I've Got A Feeling

On the Way

Fuckin' hell, what time is it? Rubbing the deprivation out of my eyes, my hands reach over for my lenses, gliding them up my perspiring nose as I carefully feel for my metal clock. It stares back at me reading one in the morning. My hands are tempted to just throw the retched thing out of the window or onto the floor. Ye really want to awaken the beast though? I guess not. A ripple went across in my stomach just thinking what Paul would say to me right now, if he were here.

I sigh, placing my glasses back on the nightstand and pulling the blankets closer to my body. No sound could be heard about the house, not even the reckless teenagers that usually hang around in the streets late in the night and early into the morning during their holiday break. A smile melted onto my face, the days of Paul and I in those years flashing like photos from a scrapbook. When we would get ice cream together from the local shops, or just mess about in record stores and by the pier. Steal glances as if nobody else is watching.

Sitting up in my small bed, I grab my sketch/song book out of a drawer along with some paints and began flipping through pages. Huh, I must have ripped that one out. Well, no hurt in startin' a new one. Placidly flicking on a lamp, I grab a sturdy cover of a record that I purchased a while but didn't like that much to place under my makeshift canvas. A jolt of energy flows about in my hand as I sketch a portrait of my betrothed. Maybe I should just do a pencil drawing, oh well. Taking a swig of water from a glass before dipping one of my littler brushes into it to dampen the bristles, I let out a thin exhale. I placed the tip of the hairs in a light pink color that would work for his lips and dabbed it onto the off-white tree leaves that make up this paper. This looks like rubbish and I've barely made a mark.

A smile built up on my face as I began to daub my canvas in a dark autumn green color, then adding a coarse corduroy brown in other spots carefully. I think these match his eyes. Fuck, I should have done the skin first. I'll just have to leave it. My stomach began to moan for food as I slid my brush down the page in the outline of our bowl haircuts. Fine, you win. Don't come cryin' to me again. Grunting silently, I set all of my supplies on my desk and stretch out my legs before heading downstairs. I wince as friction of sheets comes from upstairs, effected by the creak in one of our old floorboards.

Stepping on the fronts of my toes, I make it to the tiny kitchen holding all of the food needed for me English breakfast in the morning. Ugh, I can't have tea. You have yer date with Paul later. Or was that yesterday? What was today? Who knows anymore? I certainly don't. Opening up the "forbidden cabinet" that I was never allowed to forge in when I was younger, I grabbed the closest bottle I could find and screwed the cap loose while taking a gander at the glasses we have on hand. Setting a cup down, I attempt to remove the cap but to no avail, it drops and steals any physical fatigue I had when realizing Mimi could find me. After calmly picking it back up I take a swig of the adult beverage and forcefully clamp my mouth shut to keep from spitting it out into the sink. Holy hell, the fuck is in that? I open up the fridge to get a once-over of the items inside. Some in-season stuff but mainly just the staples consisting of meat stuffed containers and bread filled products. I popped a raspberry onto my dry tongue, feeling dopamine spreading about my system as a memory pops into my brain.

Back in the earlier days of Paul and I becoming good mates, we would be a little more awkward with each other and wouldn't know how to spark up a conversation. So, he or I would try to find a place for us to walk together to, making the silence more comforting rather than deafening and anxious. One day, I didn't expect him to show up to my place, therefore I didn't have a building to take us to. But I was already familiar with bullshitting me way out of situations and told him that I know this really gear fish and chip shop that was even better than the one he had taken me to before. Some of the best chips I've had in me life, to say the least. I don't even remember how they tasted, you have to keep going back to remember.