Before the clock-tower
May. 31st, 2003 11:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
squirmeliaI sent the glob of tasteless chewing gum smeared with saliva on its way, towards the pavement. The guy walking near me immediately clocked the action, scraped the gum onto his hand, and smashed it against the board on the lamp-post. He didn't say a word, but I knew it grated with him. It was just a piece of gum and an over-reaction, but I felt bad, so I offered to buy him some breakfast. This he readily agreed to; not gum, but butterscotch coke and geranium choco-crunch. He sat there, sucking the coke through a twisted straw.
I took a look at him; intrepid hair and screaming eyes, quite neat, I could peer at his tattooed ears all day. I asked him why he'd come here, and he said that this place reeked of expectancy, and the clock-tower, it glowed blue, he could see it from the train. The clock-tower had drawn him towards it, bellowing the time. I was bored of monuments, so I told him he was a fool. He went silent, crunched his geranium snack, staring at me like I just didn't know.
I tried to deeply look, embrace his pupils, concentrating. He stood up, somehow tearful, and disappeared around the corner. With a crunch of a biscuit, he'd be back, I just knew it. I waited, slurped the drink that I'd bought for him earlier, then caroused more gum.
He rounded the corner, sat back down, calmer, but with tragic eyes.
"I know how to get into the tower," I told him, trying to please him, hoping for a chance.
"Yeah? And how is that?" he wanted to know.
"I know where the key is at. Good views soar from the top," I lied about the views.
"Let's go, let's go," he insisted.
I knew of many freaks before that had been fascinated with that clock-tower. Captures them on trains, drains the glow from them. I don't get affected, I'm safe. It doesn't change them when they go up the clock-tower though, they always want their faces to bask like they used to, fresh as uncurdled milk. It just doesn't happen.
I took a look at him; intrepid hair and screaming eyes, quite neat, I could peer at his tattooed ears all day. I asked him why he'd come here, and he said that this place reeked of expectancy, and the clock-tower, it glowed blue, he could see it from the train. The clock-tower had drawn him towards it, bellowing the time. I was bored of monuments, so I told him he was a fool. He went silent, crunched his geranium snack, staring at me like I just didn't know.
I tried to deeply look, embrace his pupils, concentrating. He stood up, somehow tearful, and disappeared around the corner. With a crunch of a biscuit, he'd be back, I just knew it. I waited, slurped the drink that I'd bought for him earlier, then caroused more gum.
He rounded the corner, sat back down, calmer, but with tragic eyes.
"I know how to get into the tower," I told him, trying to please him, hoping for a chance.
"Yeah? And how is that?" he wanted to know.
"I know where the key is at. Good views soar from the top," I lied about the views.
"Let's go, let's go," he insisted.
I knew of many freaks before that had been fascinated with that clock-tower. Captures them on trains, drains the glow from them. I don't get affected, I'm safe. It doesn't change them when they go up the clock-tower though, they always want their faces to bask like they used to, fresh as uncurdled milk. It just doesn't happen.
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Date: 2003-05-31 07:13 am (UTC)true romance. übercute.
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Date: 2003-06-02 07:31 am (UTC)