Rest, Iggy Pop.

22 Aug

Iggy was weary, so very weary.

Breathe.

21 Aug

She wasn’t sure whether the heat from the fire was making her eyes sting, or if she was going to cry.

He loved to build a fire, she thought, he built this one… suddenly she was sobbing. The thought of the future without him was too hard to get her mind around. How could she live without him? Was there any point? Who else understood her, loved her, knew her history? No one else smelled like him, and no one else made her feel safe.

She would have to grow skin again. Thick skin.

She remembered to breathe in, breathe out and then breathe again. Back to the beginning.

 

Take a vacation.

20 Aug

Man it was good.

He hadn’t read his messages for days.  He had a routine…a run on the beach every morning, pilates on the beach in the afternoon. He was reading fiction again, sleeping… hell sometimes he did nothing at all.

“You look wonderful”,  his wife remarked over breakfast. “We should stay here a little longer.”

Yeah… we should, he thought, but he’d still like to find out what was going on in the world.

 


Drop your dacks for a dollar.

19 Aug

“Over here kid…chin up, a little smile…that’s great”, he leaned over the viewfinder. “This is a cover shot or I’m Abe Lincoln”.

So thrilling, so glamorous and so sophisticated…next stop Hollywood! She smiled and she shivered.

 


Surrender.

18 Aug

He looked at her as she had longed to be looked upon.

Take me” her heart sang, “drink me in deep draughts.

No breath, no movement between them, other than a shift somewhere inside her.

“Always.” His ancient fragrance whispered of cloves and dust.

Now tilting his head ever so slightly… first to one side then the other. Warmth suffused her and she closed her eyes.

 


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Push the envelope.

17 Aug

Know when to let go.

16 Aug

“Let GO!” she whispered, even as she gripped harder. The window sill cut into her arms. Heat tore at her back.

YOU let go” Mary’s hands clamped vice-like, “Come with me”.

Her hair started to smoke and her hands began to sweat.


Go to the Espy.

15 Aug

The Espy was here, the music was here, he was here….but SHIT it felt different. Jesus. Where was Ross? Neil? The chick behind the bar he liked? The punter next to him smelled like soap, for fuck’s sake.

The band wasn’t too bad though. Everyone around him was taller…no joke, so he couldn’t see as well as he used to. Christ maybe he was shrinking. Ha ha.

Boom! There was Neil after all. Pissed as a fart as usual.

OY, GAZ mate“, slap hands. Neil smelled like roll-yer-owns, bless him.

“Didn’t know you was out. Wanna go for a smoke?”

“Yeahmate”, Gaz led the way out. The carpet was still sticky under his boots. All good.



Observe.

14 Aug

Lunette very much enjoyed watching people…always at a small table in the corner, preferably with a mirror to avoid craning her neck. A glass of Pinot Noir, some tender green olives and she was content.

Should someone ask to join her, or a waiter ask if she cared to order, her answer was always the same.

“Non, merci”  she would shake her head, “I wait for a friend”.

That was true. Lunette was waiting for a friend, one who would sit as happily as she did, watching.

She had yet to see another watcher. Somewhere out there, perhaps he was was waiting too.


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Get comfy.

13 Aug