Drama on Euboea

The bittersweet agony that Daktylos went through on Euboea in 1911 was as moving as it was staggering – and sometimes difficult to comprehend. I read his not particularly extensive but distressing diaries twice and found the sheer force of some of the passages rather astonishing.

Daktylos lived in a small village in the south of the island, not too far from the sea. Until the untimely death of his wife, he had been a middle-level administrative officer, but soon he stopped working, as she had left him a small sum, on top of what he had saved over the years. Some members of her family had left Greece to start a new life in America; apparently, they were doing well, as they had sent her money here and there.

And Daktylos was eventually going to receive a small monthly pension, as part of his service for the provincial government, which would be enough for his daily needs. So, he had the time and leisure to take care of his goats and chickens. He also liked to read and couldn’t wait to devour his beloved French novels for the second or even third time.

One morning after breakfast, Daktylos was sitting outside, with a book in his hands. The spring sun was mild, and he could hear some voices nearby: the neighbors, mother and daughter. The father was working in Athens as a builder and rarely at home. Yes, those three also wanted to start afresh in America, as soon as they had saved enough money for the journey and the first few months there.

The lady worked at a store at the other end of the village, together with her mother-in-law, who was about seventy and probably eager to retire. The shop was in an odd location, however, and thus not very profitable, as far as Daktylos knew. At least, the neighbor had a bicycle, which she used to get back and forth to work. Twice a day.

Daktylos hadn’t been listening to what the mother had yelled at her daughter – probably that she shouldn’t wander off too far or poke the moist ground with her toes again and get her feet dirty. The girl looked astoundingly beautiful, though, as she was gleefully basking in the mild sun, replenishing her young soul and body after the winter.

Lanike had long, dark-blonde hair and was wearing a simple dress. As she was blind, she loved digging her naked feet into the soft, moist top soil, creating a direct contact between herself and the world. Which the pleasant, balmy sunlight only amplified. She had crossed her slim arms behind her lower back and was twisting her ravishing upper body sideways, as if she knew that she was being watched.

By the widower next door. Yes, Lanike was smiling in his general direction, as if she was on stage, although she couldn’t be sure that Daktylos was there. Deep inside herself, she probably knew, and now she even unbuttoned her cardigan, all the while poking and prodding the ground some more with the toes of her left foot. Until her mother yelled that Lanike should come in, since she had to go to work.

On her bicycle. Daktylos briefly wondered what Lanike did inside her house all day but then noticed how stirred and agitated he was. After his wife died, he had thought about marrying again a few times, but he didn’t know any widow or other eligible woman between thirty-five and fifty here, in his village and the vicinity.

Well, he had saved money and thus could also travel a bit, now that he was retired but still fit. But then, all Greek islands were rather alike. And somewhere else, there wouldn’t be a Lanike next door. As long as they had already been neighbors, Daktylos had enjoyed seeing her grow up, of course, but he had not noticed until now how womanly her hips were filling her dress.

Of course, Lanike also had a lovely, noticeable bosom – which must be incredibly firm, Daktylos caught himself leering again, as her fine form reappeared in his mind, contre-jour. Has there already been some young chap asking for her hand? was a natural question. Does Lanike want to get married? Would she ever? Of course, Daktylos wished only the best for the young lady, but he knew that he would be jealous beyond measure.

Needless to say, the two of them had interacted here and there, over all the years they had been neighbors. As the blind girl preferred the safe surroundings of her home, they had talked at or just outside her house a few times, but he had never been alone with her. As long as his dear wife was still alive, she had always been with him.

As far as Daktylos remembered, Lanike used to sit in a wheel chair when she was younger, which the carpenter down the road had made; perhaps, her mother had deemed that safer for her daughter. Said wheel chair was maybe broken now – or simply too small. How Lanike was standing outside her house in the morning sun, in her lovely dress and the fine figure underneath, she radiated health, though. And zest.

Yes, Lanike is quietly magnetic – and effortlessly alluring. Daktylos had reopened his book in the meantime, but he wasn’t able to settle his thoughts: How old is she, actually? He remembered that he and his wife had been to Lanike’s house for her fourteenth birthday. His better half had found it preposterous when he gifted Lanike a book – and not even his remark that someone could read it to the girl could change her mind.

Yeah, that must have been about five years back, since his wife had still been working as a teacher. Daktylos recalled that she had to finish marking a stack of written exams that day in May, before she joined him at Lanike’s home. Initially, Daktylos had been sitting somewhat awkwardly amidst a bunch of older relatives and cousins. And Lanike herself, of course.

He would have found it impolite to decline the invitation to coffee and cake. He had taken the afternoon off – what else was he supposed to do? Wait, until his wife would come home from her school? Lanike’s grandparents, who were living in Aetos or Pigadakia, Daktylos hadn’t seen since then; perhaps they had died.

Since Lanike and Daktylos knew each other fairly well, the widower could have gone over to her house once in a while. Or would Maria, the neighbor on the other side who had been helping Lanike for years, find that strange? he was asking himself. Maybe. But maybe not. Perhaps, it would be a relief for Maria, and she would be happy.

As would be Lanike, perhaps. But then, if she needed to use the toilet, she wouldn’t want a man to assist her. And watch. Or, maybe she would. Oh, stop imagining the girl’s naked lap, Daktylos sighed, as he caught himself fantasizing about the young neighbor again. But no, there’s no use, he told himself and slammed his book shut.

He got up from the bench and went around his house to feed his chickens and the goats. Eventually, he even walked up to his olive grove and removed some dead twigs to distract himself but also do something useful. When he reached the far end, near the wall of whitish rock, he fiddled a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and looked down at the valley.

Yes, what a fine spring morning it was: The light was splendid, as was the fresh mixture of smells. There was a bit of smoke coming from the chimney in Lanike’s house; perhaps, the lovely older neighbor was preparing lunch. Daktylos had never thought much about Maria, who was about ten years older than him. Maybe more like twelve.

She had shown Lanike how to fold cranes and other things, which now decorated their and Maria’s house. Yes, Daktylos could imagine that Lanike liked doing handicraft. And her mother had a small stationary section in her store, so she could provide new colored paper, once the old stack was used up. Or Lanike’s dad could bring supplies from the capital, where he worked.

Does Lanike help prepare lunch or dinner? he wondered. Can she peel potatoes or carrots if she takes her time? Well, now that I’m retired and have time, I should maybe offer my help to Maria. And Lanike. Her mom works quite far away, and her dad only is home every six weeks or so, he promised himself on the way down through the olive grove, letting his eyes wander back and forth from Lanike’s house to his own.

But then, wouldn’t everyone think that he was only trying to be closer to the ravishing blind young woman?! That wouldn’t be very becoming, would it? But by no means could Daktylos admit how strongly he felt about the damsel. If he had been only half his age, he would have asked for her hand in a heartbeat but, at 51, that wasn’t possible. Or was it?

And so, the days slowly but not unpleasantly went by, until it was summer. Of course, now it was too hot to do anything outside between nine in the morning and three in the afternoon. So, everyone got up earlier and did what was needed early in the morning, before it would be too hot again.

At least, Daktylos had made it his habit to talk to Lanike and her mother whenever suitable. Virtually every morning, Lanike stepped out of her house to soak in the light and the mild, fresh air; over time, she came to expect her widower neighbor to approach and talk to her. And Daktylos sensed that she welcomed the charming innocent interaction.

What also had become a habit was masturbating. Which Daktylos hadn’t really done for years. Ideally, he would stroke his rod before the nap after lunch, but – if possible – again in the evening. Initially, he had looked at a nice photo of his late wife, when she had been about 23, but then his imagination provided him with fresher, much more powerful images:

Lanike, in various, fairly light summer dresses, which her bronze or honey-yellow legs. Her heaving young bosom. Her long, full, dark-blonde hair was quite something as well. And so, after a few times, Daktylos had placed the photo of his wife back to where he had taken it from: the mirror next to the front door, in the hall.

Of course, Daktylos was now getting up earlier, too, so that he wouldn’t miss anything exciting that might transpire outside his abode. As he wanted to be subtle, he never rose instantly when he saw Lanike stepping outside. He pretended he was reading for a minute or two, until he put the book down on the bench, got up, and hollered a few kind words across the yard.

Usually, Lanike and Daktylos chatted until her mother would ask her to return inside: sometimes, it was too hot, then too sunny, often both, and other times it looked like rain, according to Lanike’s mom. And so, he promised himself to cheer her up as well. He began involving her in conversations, so that Lanike could stay outside with him a bit longer.

And the trust-building measures paid off. One day, Lanike’s mom suggested that Daktylos come over in the afternoon and read something to Lanike, so that she had company when Maria is busy:

“And you’re alone, too, Mister Daktylos, ever since your wife… Maria is either at the house or hers, just in case. But Lanike can do pretty much everything by herself,” her mother cooed and waved off all concerns with an endearing, charming hand gesture that was almost a bit out of character.

Needless to say, Daktylos was hugely relieved and instantly began to be looking forward to the afternoons that would ensue. The prospect of being able to see Lanike inside her house made him exceedingly happy, of course. Yes, tomorrow he would start reading Aesop’s Fables to Lanike – from the very book he had given her on her fourteenth birthday.

As Daktylos lay down to sleep in the evening, he – in his mind – heard Lanike’s mother again, assuring him that the damsel can do pretty much everything by herself. And so, he envisioned the young lady pleasuring herself. Oooaarr, yes, that was quite something, in conjunction with the image of her basking in the sun in the morning. Contre-jour.

Daktylos’ shaft felt the same, as it was growing longer, thicker, and firmer than ever during the last ten years. Twenty years, Daktylos wrote later in his diary, before he added: I can’t even remember when I had my last orgasm. But today was quite something; although I just masturbated, I roared up at the ceiling of my bedroom when I spilled my seed. Probably loud enough for Lanike to hear, at her house.

When Daktylos woke up the following morning, he wanted to gratify himself again, but he was afraid that he would miss Lanike outside. So, he decided to get up, instead, although he had a rendezvous with his sweetheart this afternoon. Strictly speaking, the morning chat would not have been necessary.

But then, Lanike’s mother may have grown suspicious and come over. Barged in and caught him masturbating. To the image of her blind young daughter. Well, she wouldn’t know what exactly was going on in my mind but, still…

When Daktylos got up, he was proud of his firm hard-on, however, and didn’t want to confine it to his pants. So, he put on his shirt, first, and imagined presenting his shaft – as impressive as it was – to Lanike. Who’s nimble with her hands. She would have instinctively known what to do with it and relieve him. Yes, for the first time since only Zeus knew when Daktylos felt virile.

Yes, the man in him had been reawakened. The object of his desire, however, was close yet as far away as possible – and more or less taboo. But at least, he knew someone who he could attach strong feelings to. Which was something that he had also been missing, without being aware of it.

The little chat with Lanike and her mom was brief that morning, but it didn’t matter, since he would see the younger of the two women again this afternoon, inside her house. Although Lanike was blind, Daktylos elatedly walked down the road into the village to the barber.

Georgios was quite entertaining. Of course, Daktylos didn’t tell him the reason why he was already back for a haircut after just three weeks. Oh, I just felt like it, he only told the man cheerfully, and so the two switched topics to the weather and the impending harvest.

Since he was in the village already, Daktylos also treated himself to a nice lunch at Mrs. Ismene’s small restaurant, who he also liked. She was still fair and had the perfect age but, alas, she was also married. Ismene still joined him, while he was eating, but Daktylos would have preferred to be by himself.

So that he could imagine what lithe Lanike and he could do together, eventually. And how she masturbated. Which she did, didn’t she? Well, perhaps he would find out soon. If she squirted a lot, though, her mother might find out. Would she condone it? Lanike didn’t have a lot of activities to entertain or amuse herself with.

Walking uphill on his way back, Daktylos sweated quite a bit, so that he washed himself once more, before he lay down for a nap. In his mind’s eye, he saw Lanike’s long elegant fingers reach into the slit in her underwear and unfold her labia. Her legs were wide open, and now she was playing with her clitoris.

Which Daktylos envisioned being large, for some reason. As there was quite a lot of viscous, translucent nectar, Lanike was now rubbing the juices all over her vermillion vaginal vestibule, until there was more and more divine oily liquid, which then came splashing all over the place.

Was her bush actually black or dark-brown? Large?This afternoon, when I’m reading to her, I gotta check the color of her eyebrows. Her bush should be the same, Daktylos made a mental note. Has she discovered yet that she can apply the juices from between her legs to her nipples? And then rub those little studs?

Does she take off her dress or change before she goes to bed in the evening?Ooh, oooh, oooaah… Daktylos was treating his rod enthusiastically all this time, until he lavished himself into the kerchief that he had spread onto the bed. Looking at the whitish gooey mother-of-pearl concoction, he was almost impressed by how much it was. Feeling proud, he passed out for an hour but then washed himself once more: Blind people are sensitive to smell, he knew.

Although, the subtle odor of a man might arouse the girl, he thought to himself, as he was drying himself. He then looked in the mirror next to the front door, where the old photo of his wife was greeting him again. Yeah: I also look ten years younger than my real age, he was sure: Too bad that Lanike can’t see it.

And, yes, that load from an hour ago: that was more than I’ve ever seen, he convinced himself, as he was walking across the yard to Lanike’s house. Yes, the next time, I won’t wash so assiduously, he promised himself when he was knocking. But today is our first time, just the two of us.

Needless to say, Maria opened the door. She could probably tell that he had been to the hairdresser and gotten a shave. And that he was wearing his best pair of trousers. Maria asked him in and take a seat at the table, where Lanike was already waiting. Daktylos greeted her again, although they had already met in the morning.

Lanike’s light eyes were always wide open, but they were moving hastily inside their sockets. Daktylos placed his hand on her left forearm, as a warm, comforting gesture. Lanike’s head was tilted to face in his general direction. This moment lasted longer than Daktylos expected, but it ended abruptly when Maria stepped back into the room, coming from the kitchen.

“I enjoy Aesop’s Fables, too,” she was beaming at Daktylos.

Well, so much to being alone with Lanike. On the other hand, Daktylos knew that he had to get Maria on his side if he wanted his wild dreams to bear any fruit. And Lanike looks so incredibly alluring, the way she’s sitting here: sensual, coy, but also curious. No, it’s better that Maria is chaperoning today; I may not be able to contain myself, he thought to himself.

If I’m brash that might ruin everything. Daktylos tried to calm down and reconcile with the fact that Maria was here. At least, the pleasuring tonight would be amplified by several fresh images that had already burnt into his mind: Lanike’s arms, her heaving bosom, the seam of her undershirt that was showing in her decollete, and her honey-colored skin.

Which looked like the resin of the Aleppo pine, with which Georgios – who wasn’t just a barber but also winemaker – sealed his Retsina bottles. Daktylos looked around but couldn’t see the old wheel chair; perhaps, Lanike had simply grown out of it. She obviously didn’t need it at this point.

Expectantly, she was sitting on a normal chair with armrests. Meanwhile, Maria had fetched a bottle of white wine, of which she now poured a bit into Daktylos’ glass. He had placed his hand back onto Lanike’s forearm to let the energy flow back and forth between the two of them, but when Maria had finally sat down, he took his hand off Lanike’s.

The young woman looked a tad disappointed, but we shouldn’t overdo it, in Maria’s presence, Daktylos was sure. And so, he opened the book in front of him – which, unsurprisingly, was the one he had given Lanike for her fourteenth birthday, almost five years back.

He asked which tale the ladies wanted to hear, but they tossed the ball right back at him. Daktylos quickly decided on The Crow and the Fox, and while he was reading, he tried to split his time evenly between the page, Maria, and Lanike. He knew the text so well that he could have recited it by heart – and kept admiring the marvelous skin below Lanike’s collarbones.

Yes, that area was slightly sweaty and heaving; what a delicious, alluring sight to behold! When Lanike leaned backward, her young bosom was pressing nicely against the fabric of her dress from underneath. Perhaps, it was a bit older and, thus, had become a little tight? Did she want him to be able to admire her young chest? Either way, he would stroke himself like a demigod tonight.

He already knew that much. Does Maria have a clue how much I love the young woman here at the table? Probably. Women just knew that. And he had been to the hairdresser. For a blind girl. But again: it was better that Maria was here to mitigate his strong desire. To alleviate it. And bring him back down to earth.

When Daktylos was finished, Lanike clapped her hands, which was even more endearing than her mother’s gesture earlier. And even Maria felt compelled to applaud, which was a charming, heartwarming moment. Before Daktylos would get carried away, though, Maria stated that we would love to hear another fable tomorrow – which was the end of today’s time with Lanike, apparently.

Daktylos didn’t want to be impolite and quickly finished his glass. He couldn’t wait to give himself pleasure once more, at his house. Which couldn’t wait until this evening, however.

Too bad I haven’t really seen her legs, he thought to himself as he was rushing back. Once he was inside, he took off his pants and threw himself onto the bed – to celebrate the fact that he was going to see his young love every day now.