Giggling over seafood he entices her to sample the mussels, he draws one up and says ‘it tastes like an orgasm of flavour’.
It slips into his mouth, followed by yummy sounds of appreciation.
Her eyebrows arch in surprise, thinking ‘he’s using sexy words to coax me’
She gives in.
Eyes closed, mouth open, the mussel makes it’s way into her mouth.
“It’s interesting on the palette”, she says, “I’m not sure if I like it as yet”
I found myself in pieces of paraphernalia, in boxes and pictures.
I saw my personality in the form of paper, glue, scissors and everything girlish.
Amusement spreads along my lips, teasing the corners into a smile, there is no reason to keep all of these things… pieces of who I was while growing up.
The photo albums and stickers from school days, a box of straight A report cards that seemed to be promising of a life yet to come.
Old cards, secret love notes and a map for the future, scraps of memory attached to each.
Perusing the list of ambitions, marked out in curly adolescent scribbles ‘When I grown up I want to be a writer’
Her mirror gasped ‘oh no, not you again’
There is no amusement in watching life begin to show its signs on your skin, and smile lines.
‘I need a new age defying moisturizer’, she thinks.
There’s no way to undo times impact on your life.
‘maybe a new heart, mines far to jaded and cynical for love’
A smile breaks onto her face, ‘maybe get a younger boyfriend, I don’t look as old as I am’, she winks at her reflection
It’s weird how emotions will us to accept the fatal flaws of others so we will not hate them, so we will not hate ourselves.
There’s a difference between accepting others, and appeasing our own guilt.
We find ways to convince ourselves that there is space in our lives for hurt and turmoil.
We bend the rules of happiness so it creates a mould to house our discontentment.
Desensitized, we push the limits of our acceptance, until the boundaries blur.
Its weird how we’re so caught up in the process that we never see it happen; things are always viewed better from the outside.
The door creaked open, letting in slivers of light.
The tooth fairy crept into Billy’s room clutching a pair of pliers.
She looked over her shoulder to make sure she had not been followed.
‘Who… who’s there?’, ask Billy, in his quivering little voice.
“I’ve waited too long”, said the toothfairy whilst cranking the pliers.
The silence splinters and Billy knew the time to part with his milk teeth had finally come
The phone rings bringing the clear yet cushy familiar voice.
“It’s me! Its so cold and ugly here, my hands have frozen through leather gloves. I miss home.”
“Where are you?”, I ask
I’m in a store with a phone booth, an Arab man directed me here.
“Can I get you?” I joke, smiling in pained amusement knowing we’re continents apart.
She laughs, “Please!!! The cold is horrific”
Open wide, anesthetic will be quick.
Heart pounding, closed eyes, everything is drowned out by the feeling of the needle penetrating the gum… squeezing mum’s hand.
The worst is yet to come.
What’s the point of wisdom teeth anyway?
The dental assistant places her hands on either side of your head to hold you still, your jaw parts in slow motion and the dentist peeks in.