Fiction
16 Apr 2018


"My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains"

His mind wandered as he sat idlying, staring at the ceiling as the noises from the en suite continued.

He'd been naked for some time and sat absent mindedly gripping the thick carpet with his toes and feet and periodically clawing it to feel more.

How long had he been here ?

"That I may drink, and leave the world unseen"

He reached for the source of his numbness, novocaine sadly wasn't legal or readily available but he'd found the icy gin just dandy, the black pepper delicious on his lips and tongue as he sipped. Painting by numbers is prevalent every where in life so he deviated at every chance and the cocktail he'd mixed for himself was unique in that the doses were liberal and distinct to that particular pour.

Roll the dice, pour, let the universe decide.

He simply trusted, smiled and satisfied his thirst with what she had given.

His mind conjured another image of deep dense woods, the smell of the pines all around him, the feel of the foliage beneath his bare feet and the chilled air surrounding his body and on his lungs as he inhaled deeply. Ancient places with timeless memories surrounding him, these dark giant strangers protecting one another and allowing him to weave his way through them, his hands stroking their exteriors, searching aimlessly for their heart, listening to their collective laments as he wandered without purpose. They'd made him feel small, welcome, protected and helped him realise the comfort of his impermiance. These beings had been here before him and his footsteps and the shadows he cast and would stand tall into into a future without him.

"Here, where men sit and hear each other groan"

The bar had been busy as he'd approached it downstairs to source himself a drink.

People invariably presenting their thoughts as if they mattered. People listening but nobody hearing one another.

Incapable of ever recalling anything other than how they feel, but passionately presenting their ideas, ideals, protestations but but missing the key point that none of it matters. Nobody is listening. We're all alone moving together towards the inevitable.

In this world of emperors and clowns, dressed in a variety of constumes nobody had anything to say and the young bar staff had spent more time checking their phones or hair than serving drinks.

Amused, he'd wandered away remembering the bottle of gin he'd procured on his travels to this, the city of roses. He laughed to himself as he walked away, thinking they were most likely artificial.

"I cannot see what flowers are at my feet"

His bare feet continued to feel the thick carpet underneath. It had been a long flight and despite arriving late in the afternoon when the sun was still strong, he'd felt exhausted and had attempted to reset his body clock in the age old tradition of strong coffee, dark shades and tying one on. She knew him, his nuances and had simply joined in, ignoring his rhetoric that would he'd periodically share about something or other and just enjoying the feeling of the warm sunshine, the people around and his anecdotes and insights. Forever the performer but a darkling like herself.

Staring at his bare feet as he tapped in time with the song he'd had in his head since landing he imagined the places these feet had been, the steps he'd taken in this manifestation, the scar on his left toe from something unseen and beneath made him smile and remember a very different place and time.

"... Life is hard, And so am I, You'd better give me something, So I don't die, Novocaine for the soul, Before I sputter out ....".

"What was that ?" she said.

She stood in front of him naked having undressed and washed away the city.

"A little something to fill a hole, a fading athem for my soul" he said theatrically, bowing low in his seet and placing his drink on the carpet, his eyes not leaving her long legs and the beautiful gap between her thighs and the focus of his attention, her wet labia. "for I am hungry and every beast must feed".

"Was it a vision, or a waking dream?"

Moving with more coordination than a man this far cut should, he closed the space between them instantly and spun her so that she was sitting and then lying back on the end of the bed. She laughed as he moonwalked along the carpet comically in front of her, blowing her a kiss, before casually dropping to his knees on a pillow below her feet. She heard him first. A low groan, as she felt his tongue and lips move up the inside of one shin as his hand held her other leg. His tongue swirled around her knee as she felt gentle kisses on the front of her thigh moving higher. The other hand had moved to the inside of the other thigh and with finger tips was drawing lines up and down her leg. As his lips moved higher, she felt his finger tips on her opposite hip, again faintly drawing circles. A louder groan and the feeling of his tongue lick her outer labia, from the base towards her cliteris he moved delicately savoring her. She noticed her mouth was now open, her mouth dry and the feeling of his hand underneather her lifting her hips gently. His tongue was stroking her deeper now, licking and flicking her, spreading her and nuzzling deep her sex and she responded with a long groan. The feeling of his fingers entering her initially shocked her but rapidly was replaced by the feel of his tongue pressing hard against her cliteris, holding her as she gently pressed her hips up and high against his touches.

She began to shudder, feeling her body pulse and tingle, as his tongue pressed hard against her, his fingers demanding deep within she deliver for him what he craved.

This place, time, space .. nothing matter in this moment, the wide wild world, its perilous seas and fiery fields, was screaming for attention had been silenced and reduced to this moment.

The here and now. The natural touch, the feeding of desires between two people was all that mattered.

He was hungry and she knew how to feed him and he brought her those precious moments of escape over and over.

Sleep is inevitable for us all, but being able to truly listen and feel being awake is a treasure few see, hear, taste and can take. Lost in their own importance, the noise of the here and now and screaming to be heard above it all.