Cape Town

Mama, You Been On My Mind

-Josh-

Connie Abbot looks like an autumn evening, especially when she leans her head against the cool window of my flat and stares down at the garden. Her long hair reminds me of the forest floor when it's covered in decaying leaves, but only when the sunset is hitting them at the perfect angle; giving everything a reddish tint. It's straight and brown with auburn undertones in the sunshine. Her eyes are warm enough to match her hair, always outlined in mascara and golden or beige eyeshadow. She's paper thin with thighs that never touch and legs that look like they might break under any additional weight from even just her Gucci purse. She's as tall as me without her heels on, but that's a give-in seeing as her profession is a fashion model. Her face is porcelain and seamless; no freckles or sunspots, no crinkles under her eyes when she laughs. When I kiss her cheek, I taste her foundation. And when I kiss her lips, they're always hardened from the constant wear of thick layers of lipstick. She's beautiful in the type of way that women never really are. She's beautiful in the way that everything about her is perfect. The way she flips her hair back, the way she walks confidently, the way her perfume follows her in faint gusts. Her perfection is her only flaw.

She moved away from the window and my eyes followed her as she slowly ran her finger along the white wall. I took a long drag from the cigarette that I gripped lightly in between my fingers and closed my eyes when I exhaled the smoke. When I opened them next, she was inspecting my wooden desk covered in sketchbooks and stray photos.

"You really don't help the stereotype that all artists are disorganized." She said, her eyes searching through the clutter for something more interesting than my rainy backyard.

"I never claimed to be an artist." I muttered through the cigarette that hung haphazardly out of my mouth. She lifted up a sketchbook and raised a perfectly drawn-in eyebrow. I shrugged.

"What are you then?" She asked, setting the notebook down to examine the desk more closely. "A photographer?" She guessed due to all of the pictures scattered about. "You know I don't date photographers. They always end up using me to benefit their career."

"I never claimed to be a photographer." I sighed, not bothering to keep the agitation out of my tone. I hated snoops more than I hated people lacking respect. She flipped open the sketchbook to a random page and a small smile appeared on her lips.

"An architect. I knew it." She said triumphantly, running her finger softly over the tracing of a beach house.

"You caught me." I forced a grin along with my lie. I was none of the above. I was in school to become a lawyer.

"Interesting. I've never slept with an architect." I waited for her to move away from the desk and give up on her interrogation, but instead she sat down in the chair and made herself even more comfortable. She picked up a couple of photos, then moved her gaze to one in a picture frame outlined with seashells. She held it up for me to see and I took another drag. "Are these your little sisters?" I paused for a few moments, looking at the soft features in the photo. Cali and Lily were the definition of summer. Light hair, tan skin, blue eyes. Looking at them now was like a gust of ocean air coming through my window and into my house in the city. I felt a pang of sadness but quickly shook it off. May would come around soon enough. It always did. "Oh..." She backtracked quickly seeing the look on my face. "Sore subject?"

"No." I assured her, turning my gaze to the window. "Yes, they're my sisters. They live in America. I just miss them sometimes." It was only half a lie.

"You three make a lovely family." I heard her set the frame down. "You've all got that golden, beach aura about you." I heard her footsteps and soon enough she was moving onto the mattress and laying her head against my bare chest. I took my hand and ran it over her hair, smoothing it down. I put out my cigarette and closed my eyes, leaning my head against the headboard. "Joshua?"