Flashback #1
I rolled over in bed and accidentally hit him. Hard. I jammed an elbow in his back and promised myself that I'd apologize in the morning. I rolled over, unable to sleep. I watched the ceiling fan swirl around. I felt warm, so warm that I wanted to crack open a window, but that would be fruitless, damn that painted shut window. He stirred and I felt myself tense up. It'd been some time since I last shared a bed. Maybe too long. Every move seems to take me from edge where sleep lay. Dammit dammit dammit.
I turn around, brush the hair out of my eyes, and stare at his back, and watch him breathe. The ceiling fan shushes me over and over, and I scoot over closer and rest my cheek on his back. I tuck my legs behind his. He grabs my hand and pulls it around him. It now rests on his chest. Heartbeat. I hold my breath for a minute and wonder if he always does this, or is it just me.
"That hurt. Don't even say you're sorry." I heard him smile.
"Sorry." I moved closer. He did too.
The ceiling fan shushed us to sleep.
Tuesday, April 23, 2002
I like long walks, especially when they're taken by people who annoy me. ~Fred Allen
Voodoo is del.icio.us
If I haven't already said it, thanks for stopping by.
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