Braun HF 1 television receiver, Germany, 1958

Braun HF 1 television receiver, Germany, 1958 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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.



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