Ardor by Lily Prior Read Free Book Online

and my heart thumping.
    My long ears heard music in the wind rustling through the wheat fields. In the sighing of the doves. In the whispers of thenight. Above all I loved Arcadio Carnabuci’s singing, for his voice could bewitch the leaves on the trees, the rocks on the mountains, the river racing through its course.
    When my work for the day was done, and I did not anticipate a night call, sometimes in the dead of night I came quietly out of my stable and tiptoed to Arcadio Carnabuci’s cottage to watch him through the windows. I wasn’t peeping, really. I just wanted to see him. I couldn’t bear the thought of a day passing without feeding my hungry eyes upon him. Then, the glow of warmth from the candlelight indoors melted my heart, and I would imagine myself tucked up cozily inside with him, just as I was in my dreams.
    But outside of my glowing fantasies it was cold. I knew that he did not notice me. Would not even consider me. And this made my despair bitter as lemons. On the outside, yes, I had the appearance of a mule, but inside, couldn’t he tell I was a beautiful woman with shapely limbs and glossy brown hair? Yet how could I get Arcadio Carnabuci to notice this, when, even if he looked at me, he saw only the dusty gray fur, now shabby and a little bit moth-eaten, the mealy mouth, the oat-stale breath, the yellowing teeth, and the broad nostrils of a mule? This was my misery. My cross to bear. And now that this glamorous stranger had come amongst us, a real woman, what chance did I stand now?
    And so our little procession followed in Fernanda Ponderosa’s footsteps back to the house of the Castorini. He walked in step with her, matching right, left, and right again,trying to feel as close to her as he possibly could. And I did the same with him.
    Soon we arrived. The door opened and the house swallowed her up. A little time later a light appeared in one of the upper rooms, the one with the balcony, shining out through the chinks in the shutters. It was a bright night, there was a full moon, a good omen for lovers, and the sky was peppered with thousands of tiny stars, bright worlds millions of miles away, some of which had by this time already ceased to exist. It felt like the most romantic night that had ever been invented.
    By the light of the moon and the stars Arcadio Carnabuci noticed a roomful of furniture out in the yard. It seemed strange to leave furniture out, with those thieves the Nellinos down at Folpone, who would take anything that wasn’t bolted down and guarded by a vicious dog.
    Nevertheless he availed himself of the chaise longue and looked up at the window where his darling remained. He thought happily of how the pink plush had brushed against her bottom as it was now brushing against his. Then, under the influence of the moon and the stars and the singing of the night creatures, the owls and bats and cicadas, the voles and the newts, it came to Arcadio Carnabuci what he should do. He should sing. Sing to Fernanda Ponderosa and thereby announce his love to her in the way he knew best.
    Trembling, he could scarcely believe this was happening to him. He knew that here, tonight, history was going to be made. The rest of his life depended upon the song that was about toburst from his lips. The object of a whole lifetime of feverish dreams was here, now, and he wanted to savor the moment, the final bittersweet moment of loneliness and heart-wrenching desire, now so close to being fulfilled, before unleashing the full force of their shared and beautiful destiny. Having waited so long, a minute, maybe two, was in many ways a self-indulgence, but one that Arcadio Carnabuci decided he could allow himself.
    With his eyes fixed on the twinkling stars far away in the night sky, he walked toward the front of the house, positioning himself below the balcony with the precision of an opera singer on a stage. Slowly he took a deep breath, then, deliberately, he licked his lips, and