City 17



It’s snowing again and the price of the popcorn is extortionate, yet she’s wearing such a pretty dress that it keeps me from caring. It’s got the New York skyline on it and those legs of hers, they look so sensual and the feel of them beneath my fingers makes me shiver. We watch the movie not talking which suits me just fine because I don’t like talking, never have done. My left-hand says it all. Sliding up her leg, it caresses her thigh until those dirty fingers of mine are inside her panties. Soon enough I can feel pink mountains and melting plastic, and as they merge with what she’s got and she tilts her head back and sighs, I can feel her heart beat faster and faster until she leans in and bites my neck. After we leave, we smoke a few cigarettes in the doorway of a rundown American diner. It’s cold but the snow looks so perfect, and when she drops her smoke to the ground and holds me tight nothing else matters. So we grab a Chinese and pick up some alcohol and when we get back to mine we eat and drink and play Half-Life 2 until the early hours when she fetches a blanket and we curl up on the sofa watching some no-name zombie flick. It was my intention to have her good and proper, but tiredness got the better of us and the sight of her while she sleeps comes above all else. She’s a sexual creature, and yet despite her allure, there’s a part of her that remains childlike. It reminds me of Jenny from Forest Gump. Beautiful yet sad. Pure yet cast in shadow. A troubled angel with a taste for both prayer and sin. Close to 3 a.m. I carry her to bed and tuck her in before going outside into the freezing night air. Lighting a cigarette I take a piss against a wheelie bin and then stand in silence looking at all the vehicles blanketed in snow. Everything is still. Everything is quiet. The roads and sidewalks all look the same, and for a second, it’s as if the past, present, and future are all on the same page.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

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