Sinister: Love Is...

[idleberry]

In the mornings, when I am dressed for work, and have
a bowl of cereal in my hands, my soaking wet hair tied
in a turban of a towel, I go to draw the curtains in
the livingroom.

And more often than not, I see Mick C.

He sits in the street, watching the house. And as soon
as he spots a twitch of the curtains, Mick runs over,
and starts tapping at the window.

Sometimes, I just watch him, and don't do anything, I
just eat. Sometimes, I hide from his view. Sometimes
though, he comes into the house in the morning.

He heads straight to the kitchen, for a bite to eat.
Then he follows me around, to the bathroom, while I
brush my teeth, or sits, perched on the end of my bed,
and watches me in the mirror while I dry my hair.
Sometimes he watches me put on my make up, and he'll
pick up my blusher brush and play with it for a bit. 

He waits for me after work too. He knows what time I
get home, and hes there, standing in the street
waiting for me. He knows what tme I usually get home,
and if I am late, he gives me a really dirty look. 

Hes a bit of an odd one, Mick. We have this strange
relationship. Sometimes we ignore each other totally.
Othertimes, we lie close together, cuddling, and I
might purr a bit in his ear. 

He likes to play with my nail files too. He'll scratch
his nails along it - I think he likes the feel. 

When I finish my driving lessons, he waits for me,
pacing impatiently up and down outside the car,
glaring in the window, while I pay the instructor. 

I have to say, I did catch him in my brothers bedroom
one day, sniffing his underwear. He won't appreciate
me telling you that of course. I left him to it.

He had a bushy eyebrow the other night. I threatened
to pluck it. It made him look like Norman Lammont.

****************

Theres another in my life too. Only, we've never
actually met. Its an unrequited crush, on my part.

All through the summer, when I take the train to work,
it passes by these flats. 

And I've seen this gorgeous italian type by one of
these flats, just outside, every morning. 

The italian must be over 40 years old, I think, and
quite sexy, in an unconventional way.

I often find myself gazing at him, fantasising about
him. What it would be like to go out with him. What
outfit I would wear.

Out of my league, of course, but it doesn't stop a
girl from imagining. Me and him, together, listening
to Simon and Garfunkel maybe, on sunny afternoons,
going to the beach.

So I'm inexperienced, and maybe, hes had more women
than I've had hot dinners. But I can't help but wish
he was mine. Theres a song, which reminds me of him,
and when I see him, the lyrics to that song get stuck
in my head. 

The song irritated me so much so, that I actually
ended up having to buy the record, and play the song
over and over, until I was sick fed up of it, and
could put it to rest. 

He wasn't there this morning. I wonder if hes got
someone new in his life. 

Smitten style Love

Idles
xx











=====
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/corduroysmoke/ starting playground gossip and passing notes

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