Tuesday, July 28, 2009

24 hour sketchbook, July 2009

something I dreamed up 6 years ago;

I told no one how he came to me and I touched his face and his cheeks felt as if they were burning. He had been outside in the sun, but he was wearing a jacket and a sweater. I whispered from my perch on the steps, "You're crazy, you know?"

And he had smiled at me and tried to bite my fussing hands, which were now concerned with ridding him of his clothing.

But he relented with the struggle and I had the jacket off and discarded down the steps. And the sweater pulled off over his head. I stopped as his face reappeared to me from under the wool. He had his arms up and for a moment we stared at one another before I climbed another step to make myself his height and pulled hard. The sweater ended up flying down the staircase, landing somewhere on the floor below.

As we climbed upwards we kissed. I felt for a moment I would stumble and fall, but his hands were holding me, reassuring safety.

It was an awkward dance in the bedroom. The fluttering and whilring of clothing. I, too, was dressed in layers. It was cold in the apartment. I could see the sun through the skylight when I was on my back. The glass looked to be sizzling but from where I lie, I shivered and closed my eyes.

On a boat. Alone. I moved from my bed and the ship stirred. Above, on the deck I could hear someone pacing and talking. I reached across the bed for a moment, feeling lost, but then I was dressed and coming up into the air.

"Good morning!" It wasn't him, but someone else. A friend. I grinned and waved against the blaring sun that glinted off the water.

"Who're you talking to this early?" I sat down on something wooden and slightly wet.

"Oh, you know...no one important. Are you going to see him today?"

And I grinned. "This is my secret."

"Well, If you *are* planning on going, I was planning on giving you a ride because I need to be in that area, anyway..."

And then there was a car and I was out of it and walking through tightly enclosed streets bustling with people. Like London in the summer, maybe. It was hot, but there was snow on the ground.

Back with him, we elbowed our way through the crowd together. Another girl followed us and we tried to lose her on numerous occasions. She made me take off my shoes upon entering a building and when I wasn't looking she threw them at me, hitting me square on the forehead with the heel of one of them. I felt dizzy, as if waking up.

But I only teetered on the edge of my dream, before he pulled me into a taxi to sit down and we were driving away from the crazy girl with my shoes in her hands again. She shouted after us, but the windows were up and her mouth just moved grotesquely wide, as if she were trapping flies.

There was a restaraunt with three levels and all the seats were against balconies. We sat on the top level and my view was of the men's bathroom. We shifted uncomfortably through dinner, through every flushing noise. We kept our eyes on one another and the food. The restaraunt was white and electric blue. There were waterfalls that dropped from an unseen source at the entrance. The water simply dropped off ....nothing. Children were allowed to discard their clothing for bathing suits and play in them. We watched for a moment before leaving and then walked away, kicking snow in new boots I had bought to replace my shoes.

And then I was...not with him. But he asked me to come over and I was there again. And I said, "I should get home by the afternoon or my mother will worry about me."

And he messed up my hair and said, "That's ok. It's not like you're really here, anyway."

And I nodded, "This is true, but this is enough for now."

"Quite. Quite."

And his face was still warm when I touched it.

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