Rain – a story in 22 words

Despite the rain
I will walk slowly by your side
because you’re holding my hand,
and I never want to let go.

Classy – #SoCS

It was the classiest restaurant in town. I was sure this was it. He even rented a tux. I got my sexy red number out of the closet and dusted it off. Spit-shined my red patent-leather stilettos, and dug out my favourite diamond necklace. The tux was enough, I thought, but when a limo pulled up at the curb and he got out and stood nonchalantly beside it, I called out to him, “Wait a minute, I forgot something!” and I went back into the kitchen, grabbed the box of lard and greased up my ring finger on my left hand.

I was so excited when I got out of the car! We were seated at the back of the restaurant in a quiet, romantic corner and he ordered champagne from the maitre d’ – he didn’t even wait for the waiter to come over. By this time I was almost pissing myself with excitement.

Then the salads came.

Then the entrees.

Then he ordered dessert for both of us. I thought, this is it. There’s got to be a ring in the jello.  I toyed with it, with my spoon. I searched it… It’s clear for fuck sake! Surely if there was a diamond ring hiding in it, I’d be able to find it! But no.

So I started on his. But to hell with the spoon. I grabbed his bowl and began to pick up his jello with my fingers. Every cube that didn’t contain a ring got tossed over my shoulder. My anger was ringing in my ears so loud I could barely hear his cries of mortification. The maitre d’ came over and ushered us out (after collecting the money for the food).

Dejected, I got back in the limo. He didn’t sit beside me. He didn’t speak. At all. Not until we got back to my place, where he told me he never wanted to see me again. Which really pissed me off since I didn’t even get his number.

socs-badge-2015This post is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click the link and join in! It’s fun!! https://lindaghill.com/2016/06/17/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-1816/

Stars and Char

As I hold you under the stars
And the threads of my jeans threaten
to pop
The fireflies dance in the smoke-drenched air
remains of our smouldering mound
of char

Your sighs say only that
you breathe the same air as I
but I long – I want to take –
I wish – I need to taste
the warm scent
of your moans.

As I pull you closer, closer under the stars
Nearer my thread-strained jeans
And my eyelids blink upon waltzing fireflies
And I inhale the smoke, your sigh, the scent of my
name upon your lips,
says you are mine
at
last