Sitting on the floor in the middle of the bedroom. My back to the open bedroom door.The walls and carpets are periwinkle blue. Everything else imaginable is white.
If I turned and looked I could just make out the delicate crossed ankles of someone watching TV from the couch.
I take a bag from the wardrobe on the left of me. Under some jeans and stuff, I find a weird, pyramid-shaped, transparent, plastic canister. I think it’s a Hoover.
I spend a few minutes pondering what it could be. Then you walk in and sit next to me, one leg bent, the other folded with a hand rested on each knee.
Oh it’s a paint sprayer…I think quietly.
You ask “What the hell…” I’m doing. I say “Trying to figure out what this is.” “It’s a Hoover.” you say. “Nope, the picture says it’s a painter.” “Seen…How was your weekend?” you say. “It was ok…uneventful like always.” I shrug and interrupt your response “How was yours?”
“Special.” you say. “Very quiet, but nice, and special…I had good company”
I smile and glance at you sideways through half closed eyes. “Skeen”
You lay your head on my arm. Then a bit further up onto my shoulders and pull me into you holding me there.
I shiver a bit and you place the other hand on my stomach. My body completely relaxes.
I’m aware of the sound of the TV in the background.
I feel your heart beating and I’m suddenly conscious of mine beating like a panicked goat.
The heat emanating from your body is immense. I’m almost worried I’ll get burn’t….but it’s your scent I remember. Your smell is rich and heady, dangerously intoxicating and comforting all at once.
For those seconds before you get up and move away…back to her, everything I am is open.