Silver Beema

Chapter 15

Visions of how I would relay the story I was currently starring in to my unborn son were seeping into my thoughts. 'It was my 17th in a week and I found a car, took the boys, drove all the way to Durban and made sweet love to your mother, and that's how you came about'.

"What's on your mind?" Rea whispers in my ear as I'm guessing she noticed me take a quick trip to the future. I'm trying to quickly come up with an excuse but she's looking at me right in the eye while donating her duck shaped lips to me, and it's distracting! "Hey you want me to take you on a tour?" I said. Rea and I get up and I can feel the looks in the audience, each with something to say; 'Bruh you know as much as she does about this house, we see you!' 'Awe boy! A win for Serg!' 'Smooth guy, lets' see if your friend over here can follow suite'.

Rafa rudely interrupts the re-enactment of my vision to ask for my phone. My taste in music was to be the sound track to the night. I should be the supposed tour guide on this adventure but she's the one leading me from door to door, quickly having a sneak peek behind each door before pretending to know what was inside. Bathroom, Pantry, Office... She peaks into the next door then disappears into it. I open it and enter the room.

It's dark. I feel the wall for the light switch and that's when the door mysteriously (not so mysteriously) closes. The moon's light is bouncing through the glass walls and off her fair skin. She pulls me in. I grab her waist. She leans in to kiss me but doesn't go all the way, just enough to force me into her atmosphere. She exhales slowly on my skin, there's a slight stutter to her exhalation. A stutter I had been recently educated on by The Warhorse's owner the same night he basically gave me his car. A stutter that meant 'she's a bit nervous, but she's ready for you to harvest her'. Of all the intoxications I had lost my mental to in my life, this was the most possessive. Where my nerves stopped is where hers started. I've lost control of my brain. It and the rest of the organs that comprise my body have transformed into one half of a stimulus-hungry sexual being. Our lips finally merge in what is probably the greatest anti-climax known to human life. Our mouths were dry from the joint we had earlier and the build-up spills out into the room's aura. She exerts a giggle that sounds like product placement by Brazzers. I smile back and say "imma go get us something to drink". I swiftly return a couple of minutes later with box wine, two glasses and her guitar, attempting a different approach.

I look at the rouge lipstick impression made on her glass and wonder how she got every sip on the exact same spot. The windows are open and the cold ocean breeze hits her skin, goose bumps form on the back of her neck. The wind kisses the strings of the guitar and plays a silent melody. My eyes are drawn to its contours and I the think about the stories behind every scratch. Every scuff and every dent has its own backstory that I'd probably never know.

Her voice starts to mutter the sweet nothing's that sent my heart falling the first time. My eyes dart back and forth between the guitar and her wine stained lips. She notices this and looks back at the guitar and asks if I want to hear her play. Posed as a question but was intended as an announcement. She picks it up and finger picks the tune to her favourite song, Quel qu'un ma dit-Carla Bruni. Her voice rolls off the notes of each string as if they were dancing with one another. I sit back breath taken from the beauty of this moment. After a couple verses we hear unusual sounds originating from the guitar that sound nothing like the notes she's playing.