degree she would have failed. Nancy was no obligator to her colleagues. She was a Eunuch. However she enjoyed a large salary and the Ove of err father and mother and some friends of which wee shall learn more about later. Of the two people she was close to a t work one was an enemy and one a closet lesbian. The office crowd shunned her because of her connections despite them she was still on the fast track for a vie presidency in a around thirty years time. This what Jack said. Jack was her supervisor and a charming man. In fact banking had been in his blood since his parents lived in Germany during the first world war and later emigrated to England to escape the Nazis and the gestapo who were wary of anyone with cash. Well coiffured and stalactite with the other women Jack enjoyed a lurid sex life after work and sometimes in work not that any of this was known to Nancy.

Mr Remiss was early on this delivery. As soon as Dax had unwrapped the Shakespeare bust then he was around unlocking the front door with his own key to place the bust strategically in the living room. He greeted Dax as ion old friend but neither cared for the other. Dax would move it when it suited him but for now Monsieur Remiss was in charge. THe mister of affairs. The savage, Dax called him. As the dust settled on the bust now opposite the fireplace on top of what would have been the tv had this story been set theory years earlier but was in fact a three tired storage unit with a light on top.  'Very nice,' said Dax as the legion d'hpneur left the house.