Bananas are awfully phallic.
I cant believe youve never had a chocolate banana smoothie before. Sienna said to me as she peeled another long, yellow, fruity penis.
I shrugged. They dont pop up on menus as often as youd think. I told her, taking the block of Cadbury chocolate from Betty Evolos fridge and breaking it open.
Sienna had decided to come around before she took me out to the club she worked at. She was wearing a pair of cuffed black denim shorts that stretched to her mid thigh over leopard print leggings. Above all that was a grey, loose singlet top with the words Hear Me In November stamped on it in block letters under a black leather jacket.
Her long red and orange-highlighted hair was held up with a black and white bandana.
She tossed another banana peel into the bin and looked over her shoulder at me. The corners of her red painted lips curled up in a soft smile and she outstretched her bangle-coated arm and offered her hand to me.
I stared at her a moment, and then blinked and shook my head. Sorry, I passed the chocolate to her and she grinned turning back to the kitchen bench.
What for?
Brain-fart. I told her and moved to the door to Bettys room which was open a crack, and peered in.
Dont apologize for mental flatulence. She said. Apologize for your beverage-ignorance.
Betty was sleeping again. The nurse was in the laundry, cleaning vomit off her shirt. Apparently Betty wasnt doing so well today. I pulled the door shut and turned back toward Sienna, who was now filling the blender with banana.
I apologize, I said to her and walked back over. I wiped my hands on my black jeans and tugged the bottom of my grey sweater further down over my hips. I never said anything to her, but Siennas dress sense intimidated me.
So, are these things really that good? I asked her as I broke up the chocolate block and dropped them into the blender.
Oh, dude, theyre amazing. She said and went the fridge, getting the carton of milk and pulling it open. Seriously, if I could drink one thing until doomsday, itd be banana chocolate smoothies.
This is an Armageddon drink, then? I asked, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard.
Oh yeah. She said, and began pouring the carton into the blender. I watched as the white liquid cascaded over the hard chocolate rocks and the soft, yellow fruit. Armageddon She paused, and looked at me; but with milk.
She smirked and we blended the drink.
I guess it was okay.
I guess its pretty awesome. I said, licking my lips while I took another sip of the tall baby-sick yellow drink while Sienna flipped through the CDs on the shelf in my bedroom.
Immaculate. She corrected. Whos Lisa Mitchell? she asked, taking one of the CDs out of the rack.
I looked over from my sitting place at the window and shrugged. Just some chick singer. I explained before looking back out the window into the dreary, grey and wet afternoon.
I squinted and reached over, pulling back the frail white curtains to peer better out the window at the man standing in Siennas back yard. He was tall, and I suppose he was handsome, with short, well-kempt black hair and a face covered in a light stubble.
He was digging a hole with his bare hands, and shovelling the moist, brown earth into a pile next to him.
Whos that?
I dunno, chick, its your CD.
No, in your backyard. I said, and looked over at Sienna who was engrossed in reading the track list on one of my records. Who is that?
She turned around and walked over to the window, leaning across me so close I could smell her shampoo. Shr brushed my finger tips with hers as she pulled the curtain further open for me.
She kept staring at the back yard for a moment, and I looked up to her, waiting for recognition or fright to spring across her face. My eyes slipped down, just a little, to the smooth nape of her neck and the soft form of the tops of her breasts that snuck out of her singlet top.
But my eyes caught something else.
Just above the line of her cleavage, she had a thick, rounded scar that was shaped into a heart. It was in the very centre of her chest, and was so perfectly formed that it had to have been done on purpose.
Im not sure if she knew what I was staring at, but she looked back to me fore more than a few seconds before she spoke.
Thats Richard. She said, and my eyes jumped up to hers. My roommate. She smiled at me and stood up again, turning around and walking back to my CD collection.
I wanted to ask her about her heart-scar. But I didnt.
Whats he digging for?
I dunno. She licked the air at me. Youd have to ask him.
I looked back outside to Richard and his progressively larger hole. I heard Sienna drop one of my CD cases, and it clattered on the floor. She apologized with a curse.
Shit. I bent down to pick up the dollar Id dropped, my black canvas bag slipped down over my shoulder like it always did went I leaned too far forward. I grunted and viciously pushed it back over my arm as I stood up, the gold coin clasped tightly in my fist as I sauntered toward the long line of Washing Machines.
The cars on the road directly outside the public laundry let out an industrial crescendo as they drove past. At this point Id been staying with a friend of my Mothers in Brunswick for about three weeks. Shed always been nice to me, and shed told my mother that I was with her, I was safe, and that I also didnt want to speak to either of my parents right now.
Her name was Kayla, and she was a High School guidance councillor. So yeah, I suppose it worked out really well, because in a lot of ways she knew, or at least, understood somehow what I was feeling. She never tried to do that pretentious adult thing where they say they understand you, but are really just looking down their noses.
I had one of those plastic laundry bags with the blue, red and white checks on it. I never gave much thought to where people bought them from, Kayla had leant them too me. Everyone had these bags.
Mine was crumpled up on the floor next to the machine Id been using. Itd stopped now, the cycle finished. Except it had given me something in addition to sopping wet clothing: A girl was sitting on top of the washing machine. My washing machine. She wore a pair of tight jeans, and a tank-top that belonged to one of those trashy brands you buy at Cotton On or Supre.
I grumbled inside again and my heavy boots clumped over the lino as I paced toward her. She was sitting on my washing machine. Fuck off.
Her long dark hair was pulled into a pony tail at an angle near the back of her head. She had tan skin, which looked healthy enough on her exposed arms and neck, but she had a fairly obvious layer of foundation on her face, eyes lined and lips painted in a colour that matched her skin tone. She flipped the page in her magazine, only glancing up at me briefly.
She looked up again when I stopped in front of her.
Yeah?
Youre on my washer. I said bluntly.
She looked down to where her ass was cradled on the top of the off-white machinery, and slipped off. Shit. Sorry. It wasnt on when I walked in.
Her appearance had suggested to me that shed have been less nice about it. I didnt like that. Her not living up to my expectations, I mean. Yeah. Well. I said and opened the lid of the washer before shed had time to properly make room for my personal bubble. Its fine. I added a moment later.
She moved along, only a metre or so, leaning back against her own washer that rumbled lowly, lifting her magazine up to her face again and folding it in half. My eyes peered over scantily, and I noticed she was reading the glamour shots from the latest Red Carpet event in America. Figures.
I began pulling my clothes from the machine in wet clumps. The first of which forced me to hold it with both my skinny arms. The dryer was directly opposite my machine, so I just had to turn around I dump them in. I fingered at the handle of the door, but I couldnt clasp it right away. Fuck, I muttered.
She looked up once, then looked down. When I failed at it a few more times, she put her magazine on the nearby bench and reached over. Here-
Ive got it! I said to her hotly, only just then curling my index finger around the handle and pulling the door open, dumping my heap of washing into the dryer, before turning around to grab what remained.
Okay She replied with a notable sigh, before picking her magazine up again and leaning back against her washer.
I threw the rest of my clothing into the dryer as fast as I could, then closed the washer and pushed the dryer door shut.
Excuse me? she asked. I rolled my eyes and looked over my shoulder.
What?
She held my gaze for a moment, and made a look that suggested she was having second thoughts about whatever it was she was going to say. She pointed to the floor. Your sock.
I looked down at the stray purple and black sock that was lying on the floor. There was a hole near the tip. I picked it up and threw it into the machine with a flick of my wrist before pointedly slamming the door.
I saw her raise her brows to herself as her eyes scanned the glamour page. Smug bitch.
I sighed and folded my arms, leaning back against the dryer after setting it and depositing my coins. I starred at the floor for a while, pondering, feeling the rolling, warm rumble of the machine behind me.
I tried to remember how much change I had in my pocket from the money Kayla had given me to do the laundry. I wasnt quite sure if it was enough to grab a coke from the machine in the corner. I also wanted a cigarette but my pouch was running low.
Slowly, my eyes slithered over to the girl standing nearby. She was still lost in her entertainment weekly bullshit. I found her face somewhere behind the thin veil of hair. Shed be attractive if she didnt plaster so much fucking makeup on.
Her machine entered its second cycle and rumbled a little louder. It shook a bit more to. I could see the girls cleavage wobbling back and forth in her tank top. I looked away. She had a lot more than me.
the taste of a poison paradise
I looked back to her as her phone started playing some pop song. She dropped her magazine on the table and pulled her phone out. She hit a button and held it to her ear. Hey, sup?
I hated her. Sup? Really?
Yeah, hold on a sec, I can barely hear you She began to talk away, holding the phone by her side. She turned after shed taken a couple of steps and looked to me. Hey um could you watch my machine for a moment? I wont be long.
I nodded. Whatever.
She smiled a touch, but it waned as she pulled her eyes away from me and looked down and walked away. She had a cute arse.
I scratched my head and sighed, closing my eyes and letting the machine rumble take me again. Id only been standing there five seconds or so when the door opened and the girl walked back in.
She was cursing and eyeing her phone. I hate the service out here. Always messes up. She said to me, looking up. Why did she try so fucking hard to be friendly? Thanks anyway.
She put her phone away.
I shrugged and went back to looking at the floor.
Hey, do you think Shia LeBouf is hot? She asked me out of nowhere, already engrossed in her magazine again. My friend raves about him, but I just dont see the attraction.
Shut up you snide whore. No. I dont.
He looks too womanly. She said after a few moments. She hadnt looked. Her tits were vibrating again. If youre gonna be with a guy, he has to be all hairy and muscle-y and stuff. Otherwise youd might as well just Come Out, you know?
I sighed. Im not really into you know talking?
She looked up then. Oh. Sorry. She wasnt sarcastic when she apologized. I narrowed my eyes. She was supposed to be. She was supposed to be like; oh jeez! Im like, so sorry!
But she wasnt.
I mean. With strangers. I said after a few seconds, meeting her eyes again. Talking with strangers.
Then whats your name? she asked.
Alex.
Im Morgan. She held her hand out, smiling genuinely to me with her porcelain teeth.
I slipped mine into hers. She had nicer skin than me.
She had a lot of things nicer than me.
That probably one of the reasons I fell so desperately in love with her.
Is he coming tonight? I asked Sienna.
Who? She turned around and flopped onto the end of my bed, staring at the ceiling. Richard?
Yeah. I stood up and wandered over to my four-poster, slipping my hand around the nearest red-wood post and looked down at the girl as her eyes found mine.
We lingered on each others poison globes for a few seconds before she spoke. No. She shrugged. Hes not really the party type. Her eyes found their way back to the ceiling.
To be honest, Ive never really been the party type either. I sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the floor.
Why? Went through a dyke-y Lesbos goth phase? She asked with a pretentious snicker.
I didnt reply right away. Kinda. I said. A few seconds rolled by in silence before I turned around, pulling my legs under me and I looked down on her. Her eyes were transfixed with the roof. How did you know Im gay?
She giggled again, bloody lips peeling back over pearl fangs. Please, Alex. I can practically smell it on you.
She looked back to me again. More silence.
Oh. I murmured.
Its not like youre an obvious clit-fiend or anything. She said aloofly, Im pretty intuitive like that. Im like a ray gun of gay-detection. She looked back to the ceiling. And I probably have missiles.
I couldnt help but grin and let out one of those half-hearted little exhale-laughs where you dont really laugh. Sometimes the things Sienna said made no sense, and nothing but sense at the same time.
Are I began but decided to lay back next to her and mesmerize myself with the ceiling as well. Are you?
We laid there together for a bit, while my eyes traced the marks left in the planks of wood on the ceiling and my imagination saw weird faces in the lines and circles that naturally appeared in them.
I dont think so. She said at last. She turned her head to me. I mean, everyone is a little gay.
I turned my head to look at her. Red swashes of hair fell over her pretty face as we starred at one another. Some of us more than others. I added.
Yeah. She spoke softly. Like Jedi apprentices and Jedi masters. She looked to the side and blinked, then looked back. Sorry, Im in a sci-fi train of thought today.
Its fine.
Cool.
I looked back at the roof and so did she.
Whats in the attic? She asked.
I have an attic?
Yeah dude. Your ceiling in here is flat. But the roof of the house is triangular. And that hallway outside is so short that the door with the golden knob must have a staircase behind it.
I pondered all that. Oh. I guess I do have an attic.
Congratulations. She whispered. Thank my principles of detection if you like.
Thank you Siennas principles of detection. I murmured.
Why are we both whispering? She asked me, in a whisper.
I dont know. I replied in kind.
Wanna nap before we leave?
Yes.
She curled her arms around my waist and I rolled over until she pulled me into her, spooning with me softly, she planted her red lips on the back of my neck and I slipped slowly into a world of dreams just after the sandman kissed my eyes.
I cant believe youve never had a chocolate banana smoothie before. Sienna said to me as she peeled another long, yellow, fruity penis.
I shrugged. They dont pop up on menus as often as youd think. I told her, taking the block of Cadbury chocolate from Betty Evolos fridge and breaking it open.
Sienna had decided to come around before she took me out to the club she worked at. She was wearing a pair of cuffed black denim shorts that stretched to her mid thigh over leopard print leggings. Above all that was a grey, loose singlet top with the words Hear Me In November stamped on it in block letters under a black leather jacket.
Her long red and orange-highlighted hair was held up with a black and white bandana.
She tossed another banana peel into the bin and looked over her shoulder at me. The corners of her red painted lips curled up in a soft smile and she outstretched her bangle-coated arm and offered her hand to me.
I stared at her a moment, and then blinked and shook my head. Sorry, I passed the chocolate to her and she grinned turning back to the kitchen bench.
What for?
Brain-fart. I told her and moved to the door to Bettys room which was open a crack, and peered in.
Dont apologize for mental flatulence. She said. Apologize for your beverage-ignorance.
Betty was sleeping again. The nurse was in the laundry, cleaning vomit off her shirt. Apparently Betty wasnt doing so well today. I pulled the door shut and turned back toward Sienna, who was now filling the blender with banana.
I apologize, I said to her and walked back over. I wiped my hands on my black jeans and tugged the bottom of my grey sweater further down over my hips. I never said anything to her, but Siennas dress sense intimidated me.
So, are these things really that good? I asked her as I broke up the chocolate block and dropped them into the blender.
Oh, dude, theyre amazing. She said and went the fridge, getting the carton of milk and pulling it open. Seriously, if I could drink one thing until doomsday, itd be banana chocolate smoothies.
This is an Armageddon drink, then? I asked, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard.
Oh yeah. She said, and began pouring the carton into the blender. I watched as the white liquid cascaded over the hard chocolate rocks and the soft, yellow fruit. Armageddon She paused, and looked at me; but with milk.
She smirked and we blended the drink.
I guess it was okay.
I guess its pretty awesome. I said, licking my lips while I took another sip of the tall baby-sick yellow drink while Sienna flipped through the CDs on the shelf in my bedroom.
Immaculate. She corrected. Whos Lisa Mitchell? she asked, taking one of the CDs out of the rack.
I looked over from my sitting place at the window and shrugged. Just some chick singer. I explained before looking back out the window into the dreary, grey and wet afternoon.
I squinted and reached over, pulling back the frail white curtains to peer better out the window at the man standing in Siennas back yard. He was tall, and I suppose he was handsome, with short, well-kempt black hair and a face covered in a light stubble.
He was digging a hole with his bare hands, and shovelling the moist, brown earth into a pile next to him.
Whos that?
I dunno, chick, its your CD.
No, in your backyard. I said, and looked over at Sienna who was engrossed in reading the track list on one of my records. Who is that?
She turned around and walked over to the window, leaning across me so close I could smell her shampoo. Shr brushed my finger tips with hers as she pulled the curtain further open for me.
She kept staring at the back yard for a moment, and I looked up to her, waiting for recognition or fright to spring across her face. My eyes slipped down, just a little, to the smooth nape of her neck and the soft form of the tops of her breasts that snuck out of her singlet top.
But my eyes caught something else.
Just above the line of her cleavage, she had a thick, rounded scar that was shaped into a heart. It was in the very centre of her chest, and was so perfectly formed that it had to have been done on purpose.
Im not sure if she knew what I was staring at, but she looked back to me fore more than a few seconds before she spoke.
Thats Richard. She said, and my eyes jumped up to hers. My roommate. She smiled at me and stood up again, turning around and walking back to my CD collection.
I wanted to ask her about her heart-scar. But I didnt.
Whats he digging for?
I dunno. She licked the air at me. Youd have to ask him.
I looked back outside to Richard and his progressively larger hole. I heard Sienna drop one of my CD cases, and it clattered on the floor. She apologized with a curse.
Shit. I bent down to pick up the dollar Id dropped, my black canvas bag slipped down over my shoulder like it always did went I leaned too far forward. I grunted and viciously pushed it back over my arm as I stood up, the gold coin clasped tightly in my fist as I sauntered toward the long line of Washing Machines.
The cars on the road directly outside the public laundry let out an industrial crescendo as they drove past. At this point Id been staying with a friend of my Mothers in Brunswick for about three weeks. Shed always been nice to me, and shed told my mother that I was with her, I was safe, and that I also didnt want to speak to either of my parents right now.
Her name was Kayla, and she was a High School guidance councillor. So yeah, I suppose it worked out really well, because in a lot of ways she knew, or at least, understood somehow what I was feeling. She never tried to do that pretentious adult thing where they say they understand you, but are really just looking down their noses.
I had one of those plastic laundry bags with the blue, red and white checks on it. I never gave much thought to where people bought them from, Kayla had leant them too me. Everyone had these bags.
Mine was crumpled up on the floor next to the machine Id been using. Itd stopped now, the cycle finished. Except it had given me something in addition to sopping wet clothing: A girl was sitting on top of the washing machine. My washing machine. She wore a pair of tight jeans, and a tank-top that belonged to one of those trashy brands you buy at Cotton On or Supre.
I grumbled inside again and my heavy boots clumped over the lino as I paced toward her. She was sitting on my washing machine. Fuck off.
Her long dark hair was pulled into a pony tail at an angle near the back of her head. She had tan skin, which looked healthy enough on her exposed arms and neck, but she had a fairly obvious layer of foundation on her face, eyes lined and lips painted in a colour that matched her skin tone. She flipped the page in her magazine, only glancing up at me briefly.
She looked up again when I stopped in front of her.
Yeah?
Youre on my washer. I said bluntly.
She looked down to where her ass was cradled on the top of the off-white machinery, and slipped off. Shit. Sorry. It wasnt on when I walked in.
Her appearance had suggested to me that shed have been less nice about it. I didnt like that. Her not living up to my expectations, I mean. Yeah. Well. I said and opened the lid of the washer before shed had time to properly make room for my personal bubble. Its fine. I added a moment later.
She moved along, only a metre or so, leaning back against her own washer that rumbled lowly, lifting her magazine up to her face again and folding it in half. My eyes peered over scantily, and I noticed she was reading the glamour shots from the latest Red Carpet event in America. Figures.
I began pulling my clothes from the machine in wet clumps. The first of which forced me to hold it with both my skinny arms. The dryer was directly opposite my machine, so I just had to turn around I dump them in. I fingered at the handle of the door, but I couldnt clasp it right away. Fuck, I muttered.
She looked up once, then looked down. When I failed at it a few more times, she put her magazine on the nearby bench and reached over. Here-
Ive got it! I said to her hotly, only just then curling my index finger around the handle and pulling the door open, dumping my heap of washing into the dryer, before turning around to grab what remained.
Okay She replied with a notable sigh, before picking her magazine up again and leaning back against her washer.
I threw the rest of my clothing into the dryer as fast as I could, then closed the washer and pushed the dryer door shut.
Excuse me? she asked. I rolled my eyes and looked over my shoulder.
What?
She held my gaze for a moment, and made a look that suggested she was having second thoughts about whatever it was she was going to say. She pointed to the floor. Your sock.
I looked down at the stray purple and black sock that was lying on the floor. There was a hole near the tip. I picked it up and threw it into the machine with a flick of my wrist before pointedly slamming the door.
I saw her raise her brows to herself as her eyes scanned the glamour page. Smug bitch.
I sighed and folded my arms, leaning back against the dryer after setting it and depositing my coins. I starred at the floor for a while, pondering, feeling the rolling, warm rumble of the machine behind me.
I tried to remember how much change I had in my pocket from the money Kayla had given me to do the laundry. I wasnt quite sure if it was enough to grab a coke from the machine in the corner. I also wanted a cigarette but my pouch was running low.
Slowly, my eyes slithered over to the girl standing nearby. She was still lost in her entertainment weekly bullshit. I found her face somewhere behind the thin veil of hair. Shed be attractive if she didnt plaster so much fucking makeup on.
Her machine entered its second cycle and rumbled a little louder. It shook a bit more to. I could see the girls cleavage wobbling back and forth in her tank top. I looked away. She had a lot more than me.
the taste of a poison paradise
I looked back to her as her phone started playing some pop song. She dropped her magazine on the table and pulled her phone out. She hit a button and held it to her ear. Hey, sup?
I hated her. Sup? Really?
Yeah, hold on a sec, I can barely hear you She began to talk away, holding the phone by her side. She turned after shed taken a couple of steps and looked to me. Hey um could you watch my machine for a moment? I wont be long.
I nodded. Whatever.
She smiled a touch, but it waned as she pulled her eyes away from me and looked down and walked away. She had a cute arse.
I scratched my head and sighed, closing my eyes and letting the machine rumble take me again. Id only been standing there five seconds or so when the door opened and the girl walked back in.
She was cursing and eyeing her phone. I hate the service out here. Always messes up. She said to me, looking up. Why did she try so fucking hard to be friendly? Thanks anyway.
She put her phone away.
I shrugged and went back to looking at the floor.
Hey, do you think Shia LeBouf is hot? She asked me out of nowhere, already engrossed in her magazine again. My friend raves about him, but I just dont see the attraction.
Shut up you snide whore. No. I dont.
He looks too womanly. She said after a few moments. She hadnt looked. Her tits were vibrating again. If youre gonna be with a guy, he has to be all hairy and muscle-y and stuff. Otherwise youd might as well just Come Out, you know?
I sighed. Im not really into you know talking?
She looked up then. Oh. Sorry. She wasnt sarcastic when she apologized. I narrowed my eyes. She was supposed to be. She was supposed to be like; oh jeez! Im like, so sorry!
But she wasnt.
I mean. With strangers. I said after a few seconds, meeting her eyes again. Talking with strangers.
Then whats your name? she asked.
Alex.
Im Morgan. She held her hand out, smiling genuinely to me with her porcelain teeth.
I slipped mine into hers. She had nicer skin than me.
She had a lot of things nicer than me.
That probably one of the reasons I fell so desperately in love with her.
Is he coming tonight? I asked Sienna.
Who? She turned around and flopped onto the end of my bed, staring at the ceiling. Richard?
Yeah. I stood up and wandered over to my four-poster, slipping my hand around the nearest red-wood post and looked down at the girl as her eyes found mine.
We lingered on each others poison globes for a few seconds before she spoke. No. She shrugged. Hes not really the party type. Her eyes found their way back to the ceiling.
To be honest, Ive never really been the party type either. I sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the floor.
Why? Went through a dyke-y Lesbos goth phase? She asked with a pretentious snicker.
I didnt reply right away. Kinda. I said. A few seconds rolled by in silence before I turned around, pulling my legs under me and I looked down on her. Her eyes were transfixed with the roof. How did you know Im gay?
She giggled again, bloody lips peeling back over pearl fangs. Please, Alex. I can practically smell it on you.
She looked back to me again. More silence.
Oh. I murmured.
Its not like youre an obvious clit-fiend or anything. She said aloofly, Im pretty intuitive like that. Im like a ray gun of gay-detection. She looked back to the ceiling. And I probably have missiles.
I couldnt help but grin and let out one of those half-hearted little exhale-laughs where you dont really laugh. Sometimes the things Sienna said made no sense, and nothing but sense at the same time.
Are I began but decided to lay back next to her and mesmerize myself with the ceiling as well. Are you?
We laid there together for a bit, while my eyes traced the marks left in the planks of wood on the ceiling and my imagination saw weird faces in the lines and circles that naturally appeared in them.
I dont think so. She said at last. She turned her head to me. I mean, everyone is a little gay.
I turned my head to look at her. Red swashes of hair fell over her pretty face as we starred at one another. Some of us more than others. I added.
Yeah. She spoke softly. Like Jedi apprentices and Jedi masters. She looked to the side and blinked, then looked back. Sorry, Im in a sci-fi train of thought today.
Its fine.
Cool.
I looked back at the roof and so did she.
Whats in the attic? She asked.
I have an attic?
Yeah dude. Your ceiling in here is flat. But the roof of the house is triangular. And that hallway outside is so short that the door with the golden knob must have a staircase behind it.
I pondered all that. Oh. I guess I do have an attic.
Congratulations. She whispered. Thank my principles of detection if you like.
Thank you Siennas principles of detection. I murmured.
Why are we both whispering? She asked me, in a whisper.
I dont know. I replied in kind.
Wanna nap before we leave?
Yes.
She curled her arms around my waist and I rolled over until she pulled me into her, spooning with me softly, she planted her red lips on the back of my neck and I slipped slowly into a world of dreams just after the sandman kissed my eyes.
comixbookgurl:
wow
strangecolour22:
What, at the length, or the content?