Tuesday, 10 April 2012

What Difference Does It Make2

I smoked a cigarette with her or rather both one cigarette nearly in all silence and she didn’t even take off her coat, her nails against the mobile, a bright green, a bit chipped on the edges and I looked at the floor.

There would be no conversation and she left soon enough.

Paul didn’t call today.

I went to sleep after another cigarette and some salad I had done watching the television for a bit, a quick sip of water and off to bed in the same shirt.

I woke up and put on a tie staring at myself and seeing no meaning for today.

Paul didn’t call.

Alison did asking how were I and just ending the call shortly afterwards.

I dreamt of her holding ice agaisnt a bruised brow and kissing off the ice, holding it between her teeth.

I saw her in a bar the other day, maybe with Hince and I watched her for a bit without Paul and I drank a bit.

I don’t think she noticed me so I just wandered off really.

The next day she noticed me as we just walked on a street, a newspaper under her arm and she had her gold boots on. Most likely she oredered them again and her hair had been a newly dyed pink.

I try to sleep but I fail so I keep smoking until an unlit cigarette just falls out of my fingers and the next day Paul calls me wishing to record and I wonder if that is when not only does spring feel like winter but I get the bruised skin.

I end up talking to Alison.

About vegetarian food, saying that I like dairy and how she had forgotten the taste of milk over the years as she had done it nearly the same time Jamie didm herself still not trying fish.

I wondered if she was fading off Paul and if I were as he just strummed a bit and he headed off for a smoke.

“I’m not sure about Alison.” Paul says before throwing a fag in the bin and I follow him as he leaves out of the room and then I come back to smoke alone, eyes closed wondering a bit about home all of a sudden and the taste of milk and how would it be not to taste a strawberry yoghurt for quite a while for breakfast or in front of youtube or anything really and just relying on fruits which is what I do but with less and I wonder if I should pour the vegan some milk, she’s not with Jamie.

And for a bit I recalled that she had been nineteen, most likely something like a fifteen.

And I headed back in, wondering what would she do if I actually started strumming instead of talking to her.


I'm sorry about the delay and my best excuse would be being on holidays really xD sorry about that and my holidays are nearly over as sad as it is so yeah xD

I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to request further on and thank you

The story is turning somewhere I wasn't really planning it to but most likely my subconsciousness knows what the fuck it's doing xD which is how all my stories end up like anyway



What Difference Does It Make3

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