IP: 24.18.171.195
Posted on June 5, 2010 at 08:41:12 PM by Charlotte Tweet
 “No I don’t know.” I say, and I mean it. There is one of those deer-in-headlight’s looks that cross my eyes as he kneels beside me and shows a genuine look of concern. I hate it. I hate that it had to happen. I hate it even if I don’t understand it. I hate it because I don’t care and already want to push it off and laugh and smoke another cigarette, but if I go to light up another one and this happens all over again? Well shit, I’m going to have to quit. “Smoking is bad for us.” I say stupidly, a grin dawning itself like a sunrise breaking through the eerie stillness of night. My expression is almost lude as two very gray animal eyes look at him. Seeing but not understanding. Hearing but not comprehending. Smelling and making decisions and choices based off of this. Feeling, and liking it. “Goddamnit, do you want to go swimming? I can teach you.” Because, frozen cold water sounds like a great way to jog the memory. Because icy cold water tends to stop the maddening rush of anything and everything unwanted; everything uninvited; everything unprohibited by my conscience which seems to be lacking at this point. “If you get cold we can light fire.” A pause. “Light a fire. I know some things about some things.” Whatever the hell that means. Apparently missing connector words are viable for the moment we’re experiencing. “Blake whatever’s happening…will you just stay here? I really don’t feel well.” I say, cheeks glowing with the onset of a ‘you-should-not-have-done-that’ kind of fever you get when you do something really stupid like, oh, wander around in a skimpy dress in the biting cold for hours, and hours, and hours only to then decide to take your shoes off and wander for hours, and hours, and hours. And then, because the fourth curse has to make everything difficult for a woman who almost always has her shit together… Why me? Why? Why? Really? Really? “Blake?” That was his name right? I put my hand down in the sand and leaned over to put my nose on his shoulder and smell him. Smell him. That’s right. Smelled him. “You smell really good.” It’s not like he’s wearing Burberry or something. Charlotte Tweet So we did make love. Is that what you're calling it? …this is probably just another one of those cry-for-help things. |
Replies:
- It's not the end of the world now baby... - By Blake June 13, 2010 at 11:12:32 PM
- 83 - By Charlotte Tweet June 16, 2010 at 09:42:57 PM
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