Monday, December 21, 2009

doh know what to call fff #14

with brief note @ bottom, my flash fiction friday #14:

no current. not the tiniest spark. as much as you want to feel something, you can’t muster even a shiver for this one. no charge, not a tremor, no tremble, no tingle, zingle or zap, no energy or vibes. hands brush accidentally to no thrills or chills, nothing but bare contact; no electricity, like knuckles passing smoothly over fruit; firm-skinned, sun-warmed but inanimate, life already over. you strain forward, trying to catch a sense of anything, re-disappointed at the continuing lack of fire.
at least there’s food. tamarind-guava barbeque ribs, rosemary+pomegranate-molasses potatoes, some vege so you don’t feel so bad about your consummation (apparently the only one you can count on tonight), and a dry, fruity red. dessert to come; you already secretly debating the warm chocolate vs. cold fruit question.
the ride home is mercifully short, not enough time for the lack of connection to become awkward with the merits of dinner to discuss and itunes shuffling delightfully from toots and the maytals to led zeppelin. pulling up to your gate you note the lack of light with annoyance, wonder aloud whether you forgot or the bulb is blown.
not that you were soliciting, he responds,
“well, yuh know, i find the whole street kinnah dark but couldn’t remember how it look earlier – was goin’ an’ ask…”
“true, eh…”
“no current…”
he parks and announces gentlemanly intent to see you safely inside and candlelit. harmless enough; you acquiesce.
prescient of the absence of heat, you don’t notice him hanging back to admire your velvet outline in night as you reach your gallery at the top of the stairs.
inside the door, you turn back to tell him just have fire ready and stay put in these unfamiliar surroundings while you get candles, and he’s so close your lips graze his chin in the dark.

finally, a jolt. maybe the suddenness, the surprise, maybe the darkness itself, this time you feel him, alive, as he whispers, a low growl in your startled ear making your stomach jump,

author's note: been trying for hours to make myself write more instead of ending it like this, but somehow, i like it best as is. this is where this piece ends this week regardless of how i cajole. it came out this way, and while withstanding editing, has refused to develop more plot. and i kind of like how it makes my stomach feel a rush right as it just stops, abruptly.
walk good.


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