Cold Spark

She didn’t know when they kissed first, a vague memory of his lips colliding against hers and the semi-shocked gasp. It was after the seedy bar and the cigarettes and the sticky sweet liquid that made her grin and giggle.

Focus faded and there was dancing and so many silly drunken pictures. Then there were his lips and friends sitting down to blackjack and her thinking oh so clearly – we’ve got to get out of here.

There were words that tumbled from her tongue, his arms around her, more collision of lips and tongues and teeth. “Do you have a key?” Then they were gone. Her legs snaking their way through the dizzying halls of the casino to the giant glass doors that led to the boardwalk and intrigue and promise.

It was after-rainstorm windy on the cold beach. Grains of sand followed the flicks of her flip-flops and stuck to her sweaty, pumping legs. He couldn’t light it. The click of the lighter produced no flame. The wind whipped by, taking her goal with it.

She was determined. He had lost hope, almost given up. Alcohol-sheik fled them, leaving her feeling sloppy, stupid. She chased the buzz, addicted by the promise of destruction, the ability to alter her mind, her reality. She wanted that control; she wanted that decision. She wanted that lighter.

It sparked. Under the pier as she leaned against a thick wooden beam. He said something about her being sexy, lighting the joint in the dark wind of the sandy shore. It was sexy – the whole damn scenario of bad lighting, bad wind and sweet sweet smoke that billowed and warmed and took her away.

There was the ocean then. Those salty heavy waves that kept lapping against the sand, sucking back the beach, her mind. She grabbed a shell and stowed it in her bag, a memento for later. Sh knew this would be a moment to hold on to and mull over and dream about: the beach and wavering senselessness and the fucking beauty of life – of decisions and directions and the echoed ebb and flow of those intoxicating salty crests.

He said it first. They had to go back. Not a bone in her body wanted to leave that shore, that moment. But she followed. The leaving made her think of the left. And the left made her think of the unknown ahead. The mystery of endless possibility. And as one high faded another moved in.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s