For Marie Rebelle
The room is noisy, all around us people laugh and talk, happy to be together in this strange bar in the back streets of south London. Earlier in the evening nerves had kept me quiet, pushing me into myself, making me withdraw from the room as I searched for space in my mind to concentrate on the upcoming task, and yet I couldn’t help watching her. A few times she caught me and smiled back.
When it was my turn to read the silence was consuming, swallowing my words up but I like that, because then it is just me, my words, the story and the memories that it ignites in my flesh.
Now the room has forgotten all that, the atmosphere is more like a party as people finally get to mingle and talk. She is standing right there, talking to someone else but then she turns and we are face to face. I smile, we step closer, there are few whispered words and then we kiss. The chatter of the room seems to dull and it is just her and I but then all too quickly it is over. There are more smiles, talking and finally another promise…. that maybe one day we can do it again and maybe just maybe if things ever pan out there might even be more than just a kiss.
Happy 1st Wicked Wednesday Anniversary
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