To be taken by the hand and the heart,
All at once, all in one breath that is stolen away
By a place.
To be led by the senses, overdriven by this place.
To be led by your eyes,
To the bright blue sky, the spindly fingered trees,
The fizzy pink of Kir Royale, the red of framboise, the caramel of croissants.
The iron and stone and concrete of the monsters that have made this city's name.
To be led by the nose, scents invading the nostrils and the growling stomach,
Of warm butter and sugar,
Of a grill in full flame,
The charred hunk of flesh divine in it's burnt coat and pink heart.
Gauloises. Cafe'.
To be led by the sounds that thump in the eardrums,
A cacophony of angry car horns, the determined throttle of a bike,
The laughter of friends on a warm evening.
The pit of the soul thumping music.
The beautiful, lilting words,
Bon Journee', Merci Bien, S'il vous plait.
A friends arrival.
Cancelled, late planes.
No room at the inn,
Even though a room is bought and paid for.
Go, Go ! We'll miss it !
Ohhh, no we won't.
Where the fuck is this thing ?
Oh, it's up there.
More stairs to climb, more breath to lose.
There it is.
The room.
The studio.
The man.
Another man that looks exactly like him.
There they are, in all their glory.
She's been here before, she knows the drill,
But she is still in awe, all the same.
One man throws his hands around,
Hi ! Hi ! Bien Venue !
The other scuttles away saying nothing, head down.
Shy ? anxious ? About what .....
They dance.
They yell and shout,
At one another, at others.
The others laugh when they yell at them.
They laugh. They cry ? Perhaps, another time.
Done.
Over, all too soon.
Thank you. A hug.
I'm all sweaty !
YOU ARE READING
SHORT SHORTS by Tonig73
FanfictionA collection of short stories, some fluff and mush, some heart rending, about love, life, friends and family, the importance of humour, and everything in between. All starring our men. Enjoy ....
