flash fiction #1

<3


‘Hey’, he said. I could hear his voice behind my back. Gentle but masculine. ‘Hey’, he was approaching me; do I want him to approach me? He was getting closer; I could feel his breath or was it the air? I could smell him; he was close to my ear. ‘Hey’ he breathed the word and I felt his desire passing through me. ‘You dropped an apple’, I looked at him. His smile was a fine line telling me to trust him. ‘Did I?’



God, I want to kiss her. Don’t, don’t kiss her, idiot. She will slap you and walk away. Do something else, be poetic, be romantic, make a good impression, make her like you. Ask her on a date; ask her phone number, why do women read Cosmopolitan? Do something, she is expecting you to do something, oh, her smile; just let me get lost in her smile.



He bit the apple, its juice travelled from his lip to his neck. He smiled, she laughed, he was original, they went on a date, and they loved each other. And then just like the taste of that first apple fades and is replaced by all the other apples you taste, they forgot that very first day. She trusts someone else now, he is lost in another smile now, but sometimes when they wait at a bus stop, or when the kids wake them up in the middle of the night, just for a second, they think ‘what if?’ But soon they forget all about it.

Poetry #1

 A lie


Sitting on a wooden swing
eating pomegranate
deep red juice on her wrinkled chin
the sound of thick rope
thick rope against metal
tell me a story I ask
her mouth a black hole
pomegranate mashed in the black hole
no stories
no stories for children
her smell in my nose
she is rotting
her smell a shadow in my mouth
eat she says
I am her eighty years younger
ninety years old
pomegranate smashed on the floor
memories laid on the floor
tell me a story I ask
no stories for children
tell me the truth I ask