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,
|< Two thumbs up | YAMFCR >|