Print Story No One can Strike me like You Do.
I haven't done this in quite some time.  Let's see how this goes I guess.  Then again I may just delete this and you'll never see it.  Only time will tell.


Some things are true, other things merely ring true.  Everything is true.  Some things are False.  Everything is False.  Some things are True.


Standing there on the long, cold concrete walkway jutting out to, if not  the middle, then certainly the off-center of the Mississippi,  I watched Orion's belt grow fat from his constant bull hunts.  It was shimmering bright and needful in the darkened and lonely night.  Motherfucker must have rhinestones on it, or some such.  I stared up at it for some time, lost in thought as I am apt to be.  The wind whipped at my cheeks, blushing them with the kind of rosy redness one can only get from the late autumn winds of a cold river.   

I looked over at the camera, watching it expose itself to the light of the evening and waiting for my cue to cut off its source.  The camera is a light junkie, a vampire wanting to suckle more and more until one is left with naught but a white square through which to view the world.  It is important to be a stern, but reasonable parent to the camera.  One must know self-control to teach self-control.  Thus, I have problems teaching.

As I stood there, cold and blowing onto my hands in the hopes that some of the paleness would dissipate from them, my mind wandered randomly to both past and future issues.  I thought of her singing about the salt shaker.  And I thought of the memory of her lips. I wish I could remember her lips.  I wish I could remember what they tasted like back then.  I was far too drunk for taking stock of the moment, but at the moment I wish I had so done.

I checked my phone which is, admittedly, my only real clock.  It had only been a minute.  I was waiting on the 4 minute marker, though the cold and the local suspicious houses nearby were amping my already overactive lack of patience.  Nearby a goose caught wind of my movements and honked as he took off from the frigid river.  I watched his shadow play against the stars as he let out long, annoyed calls like some drunken fool at last call.  He disappeared over the power plant and due to lack of light I could hear him longer than I could see him.

I bet her lips tasted like peaches.  I bet they were just as delicious as every word that fell from her lips like tinkling crystal, only to break upon my failed and fragile ears.  I was completely unworthy, in so many ways.  I bet her eyes shimmered after that kiss.  I bet the sea would have tossed a fit in envy at the shimmering hues of blue and green in her eyes afterward.  I bet she giggled.  I bet.  I bet.  I.

The camera stood upon its three borrowed legs.  It was awaiting my attention as it swallowed and swallowed and swallowed.  It was feverish with need, this camera.  Its eye open like some gaping maw to devour all it could before I claimed possible victory.

I bet she giggled.  I bet she gave me one of those wide eyed smiles that was a trademark, and stamped my heart with her company's logo.  I bet I called her the next day to see how she was doing and she said I was "sweet" for so doing.  I bet my heart leapt at this proclamation.  I bet I bet that I bet.  But I could not remember, because I was too drunk at the time, or because it never happened.  They're malleable, these things.

I called it in on the camera, then.  I called time out and wore a striped shirt as I waved my hands in the air with an air about me that said I was apathetic.  The camera complied, as I knew it would, and I heard the shutter snap down harsh and final in obedience.  

I bet she tasted like peaches.  I bet every inch of her was heaven defined between my lips.  I bet her heat and her every loving stretch of skin was delight defined and that my tongue was barely satiated with just how wondrous she was.  I bet and I bet and I bet.

I packed up my tripod.  I packed up my accessories.  I walked back toward where I'd left my car, savoring the thoughts of the past, or the future, or the never was.  I'm not even sure anymore, frankly, but it doesn't matter.  Eventually, the dashboard glow surrounded me and it was time to head home to see what I had captured.  It was time to define my time.

It was time.

(The following image is NOT the one which I captured in this story, but from the same night.  The image captured in this story really needs to be viewed in full size and I have no interest in screwing with HuSi to get it up.  It's available, somewhat, in the link though... somewhere.  I'm not giving everything away, mind.)

I love you and always will,

-Q

 

 

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No One can Strike me like You Do. | 21 comments (21 topical, 0 hidden) | Trackback
Damn fine by Phage (4.00 / 1) #1 Sun Nov 23, 2008 at 10:43:11 PM EST
writing.
Thanks

I'm dumb by me0w (4.00 / 1) #2 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 03:28:27 AM EST
I was going to post a comment about your diary and then we chitter chattered and I said it all.

So I'll tell you something else. Mostly I'll tell you that I'm dumb. I forgot that I start work at 10am today and I got up WAY too early. So now I'll sea donkey it about today with tired eyes.

"the only reason we PMS is because our uterus is screaming at our brain to go out, get fucked, and have a baby ... and it makes us angry."
Those of us who are dumb need to band together by MisterQueue (2.00 / 0) #10 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 05:27:00 AM EST
Then again, I suspect by our very natures that's unlikely.  "Oh shit did I have a meeting or something?!"  

Everything is different, everything is the same.

-Q
--------------
"When I get bored, I pretend I am MisterQueue." -DullTrev

[ Parent ]
I like this banding idea... by me0w (4.00 / 1) #12 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 06:48:23 AM EST
A rag-tag bunch a la Robin Hood or something ...

GIves me some ideas.

"the only reason we PMS is because our uterus is screaming at our brain to go out, get fucked, and have a baby ... and it makes us angry."
[ Parent ]
Peaches are so passé. by ammoniacal (4.00 / 2) #3 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 03:56:22 AM EST
You need a woman who tastes like a durian.

"To this day that was the most bullshit caesar salad I have every experienced..." - triggerfinger

Meh. by MisterQueue (4.00 / 1) #9 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 05:25:43 AM EST
I'll probably hold out for dragonfruit.

-Q
--------------
"When I get bored, I pretend I am MisterQueue." -DullTrev

[ Parent ]
Be glad by sasquatchan (4.00 / 1) #4 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 04:21:41 AM EST
no nosey coppers came around to harass you about taking pictures in the public square.. Seems that's been a meme here, more for nanny-staters, but blixco was doing recon on the G-20 summit in DC earlier and was hauled in..

No biggy by theboz (4.00 / 1) #5 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 04:32:39 AM EST
We were taking photos in an airport last weekend.

- - - - -
That's what I always say about you, boz, you have a good memory for random facts about pussy. -- joh3n
[ Parent ]
Yeah well he probably deserved it. by MisterQueue (4.00 / 1) #8 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 05:25:18 AM EST
Most of my concerns of late have been because the areas I was heading toward were sketchy and I've been on a huge night photography kick.

I'd be more worried about cops if I had one of those 3000 candle lights or something to brighten up night shots.  "Excuse me but do you have a permit for lugging around the FUCKING SUN?!"

-Q
--------------
"When I get bored, I pretend I am MisterQueue." -DullTrev

[ Parent ]
Actually, I do. by mrgoat (4.00 / 3) #15 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 10:44:11 AM EST
*--------------------------------*
|                                |
|  mrgoat is hereby permitted:   |
|   One (1) the Fucking Sun      |
|  For the purposes of:          |
|   Lugging                      |
|                                |
*--------------------------------*


--top hat--
[ Parent ]
Well. by MisterQueue (4.00 / 2) #16 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 11:07:17 AM EST
I bet that thing has some serious lamination. 

-Q
--------------
"When I get bored, I pretend I am MisterQueue." -DullTrev

[ Parent ]
That's something by theboz (4.00 / 1) #6 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 04:33:43 AM EST
It is a thing, defined as such, with a pronoun, if it is at all.  It may not be, but that's only if we imagine it not to be something.

- - - - -
That's what I always say about you, boz, you have a good memory for random facts about pussy. -- joh3n
That which has been by MisterQueue (2.00 / 0) #7 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 05:23:33 AM EST
cannot unbe.

-Q
--------------
"When I get bored, I pretend I am MisterQueue." -DullTrev

[ Parent ]
By Asherah, wife of Yahweh... by theboz (4.00 / 1) #11 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 06:08:56 AM EST
...I think you're right.

- - - - -
That's what I always say about you, boz, you have a good memory for random facts about pussy. -- joh3n
[ Parent ]
*ahem* by clock (4.00 / 1) #13 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 10:23:55 AM EST
I checked my phone which is, admittedly, my only real clock.

i take exception to that statement.


I agree with clock entirely --Kellnerin

Frankly by MisterQueue (4.00 / 1) #14 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 10:41:32 AM EST
I think you and I both know that you are clearly the figment of someone else's imagination.  Now if only I could figure out whose, t'was.

-Q
--------------
"When I get bored, I pretend I am MisterQueue." -DullTrev

[ Parent ]
everything is true by Kellnerin (4.00 / 1) #17 Mon Nov 24, 2008 at 02:33:19 PM EST
but not the way you think it is.

Everything you want, but in the worst possible way.

You came because I called, right? No? Please, say so anyway.

We've missed you.

--
"Late to the party" is the new "ahead of the curve" -- CRwM

And lawd almighty do I want everything. by MisterQueue (2.00 / 0) #18 Tue Nov 25, 2008 at 03:55:22 AM EST
Gluttonous desire, that's me.

Anyway of course it's because you called.  Why else would it be that I would appear, as though made of magic and baubles, all jangling about through the woods shouting out stories to which some deride and others disbelieve.

Why else, my dear?

-Q
--------------
"When I get bored, I pretend I am MisterQueue." -DullTrev

[ Parent ]
glutinous, sweet, sticky by Kellnerin (4.00 / 1) #19 Tue Nov 25, 2008 at 03:05:45 PM EST
desire. So tasty, yet bad for your small intestine if you're unlucky.

And you, dear Queue, have made my jingle-jangle evening.

--
"Late to the party" is the new "ahead of the curve" -- CRwM

[ Parent ]
Oh a spelling correction eh? by MisterQueue (2.00 / 0) #20 Tue Nov 25, 2008 at 04:05:37 PM EST
You sly editor you.. can't even let one slip by?

Well I take it in stride as it was so tactfully done.

Always a pleasure.

-Q
--------------
"When I get bored, I pretend I am MisterQueue." -DullTrev

[ Parent ]
you misread me by Kellnerin (4.00 / 1) #21 Tue Nov 25, 2008 at 04:18:58 PM EST
I was merely misreading you, but the substitution was so delicious I couldn't resist.

--
"Late to the party" is the new "ahead of the curve" -- CRwM
[ Parent ]
No One can Strike me like You Do. | 21 comments (21 topical, 0 hidden) | Trackback