Hi. I'm Lee, middle aged and I write. Mostly poetry and short stories. My style is punchy, raw, sour, sickly, bitter and sweet. I post here quite often. Take a look in sometime.
Ezekiel Sykes: Journal of a Daemon.
Don't Drink Alone.
Two Tone
Square pegs/Round holes.
Nine Poems.
Six Poems.
Jazz
/LMR____74 sample chapter 03/05/2014 22:31:23 link
( Nine months ago).
The both fixed their eyes on each other. Accidentally, on purpose this gaze collision was always going to happen. As soon as he entered the bar, as soon as he headed in her general direction. The look and double-take of her face, he did as he walked past her booth, then turned back to where she had slid-hid and was watching and waiting for the right bee to settle within her flower. He was the one, she hoped.
He turned into the booth, which seated four, and sat down opposite her. Her eyes never left him. With his back straight, legs informally wide, he rested his hands on his thighs, not breaking eye contact himself, he sat silent. They didn't share a spoken word for a minute, until she fired the first salvo.
"I thought you were mute, or just ignorant. You just dropped your hefty frame into my booth, stole my leg space and stared. You are......?" She snapped. Perfectly shaped eyebrows, peaked and her smooth forehead creased as she fixed him with the quizzical look and tone.
" I'm Roman, pleased to meet you....? One thing before we continue: How could I take your leg space, when, you know, you don't have any.. Not full length ones, anyway. We can all see the elephant in the room, love." Smiling and shunting his broad shoulders up and down, he gestured, hands parted and palms up: " No offence", he proffered.
" None taken, Mr Roman, none at all. I'm Millie. I'm sorry I was snappy. I am. I do know I have a beautiful face, bewitching, I've been told. Then they see, like you did and they make the faux pas of telling 'escape lies,' badly, like I am a FUCKING retard; like you didn't. You sat down, challenged the situation and won, I am defensive and prickly, I've had to be, Mr Roman, I'm sure you can understand? I wanted to see what your reaction to a legless beauty would be. Well, you have passed I see: your still here. So, would you care to share a drink and a slice of time with me, please"?
"It's Roman, drop the mister. It's just Roman. Calm and tone even, he continued. I will have a drink with you Millie-your paying- and have a slice of whatever your offering: Time? Your favourite chilli recipe? Your opinion on animal cruelty, I don't mind. Or: We can leave the drink, leave here, get a seedy, cheap room, in a seedier, cheaper part of town and let me take you in every hole you were born with? He was staring again. Toying with his juicy, lower lip, between finger and thumb, he watched for her reaction. She didn't flinch, she just absorbed his look.
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