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There are Three Things
by Thomas Ajax
28/05/12
28/05/12
There are three things the human brain cannot resist noticing: food, attractive people, and danger. So you can’t blame me for looking as she approached. Hips swaying like sea waves, a perfect bosom, not large but tastefully beautiful, and the thin red dress which held the whole ensemble together. My eyes were imprisoned the moment they glimpsed her. Balancing on her left palm, high above her bouncy blonde curls, sat a tray of fries and a couple of martinis. And below her delicate fringe were a pair of grey-blue eyes. I should have known then that a place that serves fries and martinis on the same tray was dodgy, but I was already a fly in the web.
“Your fries babe,” she said setting down a small basket of them on my table. Her voice was smooth like chocolate, not husky or dark but rich and sweet. I know I couldn’t afford her, but I knew I needed her. Then I knew I was staring. I babbled like a goon, fell quiet, and smiled, accepting my fries. It was her smile which mimicked mine that made me smile more. This must have added to the aura of weird that surrounded me.
She left with the pair of martinis and I caught a glimpse of her backside disappearing into the crowd. I was sat in the centre of the club; it was a nice looking place: low lighting, a live band in the corner playing Sinatra’s greatest hits, and candles on each table. There was a dance floor ahead of the band, it was full. It was Friday night after all.
I’d just got out of work. One of those skyscrapers. I could tell you what I do, but you’d probably die of boredom. I was there alone; I just wanted a place with beer. I could have gone anywhere, though this place looked nice. It was a bit out of my way in a better part of town but it was worth it for that smile.
I ate my fries and drank my beer in relative peace, taking in everything. The dancers, all couples, slow dancing like it was 1939. Germany had just marched into Poland and the lights were switching off all over Europe. Everyone held their partners close and held them close wishing that time would stop and they wouldn’t go, they wouldn’t leave that place, they wouldn’t go to war. There wasn’t a war on now, but that’s just how it felt.
The beer bottles started to double, then triple. I knew if I kept ordering them then she would have to bring one of them eventually. This seemed like a good idea at the time, but my brain was slowing down from all the alcohol and my wallet was getting much lighter.
“Fly me to the Moon, let me play among the stars,” the band sprang into action. The dance floor turned into a mixture of synchronised swimming and a feeding frenzy. It was late, and it was the closing number. Everyone was hot and having fun, and I sat there hammered and longing after a woman I saw only hours ago.
I think it was her eyes.
“Hooold my hand,” and I felt a small hand clasp onto mine and drag me to my feet, into an erotic embrace. I don’t quite know what happened, it was all a daze. “Ba-bee kiss me,” I heard the singer’s words and I felt the brilliant lips on my own and I prayed to God that when I focused my eyes those eyes would be looking back at me. The kiss was long, but like all good things, it ended.
There they were the grey-blue eyes beneath the fringe of long bouncy blonde curls. How, why, what the fuck? I know I was drunk, but what was happening? Was it happening? My drunken haze continued. The girl swayed her wavy hips and I took in all her curves and curls. She was perfect. Which is why when I woke up I wondered who had killed her...
“Your fries babe,” she said setting down a small basket of them on my table. Her voice was smooth like chocolate, not husky or dark but rich and sweet. I know I couldn’t afford her, but I knew I needed her. Then I knew I was staring. I babbled like a goon, fell quiet, and smiled, accepting my fries. It was her smile which mimicked mine that made me smile more. This must have added to the aura of weird that surrounded me.
She left with the pair of martinis and I caught a glimpse of her backside disappearing into the crowd. I was sat in the centre of the club; it was a nice looking place: low lighting, a live band in the corner playing Sinatra’s greatest hits, and candles on each table. There was a dance floor ahead of the band, it was full. It was Friday night after all.
I’d just got out of work. One of those skyscrapers. I could tell you what I do, but you’d probably die of boredom. I was there alone; I just wanted a place with beer. I could have gone anywhere, though this place looked nice. It was a bit out of my way in a better part of town but it was worth it for that smile.
I ate my fries and drank my beer in relative peace, taking in everything. The dancers, all couples, slow dancing like it was 1939. Germany had just marched into Poland and the lights were switching off all over Europe. Everyone held their partners close and held them close wishing that time would stop and they wouldn’t go, they wouldn’t leave that place, they wouldn’t go to war. There wasn’t a war on now, but that’s just how it felt.
The beer bottles started to double, then triple. I knew if I kept ordering them then she would have to bring one of them eventually. This seemed like a good idea at the time, but my brain was slowing down from all the alcohol and my wallet was getting much lighter.
“Fly me to the Moon, let me play among the stars,” the band sprang into action. The dance floor turned into a mixture of synchronised swimming and a feeding frenzy. It was late, and it was the closing number. Everyone was hot and having fun, and I sat there hammered and longing after a woman I saw only hours ago.
I think it was her eyes.
“Hooold my hand,” and I felt a small hand clasp onto mine and drag me to my feet, into an erotic embrace. I don’t quite know what happened, it was all a daze. “Ba-bee kiss me,” I heard the singer’s words and I felt the brilliant lips on my own and I prayed to God that when I focused my eyes those eyes would be looking back at me. The kiss was long, but like all good things, it ended.
There they were the grey-blue eyes beneath the fringe of long bouncy blonde curls. How, why, what the fuck? I know I was drunk, but what was happening? Was it happening? My drunken haze continued. The girl swayed her wavy hips and I took in all her curves and curls. She was perfect. Which is why when I woke up I wondered who had killed her...
