Actually Love?
Someone posted something which made me think...about Love....
Actually Love?…… One week anyway……
And do I love a dirty pint of cider. On a hard Thursday, you finish late and tired and dirty …and before you go home you stop in at the Duck and Dive and Tomo is pouring your pint even before you sit on the stool. You drink a third of it on the first pull and it takes down all of the coffee taste, the remains of the pork pie you had for lunch…and a fair bit of phlegm which has condensed on all of the dust in your mouth from site…..
You go home after just two and you have already dumped half the stress of the day when you grab her and make the kiss last longer simply because you know how bad you smell. Dinner is waiting and the post has been edited or dealt with…and after eating a great meal far too quickly than it deserved, you grab a quick shower and sit down to watch a bit of the reality shows she Loves to watch just because you Love her enough to see what interests her.
You would Love to beat to death with a hammer all of the people in the reality show which is anything but any reality you have ever known. You nudge her when the credits role and nod your head towards the stairs. You go up and brush your teeth again and set the alarm and think about a bit of toe wrestling with her when she has closed up the house and made her way up stairs.
You feel yourself slipping away to sleep as she gets in bed and seeks the warmth of your body. You manage to kiss her ear and take in her smell and promise yourself as you drift off that at the weekend you will make time to make the time…..to make Love….
A few hours later…. At the 5000 mile mark on the M4 you stop for coffee because you love having one as the sun comes up. You take the time to seek out a proper services stop with a branded coffee shop rather than the cardboard and diesel flavour of the petrol shop ones… At the counter you see a couple hugging and kissing and you smile…
They sit down at a table several rows from you and the voyeur in all of us makes you watch their verbal intercourse. She is dressed for him. Nice skirt, pattered stockings,. Probably the real gear rather than tights….and a nice top. He is dressed for the office or the client…You guess that he/they have emerged from the Travel Lodge on this services…
His phone goes and you can see his expression change as he takes it….She looks down at her coffee and it slowly dawns on you that although they are a couple this morning, they are not each other’s other half….. You can see the affection that they seem to have for each other and you realize that Love doesn’t always bring happiness.
As you finish you coffee you think about how fragile Love is and how easy it is to confuse with other bodily desires…
The day ends and you nod your head a few times while you drive into the sunset heading home. You skip your dirty pint to the surprise of your crew and make you way into the house. She looks at you with an astonished smile as you reach past her to turn off the oven and kiss her. You take her hand and walk towards the stairs and she smiles while shaking her head…
A quick wash and she hands you a glass of her favourite wine, vino indigesto, and you close the door…. After the event you laugh out loud at each other’s comments and you drift off into the best kind of dreamless sleep.
Morning comes softly and brings forth a relaxed routine which is soon shattered by the assault of the grandsons…the little one distracts us by heading straight for the cats while the older one drives on to the fridge…
You watch as she makes your breakfast with one grandson balanced on her hip as the other one eats cornflakes from a mixing bowl. You notice his voice is now getting lower as his size and appetite also become more man-like….He asks you questions about aspects of the rugby season and you realize that he is now more man than boy, and while looking at his identical but fourteen years younger brother that Love is timeless and unconditional at it’s best.
The daughter returns from her trip to town and collects the wildly protesting grandsons and once again, the house is quiet…and you Love it.
You and her go out for a bit of lunch at something called a gastro pub which apparently is a way for a poorly run or badly located pub to stay in business. She says her mates Love the place and she has been dying to come here. She orders the pasta pesto chef’s special.
It arrives and looks like something from the little one’s playgroup on types of food. It contains one small onion, three small pasta swirls, a spoon of green pesto and a sliver of beetroot. £8.99…..Chef’s special……..She Loved it….. I had a bowl of Texas hot chilli, that miserably failed the nosebleed test which is the internationally accepted testing spectrum for chilli. …..I didn’t feel much affection for it but it was better than eating a pork pie while reading schematics in a works van….Which I don’t Love.
Love that burger, song, telly show, film….Love that dog, cat, bird….Love Granny, Gramp, football, rugby….Altruistic, Romantic, Physical, Platonic. Did I mention I Love poker, whisky, a Sunday morning, a hot bath, Spanish lager, the Sunday Times, and pizza?
And do I love a dirty pint of cider. On a hard Thursday, you finish late and tired and dirty …and before you go home you stop in at the Duck and Dive and Tomo is pouring your pint even before you sit on the stool. You drink a third of it on the first pull and it takes down all of the coffee taste, the remains of the pork pie you had for lunch…and a fair bit of phlegm which has condensed on all of the dust in your mouth from site…..
You go home after just two and you have already dumped half the stress of the day when you grab her and make the kiss last longer simply because you know how bad you smell. Dinner is waiting and the post has been edited or dealt with…and after eating a great meal far too quickly than it deserved, you grab a quick shower and sit down to watch a bit of the reality shows she Loves to watch just because you Love her enough to see what interests her.
You would Love to beat to death with a hammer all of the people in the reality show which is anything but any reality you have ever known. You nudge her when the credits role and nod your head towards the stairs. You go up and brush your teeth again and set the alarm and think about a bit of toe wrestling with her when she has closed up the house and made her way up stairs.
You feel yourself slipping away to sleep as she gets in bed and seeks the warmth of your body. You manage to kiss her ear and take in her smell and promise yourself as you drift off that at the weekend you will make time to make the time…..to make Love….
A few hours later…. At the 5000 mile mark on the M4 you stop for coffee because you love having one as the sun comes up. You take the time to seek out a proper services stop with a branded coffee shop rather than the cardboard and diesel flavour of the petrol shop ones… At the counter you see a couple hugging and kissing and you smile…
They sit down at a table several rows from you and the voyeur in all of us makes you watch their verbal intercourse. She is dressed for him. Nice skirt, pattered stockings,. Probably the real gear rather than tights….and a nice top. He is dressed for the office or the client…You guess that he/they have emerged from the Travel Lodge on this services…
His phone goes and you can see his expression change as he takes it….She looks down at her coffee and it slowly dawns on you that although they are a couple this morning, they are not each other’s other half….. You can see the affection that they seem to have for each other and you realize that Love doesn’t always bring happiness.
As you finish you coffee you think about how fragile Love is and how easy it is to confuse with other bodily desires…
The day ends and you nod your head a few times while you drive into the sunset heading home. You skip your dirty pint to the surprise of your crew and make you way into the house. She looks at you with an astonished smile as you reach past her to turn off the oven and kiss her. You take her hand and walk towards the stairs and she smiles while shaking her head…
A quick wash and she hands you a glass of her favourite wine, vino indigesto, and you close the door…. After the event you laugh out loud at each other’s comments and you drift off into the best kind of dreamless sleep.
Morning comes softly and brings forth a relaxed routine which is soon shattered by the assault of the grandsons…the little one distracts us by heading straight for the cats while the older one drives on to the fridge…
You watch as she makes your breakfast with one grandson balanced on her hip as the other one eats cornflakes from a mixing bowl. You notice his voice is now getting lower as his size and appetite also become more man-like….He asks you questions about aspects of the rugby season and you realize that he is now more man than boy, and while looking at his identical but fourteen years younger brother that Love is timeless and unconditional at it’s best.
The daughter returns from her trip to town and collects the wildly protesting grandsons and once again, the house is quiet…and you Love it.
You and her go out for a bit of lunch at something called a gastro pub which apparently is a way for a poorly run or badly located pub to stay in business. She says her mates Love the place and she has been dying to come here. She orders the pasta pesto chef’s special.
It arrives and looks like something from the little one’s playgroup on types of food. It contains one small onion, three small pasta swirls, a spoon of green pesto and a sliver of beetroot. £8.99…..Chef’s special……..She Loved it….. I had a bowl of Texas hot chilli, that miserably failed the nosebleed test which is the internationally accepted testing spectrum for chilli. …..I didn’t feel much affection for it but it was better than eating a pork pie while reading schematics in a works van….Which I don’t Love.
Love that burger, song, telly show, film….Love that dog, cat, bird….Love Granny, Gramp, football, rugby….Altruistic, Romantic, Physical, Platonic. Did I mention I Love poker, whisky, a Sunday morning, a hot bath, Spanish lager, the Sunday Times, and pizza?
Comments
Subscribe
Visitor counter
Blog Roll Centre
Blog Hints
14 Comments
Several planets line up and she goes alien on me....
Her chief complaint is that I don't listen to her .....or something like that.........
Just like her, you have no taste in telly. Those are my favorites. Alaska PD, a sex crazed drunk polar bear with an M16 in a stolen SUV.....I asked her "how can you not watch that? "
She says why would she want to watch a sex crazed drunk bear on telly she when she lives with one....
ND, Master chef? one of my welders is addicted to the cookign shows and we watch them under threat of death when we work away.... the woman judge always votes by alcoholic content rather than taste or presentation....what a star...
Your version above is great. Did you notice, Whisks? Second Person narrative - can read very nicely!
the experiment with POV was a one off. Saw it in a telly advert and thought I would try it out. It is easy to drift out of.
Not sure the infidelity of the couple at the coffee shop read well enough. It was actually very funny to watch her expression when his phone (the wife?) went off.....
thanks for reading guys...
Alan, the softy thing.... getting old mate....
Prop
So this was about right for me. Good stuff.
You should make time to write, that is the whole point after all!
Why don't you try some Flash Fiction, 1000 words max and no minimum. Our mate Veek has a good site.
http://www.flash-fiction-world.com/
The case I was citing, was Shriver's 'Kevin' where the 2nd person had really begun to irk; my amendment is that after 50 pages of slog, I couldn't put the book down. I stopped noticing the 2nd person (or it changed - can't be sure which) and in the end, thought the book fandabbidoobilous.
Click here to sign up now.