chicks, pants, showing it all, dancing


See the Shadows of Innocence and Sanity

a shadow of the day

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chicks, pants, showing it all, dancing
From Nix.

It is so early in the morning; the dark is still covering every nook of the room. The line of storms rolling across Boston feels like Hurricane Katrina has hit again, though it has been a long while since then. It is raining like the world is at an end and I cannot seem to stop it. I feel the storm building and building, like an itch of static across the back of my neck. I can feel it like a rocking in my bones that is calling for me.

They are both asleep, and I did not want to disturb them this time. He is asleep in the chair, where he had fallen asleep after having to stay up late to finish some paperwork. He had stayed awake past 1 this time, the light burning low in the room illuminating stacks of contracts that had been there since he had come home at 5 that afternoon. I kissed him then, and left him to the work he had been doing. I smile, covering him with a blanket, not wanting him to be stiff when he woke later.

She is still asleep in our bed, curled around where I was only a moment ago. I am padding around the room, and my eye is still drawn back to her, even though we have been together this long. I do not understand it, but I cannot fight the feeling. I step over to her a moment, dropping a kiss on her forehead, before stepping out onto the balcony and shutting the door behind me.

The storm is raging outside, and I can feel it ease the storm that is roiling deep inside of me. The rain is falling heavy around me, the overhang of the roof shielding me just enough as I lean back against the sliding glass doors to our bedroom, watching the distant skyline. Everything is shrouded in dark and grey, like the moon is being filtered out by the heavy clouds, but is still fighting to be seen. I am feeling tight as a drum, and my bones feel heavy and rocking in their sockets as the rain continues to pound down on the balcony only a step or two away. I can feel the splashes around my ankles, reminding me that I should have worn more clothes than this to step outside, but I cannot be bothered to go back in for some pants now. I shiver a bit, and step out into the rain.

The storm is blowing hard, trying to push the rain east and west and anyway but down. And as I am standing there, drenched through silken boxers and down to the restless skeleton of me, everything just seems to still. There is a curtain of rain around me, with the lightning streaking miles across the sky and the thunder a counterpoint to the sounds of my breathing. I wonder what would happen if I were struck by lightning now, a man standing on the brink with his hands wrapped around a cast –iron railing and slick with rain. I do not think I would mind it much.

The storm inside eases like the storm without, moving on, beyond the house where I live and on to other likely targets. It is almost cleansing, and I can breathe again, seeing it cloud in front of my eyes as the temperature nudges down a few degrees. I feel a towel enfold me from behind, and two pairs of lips kissing at each cheek, murmuring how I should be inside instead of standing out in the rain.


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