Wednesday, 22 October 2008
Legs like planed tree trunks, hugged by a dress wannabe belt and a low cut top grasping in pillow breasts. Marsha was a girl with confidence higher then a skunk on heat. Shaking things tight she took a walk into the room sending her hello in like a supersonic boom.
The Aspen grove sheltered a pool. The red and gold autumn leaves reflected where the pool was open to the sky. No birds sang in that grove or air moved. Time slept. Only a hero could bring life and break the curse. Nerus, struggling in the pig-pen wasn’t that hero…yet.
So you know about young people. They go to gigs, get drunk, and brag about dates Think again, I covered for a drunk mother from 11, lied for her, hid her bottles, cried myself asleep afraid if “they” found out. Forget about young love, meeting Joy only made it worse.
On the gramophone Wildwood flower fades into crackle and hiss as the needle arm moves to the side, drops and repeats. By the window, near the sofa, Vera lies slumped face down as she has for several hours. She will die soon but not before her wish is finely granted.
Face to face with the boyfriend who fucked my head up, called me scatterbrain, clown face, lard arse and worse... much worse. I was screaming and he laughs from his balcony belly so I used the gun and fired.
Guess what, he was right. I miss…from a foot I miss.