The men all had that same greedy look in their eyes, except for him. It was different. Vastly different. It looked like adoration or maybe I was just mistaking it for lust, I always seemed to do that.
My hands were still tangled in the strands...
The night always sung to me, in whispers. It told me things I shouldn't know but as well as things that I should. It was a safe haven; most of the time. When the wind picked up and the breeze swept through your hair as the empty darkened sky shone down on your skin, it was magical. Whimsical. Theatrical in a way.
But tonight it didn't sing, it hung there frozen with no breeze but a hotness. Warmness radiated instead of the feeling of being chilled. No magical feeling. The moonlight was still there from the full moon, at least it never left. It never left it always stayed in that spot all day and all night looking down on us judging our ways of life. Watching out for our traits of misconduct as well as luck, at least I loved to imagine so.
Imagination was the key to this whole thing; Earth. Nothing was real here not even time itself was real. So who was to say we were real? If anything I could be the figment of a crazy person's imagination and not even be living. A dead person that still lives on in one's hippocampus. A character thriving off of the watcher's desperation. In the end, we never knew.
The door was painted white, just like all the others on the street. Laid amongst it was a suburban house, a suburban house surrounded by the same exact models except for the numbers that hung next to the white doors. At first it was very confusing seeing as how every house had looked exactly the same and made it hard to know which was ours. But you put a gnome outside and the problem is solved.
And now that gnome judged us and every person that walked through these doors. It's beady eyes watching every desperate being enter and exit or our late night escapes and early morning comings. Such a judgmental ceramic statue.
Once I had entered through the door it was hazy, the air. I knew immediately right away that Ira had his friends over that he does every Tuesday night. It was the typical poker game with smokes, weed, alcohol, and occasional fight that ended up closing the night up. Tonight I couldn't be bothered though to stay and chat to new and old faces. Just a kiss and head out.
Work was extra tiring tonight, a bachelor party. Three of them. And they were all sleazy men looking for the last night of being able to be with another woman. Such miserable fuckfaces.
When I enter the dining room the first thing with emotions to notice me was Spike. He laid flat down on the floor underneath the table only lifting his head an inch before putting it back down again to sleep. Spike was a Doberman Pinscher, Ira had always dreamed of having of him even though I'm the one who took more care of it than him.
None of the men around the table had noticed me except for Ira. He was so beautiful and dreamy. The man everybody dreamed of having that could take care of them and of everything else on this damned planet. A smirk covers his face along with a trade of cards held tightly in his hands.
Throwing his cards onto the table all the dirty men looked over at surprise at him. Smoke poured out of his mouth as he waved off the men calling the night off early for everyone. They all sneered before they scraped their chairs on the wood floor grumpily walking out leaving my lover and I to ourselves.
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