Snapshot through a Soho window at night

Posted: August 29, 2011 in Short Stories, Urban
Tags: , , ,

Snapshot through a Soho window at night.

 

Looking out the large glass window at night, the heavy rain tapping on the thin glass like ghostly fingers trying to remind me of a past I’m here drinking to forget, I feel existentially lonely and as temporary as the cascading water. The drops on the pane smudge as I stare beyond them to the street below looking for connections, for signs and symbols. The cars rumble past sounding as if they’re skating across silver foil whilst the mecury shining puddles splash the tilted umbrellas on the sidewalk.

She comes from behind me, I smell her scent first, then her warmth, the electricity that is always present as with magnets when we are close, the crackle smell of ozone in the calm after lightening strikes. My breath leaves a condensation on the glass, misting the view and bringing me back to the room.

She wraps her arms around my neck and pushes her lips, slightly parted, against the side of my ear with a butterfly’s glance.

I feel protected and safe in a way that all the guns in the world could never offer. More than this, I feel loved.

‘It’s time to go’, she whispers.

‘I know…’, is all I can say, looking down below through the rain-stained glass at the people hurrying out of the deluge.  A cat makes a break for it from under a parked car, darting between the falling dagger raindrops, and finding safety under a shop awning it hisses at the rain like a Cat Canute.

This moment is so enveloping and warm inside her arms, so total and complete that I can’t move. The vibrations of every atom in our bodies and then the entire room itself align and dissolve into pure charged energy.  I press my palm to the window, half believing my hand will pass through our suddenly unified matter, but the glass is cold to the touch and like a beautiful painting frozen in space.

Her head tracks round to my other ear, the movement releasing more of her scent curling round my collar up to my nostrils. I inhale long and deep.

‘So… What’s on your mind, G?’, she whispers, breath all orange blossom and lemonade bubbles.

I twist round in her arms and look into her eyes, her hands moving down to my waist in the turn. Her pupils are dilated reflecting the neon rain and I see my own dark outline in their centre, but I don’t care, I know I’m always inside her, as she is in me. Time slows, the rain hangs in the air suspended and twinkling, the overhead fan slows to the revolutions of a summer’s windmill.

 I could stare, I could stay… forever.

Her lip curls up just a little in a half smile, her head tilting gently to the side as she speaks, always softly as if retelling a sweet dream to me.

‘It’s time to go…’

And she’s right…

 

 

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