Cursed

Lost in Heaven

Ten years later

you know when you hear the perfect song at the perfect time, when the rhythm is your pulse and the lyrics your thoughts, and for those few minutes you are everywhere and nowhere.

I've always thought that that is the best feeling in the world. better than flying of cliffs supported by only a wooden frame and cloth, or than a tin of peaches heated over the fire during a long winter. A perfect song is better than any of that.

I'm lying in the heath watching thick dark clouds drift pass and listening to my favourite song on my metallic blue Walkman. incidentally the songs named don't get lost in heaven, which is exactly what happens to me when I listen to it. Is that irony?

slipping my arm under my head I make up my mind to head home at the end of the next song.20 minutes pass and I've finished the entire disk, using up valuable battery power and staying out much later than I should have. The sun has sunk low in the sky so pulling off my headphones I scramble up hill to camp.

when I arrive Eir is still out so instead of putting my headphones back on and as the song says, "get lost in heaven", I gather enough kindling to start a fire and begin to cook a cup of rice.

by the time the rice has cooked Eir is home, face covered partially by a grey scarf, and pack loaded to bursting. dumping the pack on her bed role and removing the scarf she bends over the fire to check the rice.

"you've over cooked it again."

"sorry"

she grunts before beginning to undress down to her under clothes slipping into her sleeping bag.

though I'm used to this type of behaviour it still hurts me a bit, surely it couldn't hurt her to just try tolerating me for once, after all we are the only company each other has.

for the past ten years I've lived with Eir, moving with the seasons and camping out in caves. Eir has never been the kindest of souls, true she took me in and feeds me which counts for a lot but it always seems like she's doing it out of obligation rather than any type of moral or love for me.

no longer hungry I take the rice from the fire and begin to eat. Eir's right its overcooked-the consistency of glue.

after dinner, I clean out my cup and crawl into my sleeping bag. usually I listen to my Walkman before bed but I can't afford it anymore, I only have one packet of batteries left and its unlikely we'll find any more until we move back to near the city. after what feels an age, lying in the dark listening to Eir's occasional murmuring in her sleep I begin to feel my eye lids grow heavy and my mind turn to mush.

A/N

so this is possibly the shortest chapter I've  ever written but hey, I wrote it. so I'm actually about half way through this story cos I wrote a lot of it a few months ago. its still unedited of course but maybe I'll be motivated to write more if I start posting it. I really hope  you enjoyed it and that it makes sense.

thanks :)