chaosreactor

I stood back and rolled up my sleeves while she howled at the moon from on top of a smooth rock. Her voice cracked a little more each time. She yelped, like a little kid singing and grinned at the sky. What a pair we were, fine ambassadors to this mountain town, carrying on drunk and stupid and in love. The wind still gave hints of winter, though the ambient air smelled thick of grass clippings. I tucked the bottle of beer in my back pocket and covered it up with the back of my shirt. We were druids dancing around stones. We were satyrs playing pipes on so many midsummer nights. We were acting out the animals in rituals to spring. I remember the sound of music entering and retreating as the doors opened and shut at the bar down the road. "You ready to go home?" she asked. "Not quite yet. You want to get another drink?" "I think I can eat." and we shuffled off to a restaurant. As we crawled into bed with souvenir shirts for pajamas, the air conditioner hummed and belched. I would smell the shampoo on her wet air as I drifted off to sleep.