Until tomorrow, but that’s just some other time :: Under the Covers

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I’m Waiting for the Man (live) :: Echo & The Bunnymen

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They stood out in the rain, no words passing between, just the silent sentiment of a boy handing a girl his jacket to wear. The girl’s hands shook and her lips had gone numb, a translucent purple shade that Cover Girl doesn’t offer. Everything in the girl was longing to go back inside. The boy felt it, too. They both wanted shelter from the storm, yet, together they remained, still standing there, shivering in the cold; and they say it never rains in California.

During the day she could pass off as the shy girl in the third cubicle from the kitchen. She spoke only when spoken to, like some kind of “perfect child” from a fifties parenting book, “See Jane keep her legs crossed, her hands in her lap, her mouth shut unless asked to speak”. She slipped through each day nearly invisible, tapping keystrokes and entering numbers and letters into some endless stream of nothing much at all. She ate lunch out under a tree, book open in her lap, long sleeve over-sized sweater wrapped around her protectively.

No one would guess that it covered up the bruises, or that the days she called in sick, more recently than ever before, had nothing to do with a cold or flu, but the shakes she could no longer quell, or the sleepless days that were strung out like holiday lights, so many sometimes that she could barely stand.

Waiting for the Man (live) :: The Velvet Underground

The boy with the jacket had gifted her this. Addiction wrapped up in plastic and foil, and his half-crooked smile. He had seen something in her, something hidden within the silent gazes and awkward expressions. He saw beauty in her, and an untouched innocence that he could conjure. His touch left ripples of want on her skin, his breath hot on the soft spot at the nape of her neck, and between her legs. He held her down, whispering decisions she could simply follow, a role to play that was miles from the forgettable girl she’d always been.

Excitement hit hard, bursts of freedom, of reckless abandon, of all the things she’d only dreamed she could be. But now, the rent is due, and the need that had been teased so effortlessly out of her had taken over. Hunger that could never be filled, desire that no amount of sex could satiate, a need that had her standing there, shaking, nearly dying, waiting for a stranger to come and get her through the next bend.

I don’t think I can wait any longer.” she whispers.

You know how it goes, love. We always have to wait.”

 

 

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