Saturday, 26 May 2012

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 8

She kicks us out.

And Alison just stands there besides me, her hair tied up behind her in a messy bun, holding my guitar and the guitar case on the floor.

I quickly light a cigarette and give the younger woman a quick drag as I pack the guitar and she stares. We don’t have a studio any more, but at least we rehearsed for a few months and quite a while and the amp plays funny when I plug in it back at home but after a few kicks it’s back to what it was and Alison tells me to cook, flicking through channels, she starts feeling like my own child as she stops on some news channel and then on some pop chart for us to mock it and I look at her.

I love her.

I give us both some bread and make tea as we sit watching the weather forecast for Scotland for absolutely no reason and Alison mentions she’d never been there and I mention Edinburgh and she just nods, her feet digging into my side as the tea seems useless to the hot weather outside as I look at all the flies and even a lazy bee try to be creative by knocking itself down against the fridge and by the end of the day we buy ice lollies and eat both fruit flavoured, no dairy in, so it’s good and we smoke a few cigarettes both rereading any fiction we grabbed on my shelf and spending the evening on television again, not enough money to drink.

We head out to the night and make our way to someone’s back pool an hour later to knock each other in and then head back home, fully dry and I call my ex getting a deal for using her studio for later as Alison just stares at me from behind, maybe praying that I wouldn’t get another woman.

Jealous daughter.

I take a sip of an old whisky bottle we got for her birthday from someone.

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 9

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