Macey McGarry was a face licker.
In her early years this was a trait or an obsession that she was never able to indulge in as much as she needed.
The odd hospital visit, a pretend look into a sleeping kid’s room or a visit to an old folks unit gave her opportunity but mostly she was frustrated.
She had tried licking the TV when someone’s huge face was on it but this didn’t do anything for her. It only stained and smudged her telly and she liked her telly.
She’d been doing this since she was fourteen and was delighted that she’d never been close to being caught.
It all began when her gran died. Macey had been left with her as she lay in her casket. She’d asked for privacy and her family had respected her wishes. She said goodbye to the old lady and for a reason she has, to this day, never understood, had a compulsion to lick her face. She did so and was a bit disappointed. She knew from then on that she only wanted to lick the living.
Coincidentally the first living person she did this to was her granddad. He had drunk a lot of wine a few days after his wife had died and he’d fallen asleep on his chair. She stared at him. She waited until he was snoring and she did it.
Macey felt wonderful. There was nothing sexual in her feelings, she could get that from a boy in the usual way but she just felt complete.
She smiled as she waited for the old man to wake and when he did, she reckoned that they had a connection and the best conversation ever.
Macey was hooked.
At first she tried to plan for her obsession but that lessened the feeling. If the opportunity just happened, that was when she was euphoric. Of course she couldn’t converse with young kids or those without capacity but the hugs that followed made her complete.
Those who didn’t know what she had done, her sister, a few lovers, an old drunk on a park bench always interacted with her when they woke. She always watched them, waiting for that ‘Hello’ or whatever. No-one was bad to her.
She thought on it as Christmas morning or the Olympics. It would never be every day but when it came around it was very special.
Macey had thought about seeking out like minded lickers but decided against this. It was hers, all for her and she didn’t want to share.
Macey got to seventy years old and for whatever reason she needed more. She finally found her calling. She volunteered at the Hospice and read to people as they fell asleep. Everyone thought that she was a Godsend. Staff, family even the clergy gave her their thanks. Macey was content. She had found her calling. She gave comfort and happiness to all she came into contact with.
She wondered if they would have cared if they knew that she licked their faces.
11 thoughts on “Macey by Hugh Cron”
I liked this. It just confirms my sense that life is and will always remain a mystery. (Thank God.)
Thanks so much for your comment.
Yep, life is a mystery.
Sometimes I think it’s a mystery why we keep going – Maybe it’s simply because we don’t know the alternative which is all mysterious too!!
All the very best my fine friend.
The opening sentence is a great hook. It seems that some of us are destined to travel from cradle to urn not overly concerned about the world around us. It’s as though the mind remains in the womb. This is funny, but also a touch sad. If there is a heaven, maybe face licking is the way in. Seems to work well for dogs.
I’ve always wanted to try toad licking. Not for any hallucinogenic repercussions (Well…) but mainly a curiosity to find out what they taste like. I do like their wee cousins legs!
…But I think I’d want them cooked first especially if there were no hallucinogenic repercussions.
Thanks as always!!
I believe the fairy stories about frogs turning into princes originated with toad licking.
I like the quirkiness of this story. Face-licking might be an unusual way to connect with others, but at least it worked for Macey.
I think a handshake does me!!
Thanks so much for your continued interest in my stories.
All the very best my fine friend.
It works for animals, and is more hygenic than tongue to anus, or so I’m told. Perhaps she learns about the lick-ee (yes, I’ve written a story about it – Licorice).
I am now wondering on the use of licker, licked and lick-ee.
I suppose I could pitch the story as ‘Macey was a face licker who licked unknowing lick-ees’.
But to be a ‘lick-ee’ do you need to want to be licked by a licker??
These are the big questions my fine friend!!
Having a child who thinks licking faces is hilarious and vividly recalling my little brother do the same when we were kids…your story made me think…what do they get out of it? why do some kids lick faces and others don’t? Is there a contingent of adult face lickers? So many questions! Entertaining and thoughtful.
Thanks so much for your kind comments. I’m delighted that you enjoyed the story.
I was toying about with the idea of compulsion and there not always being a reason for it. Or if there is, it may not even be at the front of the persons mind.
I also must admit, that the first line of The Clash’s song ‘Bankrobber’ was playing when I began to work on this!
Thanks again – I can’t tell you what a comment means to me!!!
All the very best for the festivities.