beginnings


You took a piss on those Spanish streets whilst I waved down a taxi. I had to wave at everything that moved because I was too drunk to differentiate between taxis and cars. We’d been drinking with the Spanish punks again and it was just you and I trying to make our way home, a Frenchman and an Englishman. All the while I thought of the lovely French lady who’d been helping me to settle in Spain. She was helping me to do more than settle… she was making me fear leaving. Anxiously I spent my time counting down to that dreaded moment… and I’d only just arrived.  By the first or second day of the second week of my stay she haunted my every thought. We exchanged music, I gave her some English and American punk and acoustic rock, she gave me a variety of Spanish pop and rock… she was so excited and spent the day at work listening to what I’d given her. I spent large parts of the weekend listening to what she’d given to me. My heart beat so fast as I listened and thought of her excitement in sharing this. I wondered what else we might share or if it would be destroyed before it even began, for people were already starting to talk about us. We’d been seen at lunch a few times and the way we always smiled and looked at each other in the office had been noticed and noted.  

            To be cont…

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