07-28-2015, 08:40 PM
That was a long time ago.
--
Quite for a while. Just the crackle-burn of the sugar in the kretek. Least she's upright, has stepped delicately away from the mess and found a perch against the filthy brick. Smokes that thing down to the filter and wants another. Mid-way through the next cigarette:
'You want to tell me what happened back there?'
That pulls her eyes back to him, even draws one of her strange little vaguely self-conscious smiles out. The bank of her eyes to his, and then up, up, up.
'No.'
Not even six p.m., the falling sun and the flash of the washed out sky between the low-rise brick buildings. Traffic noise swirling around them, the ripe, rotting scent rising from the dumpsters. This tick-tick tick-tick he can't quite place. He lets it go. Lets it be.
Leans back against the frame of the van.
Gives her all the space she needs in the world.
And she takes it, of course she does. Finishes the cigarette and pinches the remaining embers off so that they spark and swirl and die and she can flick the filter into a dumpster without being too concerned that she will set the world on fire. There are better ways to set the world on fire.
--
"I killed Claire."
--
Quite for a while. Just the crackle-burn of the sugar in the kretek. Least she's upright, has stepped delicately away from the mess and found a perch against the filthy brick. Smokes that thing down to the filter and wants another. Mid-way through the next cigarette:
'You want to tell me what happened back there?'
That pulls her eyes back to him, even draws one of her strange little vaguely self-conscious smiles out. The bank of her eyes to his, and then up, up, up.
'No.'
Not even six p.m., the falling sun and the flash of the washed out sky between the low-rise brick buildings. Traffic noise swirling around them, the ripe, rotting scent rising from the dumpsters. This tick-tick tick-tick he can't quite place. He lets it go. Lets it be.
Leans back against the frame of the van.
Gives her all the space she needs in the world.
And she takes it, of course she does. Finishes the cigarette and pinches the remaining embers off so that they spark and swirl and die and she can flick the filter into a dumpster without being too concerned that she will set the world on fire. There are better ways to set the world on fire.
--
"I killed Claire."
But my heart is wild and my bones are steel
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free.
- Phosphorescent, Song for Zula