I’ve dreamt about shooting people and then drinking tea in the morning, watching Alison play with the sugar cubes before killing them off with tea, but then maybe they just produce sugary tea?
I wonder if she would dye her hair and how short would her hair be once more or would it, do girls go in the past with the hair?
I wonder how would our first kiss go even if we’re past it and is it a good thing that I can’t recall, so I kiss her again and her head is literally in the bowl. It’s as if it’s the treat in the cereal box so I pull her by the hair a bit and her lips are swollen in milk.
I wonder how she feels to go in the streets and past that juggling hobo in the doorway of the closed cafe at night, would she stare at him?
She sings more and our doors are locked, but we lose track of time, so we just wobble into Tesco and the expiry dates give us a sense of time.
I tell her that we’ll marry and she asks me if we’ll have kids and I think for a good while and I stop playing for a few days, it’s this numb inspiration as I kiss her body straight from the shower and play with her hair a bit, because there is no dialogue in memories, not the exact one, maybe a few quotes pop in from while to while, some minor ones like
“Do you want grapes?” And I’d see her sit on the couch, eating the grapes, slowly, bursting some in her hands, her hair growing and sometimes we both look at the scissors and I kiss her forehead.
We have sex, but it’s not mutual, I try to turn off my mind if she’s on top, while she just studies my body if I’m on top, it’s as if we try talking to ourselves more and more.
She used to watch me choose vinyls just by their sleeves and she’d just stand there and then she started telling me which ones she wanted and then we slowly started talking and she said she liked kiwis.
We bought some kiwis and sat on the carpet, the guitar making a third person and I just pressed my head against her shoulder, digging my head in to reach her skin and we just sat there.
The first few songs were done on that evening, with my head touching her skin and she’d just lull me with her music until I put the guitar down and curled near her, pulling her towards me and if the expire dates are right we should reach December soon.
We buy a small Christmas Tree and Alison buys little plastic Jesuses, which look a bit scary and I think we should use them for easter and she laughs, hanging my sock instead of a star and kiwis, which she didn’t eat yet but the Jesuses give me nightmares for a bit and I tell her I love her before I go to sleep, a little prayer and Santa feels like Jesus now all of a sudden, so when she falls asleep for Christmas, I wait for Jesus.
I don’t find God, do I?
So I just smoke, the stale beer in my throat and Alison in my arms, maybe jesus is supposed to be the love we kill, so I just lean to have another year with the purity.
I invite a few friends over for New Years, but we end up escaping into the small bathroom and we sit staring at each other and when the countdown comes we don’t kiss, she hugs me and I nuzzle her neck, her touch faint yet her lips find me and the kiss is deep and I won’t know who made out with who this year and who woke up in whose bed, as we stay in the bathroom, counting the tiles drunk and penetrating a few times and there’s is too much love, so we fall asleep in a lukewarm bathtub, naked, sitting up, arms spread for the world to nibble.
I dream of a stage and her hair and fucking her afterwards, so we wake and make love or fuck.
My parents come over, they stay and go with Alison talking to my dad a lot and laughing that I look more like my mother, which I don’t, I look like my dad, but it doesn’t matter, so I smoke with her twice when they leave and we smile.
Maybe we are married after all.
I'm currently taking over their 4 year period when Alison is just living with Jamie, unfortunately, there is not much known, but then this is fiction and I hope you enjoy it.
I've seen the juggling hobo. He is real, just in front of something else, but yeah, he is real.
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