I am here. This is predominantly because I am nowhere else. The lights are out, the town is dead – there is nowhere else to be. This place sucks. I moved here eight months ago. Don’t ask me why. I have no answer. Maybe I was trying to get to myself. Maybe I was trying to get away from him. Either way, I ran from, and I ran to here. It was, all things considered, one of my least expensive mistakes.
I could have done worse. The people here are nice. They are somewhat tolerant. They don’t really gossip about each other the way small town folks do in books… They bore the hell out of me. When I got here I was kind of hoping to be the big city girl, instantly disliked by the locals, who gradually wins them over with my big city wherewithal and small town heart. They already have a lot of small town heart of their own, though, and they get all the big city wherewithal they need from watching TV. I can’t compete with CSI for cool. I can’t even shock anybody here. Facial piercings, tattoos, and bizarre hair colours mean nothing to a village of people whose children have all gone away to art schools. Half of their kids are bigger freaks than I’ll ever be, and all without trying. It’s a bit cold tonight. It’s silent even though this is a Saturday. The bar might still be open if Ed hasn’t closed down early due to a lack of patrons… it’s my birthday and I have nothing better to do and nobody with whom to celebrate, so I shamble hopelessly towards where the sign’s light would be shining if anybody around here had ever decided to start using lit signs. At least the stars are beautiful, I tell myself. My jacket is insufficient for this chill. I pull it closer around me as I stare up into the night sky. There’s Orion again. I swear the bastard is stalking me. I recognize him by his belt, of course – just like always. I really don’t know my constellations; can’t even find the North Star. Sometimes I feel lucky just to have the vaguest idea of which way is up. Orion – out in the country one night after a long drive, slightly overheated in a clearing, being cooled by the breeze, we stared at him - “His belt matches the pyramids,” he commented idly as we lolled about on the grass, breathing in the smells of the earth, of each other. “It’s supposed to have some kind of significance according to some show I watched on the Discovery Channel. Or maybe it was A&E. I don’t remember.” “Mmmhmm.” I answered, intelligently. I had been observing his lips and hadn’t been listening to his words. What lips – pale, carved of marble, but soft and gentle. I miss them these days… I shake myself out of my reverie. He had told me once that I never listened. Maybe he had been right. I had always been watching those beautiful lips. All that is over now. I’m pretty sure I’ve done the right thing, leaving town like this. I hadn’t told anybody where I was going – it was just time to go. I had to. After we’d broken up he had been everywhere I looked. In that big city, with its light everywhere, loud clubs, nicely decorated pubs, and perpetual activity I had seen him everywhere I’d gone. There had been no escaping him. But that is all in the past now. I get up to the door of the Bassett Hound Lounge. Damn. It is closed early. Again. I had really been looking forward to getting a solid drunk on tonight. I turn to leave and a car pulls up beside me. I ignore it and keep walking as the driver rolls down the window.
“You took some finding.” He calls. “I almost didn’t get here on time.” I look up at the sky. “On time for what?” I am trying to act casual. In truth, my heart threatens to beat blood right out my pores. I keep walking. He gets out of the car and walks over, stopping me. I look up, trying to see Orion over his shoulder, but all I can see are those perfect lips. Everything suddenly gets a bit hazy, but I think the words those perfect lips are forming on the other side of my roaring pulse are something along the lines of “Happy birthday.”
no subject
This is predominantly because I am nowhere else. The lights are out, the town is dead – there is nowhere else to be.
This place sucks.
I moved here eight months ago. Don’t ask me why. I have no answer. Maybe I was trying to get to myself. Maybe I was trying to get away from him. Either way, I ran from, and I ran to here. It was, all things considered, one of my least expensive mistakes.
I could have done worse. The people here are nice. They are somewhat tolerant. They don’t really gossip about each other the way small town folks do in books…
They bore the hell out of me.
When I got here I was kind of hoping to be the big city girl, instantly disliked by the locals, who gradually wins them over with my big city wherewithal and small town heart. They already have a lot of small town heart of their own, though, and they get all the big city wherewithal they need from watching TV. I can’t compete with CSI for cool. I can’t even shock anybody here. Facial piercings, tattoos, and bizarre hair colours mean nothing to a village of people whose children have all gone away to art schools. Half of their kids are bigger freaks than I’ll ever be, and all without trying.
It’s a bit cold tonight. It’s silent even though this is a Saturday. The bar might still be open if Ed hasn’t closed down early due to a lack of patrons… it’s my birthday and I have nothing better to do and nobody with whom to celebrate, so I shamble hopelessly towards where the sign’s light would be shining if anybody around here had ever decided to start using lit signs.
At least the stars are beautiful, I tell myself. My jacket is insufficient for this chill. I pull it closer around me as I stare up into the night sky. There’s Orion again. I swear the bastard is stalking me. I recognize him by his belt, of course – just like always. I really don’t know my constellations; can’t even find the North Star. Sometimes I feel lucky just to have the vaguest idea of which way is up.
Orion – out in the country one night after a long drive, slightly overheated in a clearing, being cooled by the breeze, we stared at him - “His belt matches the pyramids,” he commented idly as we lolled about on the grass, breathing in the smells of the earth, of each other. “It’s supposed to have some kind of significance according to some show I watched on the Discovery Channel. Or maybe it was A&E. I don’t remember.”
“Mmmhmm.” I answered, intelligently. I had been observing his lips and hadn’t been listening to his words. What lips – pale, carved of marble, but soft and gentle. I miss them these days…
I shake myself out of my reverie. He had told me once that I never listened. Maybe he had been right. I had always been watching those beautiful lips.
All that is over now. I’m pretty sure I’ve done the right thing, leaving town like this. I hadn’t told anybody where I was going – it was just time to go. I had to.
After we’d broken up he had been everywhere I looked. In that big city, with its light everywhere, loud clubs, nicely decorated pubs, and perpetual activity I had seen him everywhere I’d gone. There had been no escaping him.
But that is all in the past now.
I get up to the door of the Bassett Hound Lounge. Damn. It is closed early. Again. I had really been looking forward to getting a solid drunk on tonight.
I turn to leave and a car pulls up beside me. I ignore it and keep walking as the driver rolls down the window.
“You took some finding.” He calls. “I almost didn’t get here on time.” I look up at the sky.
“On time for what?” I am trying to act casual. In truth, my heart threatens to beat blood right out my pores. I keep walking.
He gets out of the car and walks over, stopping me. I look up, trying to see Orion over his shoulder, but all I can see are those perfect lips. Everything suddenly gets a bit hazy, but I think the words those perfect lips are forming on the other side of my roaring pulse are something along the lines of “Happy birthday.”