I am currently learning to use more dialogue in my writings.
So far I have mainly written poetry and descriptive stories but I really want to make them more, alive.
Give them a voice
My god, she was flawless, she is a Goddess…
Her tied-back curly blonde hair smelt of oranges and vanilla. And those hands – yes, those God Damned hands. The same ones that she used to caress my body with… I swear to all the Gods that they could bring peace to the most deranged men to walk this earth. Her moan was so soft and loving that I almost forgot what we were doing. In this ethereal moment, I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and never let go, but I am a broken man. And she is an angel… deserving of more than I can give.
I sit in this god-forsaken chair. Women and men around me mingle as if they were alone – not caring about any prying eyes. The music is loud but not loud enough to drown my heart. I am on a hunt. A hunt to forget her grace. Drown my love into the sting of alcohol, the love that I never had the courage to hold.
“Hey, barman!!! Pour me another!” he furrowed his brows as if he had never seen a drunken guy ask for another. Even if I had been a regular for five years by now, “Evan, this is the last one, you are on your own after this,” well, to be truthful I really am on my own, I just got tired of drinking alone in my room after ten years of solitude “Sure… whatever… just make it double. And no ice please.”
The Jack burned my throat, a feeling that could almost bring you down to earth. I felt the buzz in me and it seemed as if I was on a mission to self-destruct. My eyes scanned the dance floor and met the girl that I could have easily fathered. She was grinding herself against a young crook that surely was excited. She smiled at me as whispering god knows what into his ear and bit her lips.
I don’t know how long it had passed but I know that I just couldn’t take my eyes off of her. The thought of “What is she, such a pretty lady, doing here?” crossed my mind many times. I couldn’t fathom the pureness of her eyes and the movements of her hips. So I just did what I knew the best, sipped on my Jack and stared at a stranger.
I downed the half of the glass and as I stood up I felt the world around me turn into a soft space. It spun and my feet hardly held the weight of my body. As I grabbed the jacket my beloved had chosen for me on the days we had been happy and together… I heard a soft voice behind me say: “Mmm daddy, leaving already?”
I had no doubts as to who it was or why she was seeking my attention. After all, I am an old man and I should know how to treat a lady. Maybe she too was on a mission, one that consisted of finding a companion for the night. For a reason I knew too well I should have fled the scene but the scent of her vanilla and orange perfume had me standing there as if I was made out of a stone slab.
She laughed as she spurted out the next words: “What, a cat got your tongue? Can I come with you? This guy creeps me out after I told him I am not interested in going home with him.” It puzzled me as to why she wanted to go with a stranger. After all, I could be a serial killer or something worse. But as I stood there defenseless, since I did miss a woman’s touch, she grabbed me by my hand and leaned into me.
“I noticed you looking at me, I could come home with you.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck and her simile was beautiful. As she leaned into me to kiss me I felt my insides turn but I couldn’t resist her charm. As she pushed me into the bed and undid my buttons I already knew how this will go. I will leave her unsatisfied and on dry this night, the whiskey simply had done her job. But still I let her keep going. I knew there was no way that I could stop her now.
“Hey, hey… you sweet thing,” I muttered as stroked her hair between my legs. She looked up to me almost as if innocent and pure, “I am sorry.” I pulled her up onto my chest and wrapped my arms around her, “Let’s sleep now.”
Needless to say, I couldn’t… even if she instantly dozed off in my arms it felt as if I had to keep guard. I don’t know how long it had been since I had felt this way about a stranger. Slowly stroking her hair I felt that no matter how close I held her to my heart, it wasn’t close enough. I wanted to consume her and for her to make a new home in my ribcage. So that maybe one day, flowers could bloom in there.
I open my eyes halfway into a dream and I hear her walking around the room… when did I fall asleep?
“Grace, come back to bed.” the room fell silent and as I closed my eyes I hear the door open “I am not Grace, my name is Angelica. But I will let it slip since you never asked.”
She left her number on my bedside table with a note.
“Call me, when you feel better.”
I am always willing to hear criticism or thoughts on my poems, I might seem like I will run away crying. But sometimes other people see things, that I don’t.
So comment away or send me a letter through my ask/tell page.