Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 9

The snow doesn’t cover the streets.

Play dumb.

The snow doesn’t evena fall instead rain pours down and it’s Christmas for both me and Alison for a split second until we realize that it’s long gone and we just sigh, our heads against each other and I clear my throat before I look outside the bus.

We are traveling from London to Edinburgh the other way round but I still fake it.

“Did you bring the cards?” With a fake accent and after a while I tell Alison that it’s Trainspotting and that we could see Leith for the fuck of it, but it isn’t as scary as it as long as you don’t peek into the bars and the streets are empty with the chains slowly filling up the corners of Edinburgh and giving some expectation that the bars won’t close the same time as Starbucks does.

I press myself closer against the window and I watch the rain and I close my eyes, feeling Alison drift and I wake up and she’s pacing around the bus until she dazes off in the seat in front of me with her hand hanging and pointing towards Scotland.

We wake up we all do and we look at the station as if this is where Renton crawls and we wobble out onto Prince Street with a few fags in hand, bus wasn’t too expensive and crashing at someone with food is better than staying at our own with stale bread, I don’t try to catch the accent and Alison’s seems exotic and we don’t get an umbrella or even a broken one because after the first wind and well, no one has a not broken umbrella here anyway, we end up sitting on a bench under the tree, facing the old centre, the rain blowing out the fags, the trains reminding of comfort which you need to gain someday and I exhale, feeling nothing.

And then I open my eyes to feel Edinburgh stroke me.

It’s good to forget how tense you are and let the corners get soaked in life for a difference and the nothing

Fuck, I didn’t feel nothing and I look at Alison’s glass eyes as she got a joint from somewhere and how she exhales

Sometimes I don’t do drugs

But I take the joint

Just not to feel Scotland and not to feel anything

And consume

The blue edges of life before they get to the core and let me care

I exhale into the blue of the sky and death on the rails below

I am above the trains

I close my eyes

I collapse

And Alison screams

I open my eyes and a pigeon pecks my cheek, disgust is what it leaves with Alison between her legs

Sometimes you don’t get good

She spits out a black substance which turns into bones and heaven to achieve,

.

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 10