The Bullfighter and The Woman

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He defeated the bull, but what about the woman?
781 words
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14.6k
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SimonDoom
SimonDoom
5,349 Followers

Author's Note: This story is submitted as an entry in the 750-Word Story Event. Please keep that in mind if you wonder why the story isn't longer or more developed!

*

The old bullfighter sat in the chair at the table on the plaza outside the bar. He held a glass half full of gin. A young woman sat across the table from him. She was beautiful.

"You could stay a few more nights," she said.

"No," he said. "I cannot. I have a bullfight in Seville in two days. I must go."

The woman looked away, to the street crowded with people, and the old bullfighter knew she did not understand.

The day before, the bullfighter had fought a tough fight against a bull, one of the largest and fiercest he had ever fought. The bull stomped and snorted at the bullfighter but did not charge right away. When he charged, he lowered his head and twisted his horns toward the bullfighter at the last moment and almost gored the bullfighter. The tip of the bull's horn caught the cloth of the bullfighter's chaquetilla and tore it. The bull fought well, but in the end the bullfighter defeated the bull and the bull lay dead in the ring. The people in the ring cheered the old bullfighter.

That evening, the old bullfighter enjoyed his drink at the bar and the people cheered him again for his bravery and his victory. They bought him more drinks. The beautiful woman appeared in the crowd around the old bullfighter. She had a husband, but he was tired and he left the bar to go to his room at the hotel and the beautiful woman, his wife, remained in the bar with the bullfighter.

The bullfighter wanted the woman. He was old but not too old for this woman. When the crowd thinned and the bar almost emptied the bullfighter pursued the woman. She parried his efforts at first, but the bullfighter fought with skill and vigor and determination. He won. Later the beautiful woman came to his room at the hotel.

He undressed the woman and she lay pale and naked in his bed. Her skin shone like snow and her body curved like the tan hills outside the town. The road rose and fell on those hills and a man taking the road enjoyed the curve of the road so much he forgot where he was going.

The bullfighter parted the beautiful woman's legs and he entered her and he took her. He enjoyed the way she closed her eyes and the way she moaned when he pushed into her. She pushed back against him, and he knew, though she was a beautiful woman, that inside she was a wild animal. He had known many women like this beautiful woman with a husband asleep in another hotel room.

The night was late but still warm when they were done, and they lay in bed and sweat covered their bodies. The old bullfighter liked the way the woman's skin glowed in the candlelight. But he did not like the way the woman clung to him with her head on his shoulder when they lay in bed. He wanted to sleep because he had to travel to Seville the next day to fight another bull.

After an hour he convinced the woman to leave, and she returned to her hotel room with her weak and tired husband.

The next day the bullfighter went to the bar and drank gin and the woman returned and sat down at the table with him. He did not invite her, but she sat down anyway, and she talked to him about why he should stay in the town.

The old bullfighter sat at the table and the bright sun warmed the wrinkled skin on his face. The beautiful woman sat at the table too and she looked away. He knew that she wanted him to stay and that she would not understand why he had to leave.

The bullfighter looked away from the woman to the mountain range in the distance, above the roof tops. The mountains stood over the town like brown elephants.

A bull was not like a woman. When you fought a bull, you defeated the bull or the bull defeated you. The fight ended with grace and honor and death and when it finished you would go to a bar and drink gin or wine and the men would envy you and the women would desire you. But when you conquered a beautiful woman, the fight with her had just begun.

It was easier to fight a bull than to fight a beautiful woman.

SimonDoom
SimonDoom
5,349 Followers
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HawkerPennHawkerPennabout 2 years ago

He was not Hemingway. Not on the outside. But on the inside, he was Hemingway, and he told the truth. Like Hemingway. He told truthfully of bulls, and of beautiful women, and of being old with bulls and beautiful women. The bulls were strong and brave, and the women were strong and beautiful. The bullfighter was old, but he, too, was strong and brave and even beautiful in his own way. The women saw in what way he was beautiful, and loved him for it. And it was good.

EmirusEmirusover 3 years ago

I thought the story was okay and liked the idea behind it. You kept it simple which, in something short, I think is essential.

What did ruin my enjoyment, because I found it so irritating, was your continual reference to “the old bullfighter” or “the bullfighter” and “the beautiful woman.”

We know who they are and if they had, after being initially introduced, been referred to as “he” or “she” or, in her case, “the woman,” with just the occasional reminder he was old and a bullfighter and she was beautiful it would have been much better and made reading it more enjoyable. Think Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler.

I haven’t voted and I think my comment shows why. A real pity because I think the concept of a woman being harder to defeat than a bull is an excellent one with which many men will agree.

vanmyers86vanmyers86over 3 years ago

Nicely done! Evocative, tight writing, reminiscent of Hemingway. Five stars.

roxymovesroxymovesalmost 4 years ago

Love the use of simile, nice tight but erotic sex scene, love the ending.

SouthernCrossfireSouthernCrossfireabout 4 years ago

Very good story in the word limit allowed with a great ending that really makes the tale. Well done!

5*

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