Clayton
07-12-2012, 08:56 PM
Even at the wettest part of the day the heat could always find a way to break through. He hated the way that the liquor lingered, the taste of alcohol was almost olive-like and it stuck to his tongue unrepentingly. He didn't have to drink, it was too warm really, but he preferred the man he was slightly drunk over the man he was sober. It never lasted, but for a few fleeting and desirable minutes he was brave, and noble, and strong. From the second floor balcony, he commanded a view of the whole parking lot and the terra cotta colored apartment beyond that. Even from his elevated position the reflective black top seemed to burn. It would have been unbearably bright out that day were it not for the clouds hanging so closely over the rooftop. He liked this place. He liked this weather. Yes, it was sickeningly warm, but with the clouds so close and so dark, tropical rain was almost a promise. He did like this weather so.
Something about hot rain made him feel like he had escaped to a place that didn't exist anywhere but his own mind. He could have lost himself to the sensations of sweat and dizziness and the slight sweetness of his iced venom. That's what it truly was, venom. Yet far more toxic. For even the bite or the sting can only bring death to a man once, but the chilled liquid swirling stupidly in the bottom of his glass brought about his death more times than he could recall. But those thoughts were better saved for later. For now he would try to enjoy his new found courage before those wonderful clouds went away.
By now the glass was empty, save for a few slick looking ice cubes which would be nothing but cloudy water in a few moments. This was always the hardest part for him; getting up from the chair when it seemed the most inviting place in the world at that moment. He resigned himself to the alcohol in his blood and decided to wait for just a minute more. This was the only truly wise decision he had ever seemed to make for it was in this minute that she appeared and his life would almost change.
She did not move with confidence, but neither did she move with doubt. She walked the walk of a person that knew exactly who they were and it didn't bother her. He didn't know what that was like. She was not beautiful either, so why was it so difficult to stop following her with his eyes. She was taller than him by almost a foot, but he was short to begin with. Her not too low khaki shorts revealed just enough of her legs to hint to him that her soft looking skin went places that his eyes could not. Her medium length dark hair was not overly elaborate and at the same time needed not be. She passed in an unusually slow manner across the muted black top, although that illusion may have been due in part to the speed with which his own heart was beating.
At that moment, he wanted nothing more in the world than for her to not pass from his sight. Why had she such power over him? He had never met her before and she was so far from his eyes, yet she moved through him completely. "This could be what love feels like", he thought to himself. He would have spoken those words aloud, but the taste of olive juice on his tongue still lingered and he didn't quite feel like talking. He would see her and many others many times and die time and again. But he didn't feel like thinking about it. What he did feel like was another drink.
Something about hot rain made him feel like he had escaped to a place that didn't exist anywhere but his own mind. He could have lost himself to the sensations of sweat and dizziness and the slight sweetness of his iced venom. That's what it truly was, venom. Yet far more toxic. For even the bite or the sting can only bring death to a man once, but the chilled liquid swirling stupidly in the bottom of his glass brought about his death more times than he could recall. But those thoughts were better saved for later. For now he would try to enjoy his new found courage before those wonderful clouds went away.
By now the glass was empty, save for a few slick looking ice cubes which would be nothing but cloudy water in a few moments. This was always the hardest part for him; getting up from the chair when it seemed the most inviting place in the world at that moment. He resigned himself to the alcohol in his blood and decided to wait for just a minute more. This was the only truly wise decision he had ever seemed to make for it was in this minute that she appeared and his life would almost change.
She did not move with confidence, but neither did she move with doubt. She walked the walk of a person that knew exactly who they were and it didn't bother her. He didn't know what that was like. She was not beautiful either, so why was it so difficult to stop following her with his eyes. She was taller than him by almost a foot, but he was short to begin with. Her not too low khaki shorts revealed just enough of her legs to hint to him that her soft looking skin went places that his eyes could not. Her medium length dark hair was not overly elaborate and at the same time needed not be. She passed in an unusually slow manner across the muted black top, although that illusion may have been due in part to the speed with which his own heart was beating.
At that moment, he wanted nothing more in the world than for her to not pass from his sight. Why had she such power over him? He had never met her before and she was so far from his eyes, yet she moved through him completely. "This could be what love feels like", he thought to himself. He would have spoken those words aloud, but the taste of olive juice on his tongue still lingered and he didn't quite feel like talking. He would see her and many others many times and die time and again. But he didn't feel like thinking about it. What he did feel like was another drink.