I am watching them. I am watching them as they laugh, as they eat, as they walk, as they breathe; it is I who watches them. She has a certain kind of glitter in her eyes as she speaks with him but he seems to be hiding something behind his. She is a tall, thick beauty with eyes the colour of a peach pencil crayon and gorgeous long light brown hair. Her skin is peach a sprinkled with freckles. He has short black hair styled into a pompadour and smooth light brown eyes. He’s tall and well-defined and his skin is olive and smooth save for his goatee. I taste these interesting details on the tip of my tongue as I follow them along the garden path.
I hear a whisper. One like the gentle brush of a feather against skin; your voice seems to caresses my mind. It's building up, up, up like the storm brewing outside. Why have you entered my psyche only to torment me in desire? My heart begins to thud, pounding like the thunder. The water: wet, wet drips down the outside frame of my windowsill. Soaking the soil, soaking my bed. Yearning...
It’s one of those kinds of days: the wind is light, the sun is bright, and... it’s pouring rain. It’s humid and sticky and by the time I reach to Union Station I’m drenched, dripping puddles on the ground, guess who left their umbrella at home. Security guards can’t kick you out for leaving a trail of dirt and water where you walk, right? I check my watch and then I remember that it’s just for show, for me anyway. I don’t know who told me to get a 24-hour watch, at least it’s waterproof. So I take out my phone instead. The VIA Rail to Montréal leaves at 10:30 AM and it’s 10:15, it’s a good thing a bought my ticket online.
Sit back, relax and reminisce with me