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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.


Change direction.

11 Aug

The rink music on open nights was a mix of 70’s hits, and she knew them all. People moved aside as she approached. Everyone knew her. No-one spoke to her.

Skating backwards pleased Rhonda…looking to where she’d just been, not where she was going. Around and round, leading with her ass, occasionally glancing briefly over her shoulder.

She failed her grade in Compulsory figures. “You have three months to nail your figure eights before the Championships” coach Miller warned, “or you’re out”.

Like Rhonda gave a crap. She would follow her perfect bottom into the new decade and beyond.



Empty your hard drive.

8 Aug

What was it…no, that wasn’t it. Damn. That Chopin piece she learned by heart when she was seven? It must be the wine. Shit.

“Just relax and it will come. It’s called muscle memory”. He sat down beside her, pushing her along.

“You expect me to remember what I did fifty years ago when I don’t even know where I parked my car?”

“Go on. Hum the tune and let your hands follow.” Then all at once she was playing, and she closed her eyes but didn’t stop.

Move on.

5 Aug

They listened to the same music, wore the same tattoos, shared the same dreams. Kira knew she could read Kelvin’s mind, and he believed he could read hers.

He couldn’t, though, or he would have known she was bored out of her mind.

Try Tinder.

18 Jul

“Stillness, please“, said the Master, and tapped his palette.

“Forgive me”.

“You are Eve of all Eves, Virgin of all Virgins. Show me a pure countenance” he said, “and pray do not look so wanton”.

How could she sit quietly? She was tormented. What would he feel when he saw her? Would he love her…and yearn for her hand? It would be a long year but she would be patient.


Stop the self-talk.

16 Jul

There she was again.

If he pulled up would she freak and run? Maybe she’d smile…even stop and chat for a bit. What does it take before a chick knows you’ve made it big time? The car?…the cashmere?…the Rolex? Maybe never; she was always up herself at school.

“Stuck up bitch”, whispered Amal as the light turned green.

Praise the saints among us.

15 Jul

Sometimes at night, between three and four she called out. The city was dark and mostly silent…empty. “OY!” she’d yell, “GOTHAM CITY”, and “I KNOW WHERE THE ANGELS ARE”.

There were halos around the lights, and someone sang a song for her nearby. God bless, God bless us all.

Wear earplugs.

13 Jul

Some time between midnight and dawn, a thousand cicadas settled on her bed. The din was sharp-edged, unharmonious. By mid-morning it had taken on a form…a shape you could almost see. She tried talking to it.

“What are you?”, she asked, “Can we please talk about this?”.

WE ARE TINNITUS AND WE ARE FOREVER”.

She began to dance.


Image

Hit the piste.

2 Jul