Winter Song

He returned to the little brick house in the valley, in the exuberance
of summer. Flowers were blooming everywhere and cold winter frost was
a distant memory. The little wooden door was exactly as he remembered
it, even though the last time he walked through was two decades ago.
He was old and grey now, and so was his little lady. An aching pain in
his heart said she might not let him in, after all the faces he's
seen. But he knew that her love was true. She'd spent the flower of
her beautiful youth in his memory and every sunshiney day taking care
of his children. Now there would be no dancing in the rain or making
angels in the gentle snow. They were both terribly spent and the
winter of their love had begun, but he thought they would salvage it
still.

On certain days, she was merely a distraction. He stared sleepily at
her, across the boardroom and dreamed of more than her brains. This
happened often.

To be continued...

She walks through rows and rows of sodden books, feeling at home with the smell of mould. These books are probably old enough to be my father, she thinks and giggles involuntarily. Suddenly a thousand eyes are glaring up at her wondering why a girl would giggle to herself. She thinks nothing of it and goes down the line.

Moving along, she falls into each book. She must feel it voluptuously beneath her skin, before she can take a book home. This has always been her personal practice. But as she moves down the line, she knows she’s being watched. A young man follows with diligence. She wonders, Could he really be interested in all the same books as I am?

To be continued...

Sans Souci

“You should see her in trousers”, he said.

“Aah, the darling girl!”

“She looks so good in them; you’d piss away your dreams to have her”

“Wow. I bet you’ve seen her without them too, right?”

“Well…”, he purred like a milk-fed kitten, “let’s just say I sold my soul, one dollar at a time to get her there.”

“Totally worth it! So where do you plan to sleep tonight?”

The former is response-less, he melts into his scotch with unfailing dignity and smiles.

"Sans souci..."

Inspiration:

“What can I do? What can I be?
When I'm with you I want to stay there
If I'm true I'll never leave
And if I do I know the way back”

- The Beatles