Together we will go, hand in hand, to watch the dawn rise over the elbows of your local illicit marmalade dealer. Then we will breakfast on anchovies in cardigans at that delightful little café where the waitress sneezes into your green tea with all the charm and subtlety of a lightly-buttered hippopotamus exiting a Reliant Robin.
Then we will go on to the shopping mall of all our nightmares. A place where even the stone-clad faces of the make-up sellers will shatter into thousands of tiny pieces of long-destroyed skin as they see us riding, naked and freshly-perfumed with the essence of stunned weasel, on our tandem across their burger-carton strewn mezzanines whilst singing a medley of Lithuanian folk tunes.
Still, those were the days, eh? You could tell because they started early in the morning, carried on through midday into the afternoon, followed closely by the evening and then, finally, the darkness of the night.
Oh, how we laughed. Once. But that was the first time you'd seen me naked and proud. Since then I have learnt to appreciate your pity. So, now I no longer blush as we ride our tandem past the vegetable stalls and you gaze longingly at the cucumbers.
No comments:
Post a Comment