Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Rid of Me

You're not rid of me
No, you're not rid me
I'll make you lick my injuries
     --P.J. Harvey, Rid of Me

He drank alone at the bar.

The crowd bumped him. Oozed and churned. An elbow pushed into ear, then apologized.

Words scrolled across the television screen above the bottles of alcohol. It was an on-going transcript for a baseball game. Reading the commentary was even more ludicrous than listening to it.

He trailed his fingers on the sweat of his dwindling drink.

His mind wandered to the memory of her ankle. And the smoothness of her inner thigh. And even deeper where her breath trembled with a mix of fire and overload.

An elbow pushed into his ear.

And didn’t apologize.


Laurel said...

PJ Harvey is one of dear hubby's favorites! Also, steamy and seedy post. I can feel the beer-sticky footrail on the barstool.

Shadow said...

wow..... this is nice!

Raj said...

lol! amusing :)
and random!

the walking man said...

You can't fire without the overload.

You're character should have done the guy thing and just fallen asleep because when the second elbow came I would have had to...lose the memory and come back to reality.

Oddyoddyo13 said...

This was so vivid....And you're right about the baseball. I give props to whoever plays it, but sadly I can only make it about half of the first inning.

Lee said...

Why is it that those past ghosts seem to linger and haunt? Is it that we can't get rid of them or we simply do not want to?

jason evans said...

Laurel, I think I need to explore P.J.'s music more. I can't help but admire her range and rawness. (And thanks for the feedback on the atmosphere!)

Shadow, it's like a little slice of a endless cycle.

Raj, I love random.

Walking Man, he'd probably welcome some sleep.

Oddyoddyo13, long ago, I used to play. But man, I really can't bring myself to watch anything but a championship game, provided that the Phillies are in it. Never could.

Lee, the tendrils of our compulsions run so deep. It's hard to speak in terms of volition when we weren't fully aware of the reasons for our actions in the first place.

Seré said...

I read your vivid scenes and poetry, and I wonder about that novel of yours. It's gotta be good!

jason evans said...

Sere, what a sweet thing to say! Thanks, my friend.

Erratic Thoughts said...

:D Gee, that was good...