A/N: some bits of this story were extracted from brad tolinski's "light and shade". i also got inspired by some incredible quotes by william burroughs. <3 enjoy!
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•••
it was getting dark when I finally found the street I was looking for. I searched for the small piece of paper in my pocket to check the address again:
4 Holland St., Kensington, London W8. Tel 937 6766
it was near two parks, and just down Portobello Road. I knew that street had a fame with antique dealers, so it had to be the place. after walking around for a few more minutes, I spotted the brown building with a small sign on the front: "The Equinox".
the elements in the logo caught my attention, but what was inside of the bookstore was definitely more intriguing. he was there. and his whole universe was there, too.
"I want you to know everything." he had said days before, lying sideways in my bed.
"and what would that be, jimmy?" I whispered. his eyes dug into mine.
"every part of me."
•••
the bell on the door announced my arrival at the shop, and I took off my suede coat to take a look around. the walls were covered with paintings and pictures, and the room was partitioned with glass panels etched with egyptian figures. the displays were glossy black, with a soft lightning throughout.
a book on the top shelf caught my eye: "Goetia". I pulled it off the shelf and ran my finger over the black and red cover, feeling the pebbled texture against my skin. I was so deeply immersed in the book that his presence went unnoticed.
"I see you found something already." he stood behind the desk, flashing a playful smirk at me.
"christ, you scared me!" I turned to him. it felt good seeing him like that: casual and unworried. I thought about jimmy page - the guitar god, and the man standing there in front of me. he could be so many things at the same time.
"sorry, love." he giggled, getting closer. "how'd like the shop?"
"it's far out, jim. everything about it." I glanced at the heavy book in my hands. "tell me about this one."
jimmy chose his words carefully. "aleister crowley wrote it." he said, pointing at the wall. "that's him. it's a practice that includes the conjuration of... demons. and human desires."
I studied his eyes - they were light green, but sometimes I perceived them so differently. in that moment, the look on his face was as dark as the night sky that was then above us. it made me think of thunderstorms. "do you really believe in all this?"
