On Sleep and Fire

Posted: 16 November, 2014 in Daily Droppings, Other
Tags: , , , , , , ,

The nano eeks along unimpressively while Descent into Madness holds steady at 1795

 

 

She lay, head on folded arm against the corner of the sofa. Her other hand still reaching out towards her cocktail glass. He could see there was sleep in her eyes and fire too; in such a fashion that he feared for her drifting off to slumberland with her eyes still open, in case in her dozing, that one rather than the other should drift from her orisons and set the building aflame.

 

Hot, soaking air drifted in off the lake through open doors of the balcony. It eddied in the living room and brought up the smells of juniper excreting from her brow. Only those two social warriors retained any vertical ability at this point. The rest of the lot had disappeared to the far corners of the city in those yellow and white bugs of transport. What had remained of the soiree had since gone quiet.

 

He rose and traipsed across the hardwood to the kitchen, his feet now bare, his steps lightened to avoid making noise, but also to mind the spots now sticky with secrets and ginger syrup. Francis refilled his glass at the side boards, snuck in an ice cube now that no one could see and spurt the heathery scotch over it. ON his way returning to the couch he took the pitcher from the dining room table. He gave it a little shake after sitting down.

—still got ice in it, he said and pressed it to her face.

He poured for her, placed the pitcher on top of a magazine, and nudged the glass towards her, she gave a slight groan, but still grabbed the drink and took it back to her corner of the sofa.

She smiled at him as she drank. —we win, she said

He looked around once again to confirm this. —I suppose you’re right.

He reached out with a finger moistened by the sweat of cold gin cocktail and scraped the sleep out of her left eye.

—You want to call it a draw? he asked

—are you scared of what comes next? she responded

—this whole night, he shook his head. —it’s all been, well, an experience, that’s for sure.

She let out a giggle that seemed to bubble up and drip down her face.

—At least you’ve gotten most of the sex out of the way.

—most?

She shrugged and sipped. —At least the part that tends to trip people up. Nothing left worse than anything you dealt with at the last place.

Francis stared down into his melting ice cube. That look returned to his face, that look she met when she first saw him on college green, wearing that strange overcoat with the zipper. Tin coloured sky still too bright to look at.

They were really horrid to you back there, weren’t they?

He swallowed the rest of his whiskey.

—can we not talk about that, please?

—what else is there for us to talk on. I think we got everything else done.

She touched his arm. —it’s over there, ok? I promise. You’re ours now.

Jenny reached her arm over the back of the sofa and pulled herself up. She shuffled on her ass towards him. He did not shy away, but looked out the window, thumb scratching at the glass in his hands.

Her arms slipped round his neck and pulled him down into her.

—I guess it makes it my turn to start.

 

 

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