Vanderman

Cradling seductions in one arm and cold flasks in the other, Vanderman boasted of his juggling knack, baring a grin mingled with sly and genuine. “Do I balance or toss, Madeline?” He asked his morning companion, not waiting for an answer before freeing his hands for other endeavors. “Come close to me,” he careened to meet her halfway. She rose and went near. He turned her to the mirror and held his right hand over her face as they both studied her half image. Using his left hand he revealed the opposite view, amused at the findings. “There are no secrets in life, Madeline. The story speaks its tale everywhere, and we are character to everything.”

“That is why I adore you, Vanderman. You are an eternal experience.”

Vanderman continued without tasting of her compliments. “Did you notice the artistry in the two sides of your face?” He took her hands into inspection. “Look at the unique design of your hands. My hands.” He held them out. “Our feet. Ah! I am never bored with human art.”

Vanderman wasn’t a man of many choices. He had but one. He desired everything. People who stood far off called him mad and suggested he was too hungry to ever satiate. They were unaware that he never fed off of life. He never drained any other. He had mastered a way of tapping into the vast flux and influx. Women loved him for it. There was something beyond magnetic about his type of fragrant living. He catered to none and no human catered to him, although they tried. He wouldn’t allow it. It was a wonder how he so cunningly pulled life into himself although he was already full of life living in him.

“Your right side lites with emotion and your left in a serious science. The lines in your forehead speak of pathways into fields of the imagination. Brilliant genetic strokes.”

“Why, thank you.” Madeline was flattered.

“Ah, I do not compliment you my dear, but the Master designer. Your beauty is certain, but you can take no credit.”

Madeline hung her head, ashamed at her pride.

“Do not rearrange your joy into a shattered catastrophy," he told her. "Even so, your frown is a phenomenal work as well.”

She became halves again, uncertain of which side to play a role within. A humble character emerged, partly shy by shame and partly awed by his nature.