HOLIDAY

It didn't rain a lot during our holiday. However, we made the most of it. Whenever it rained we would get all over excited, shut the windows and watch the rain smearing down the window pane while we started undressing with a sort of teenage fever. Soon the windows would be all steamy. Our moaning and panting would excite us even more. His big hands would run over my back, trying to memorize every curve, slope and valley of my geography. He would kiss me with his eyes, not only with his lips and mouth. He drank me wholly with those blue-rimmed hazel irises. He wanted to etch me so when he went back I would still be there whenever he closed his eyes. I would try and memorize his smell, his feeling, his prickly skin, his tautness, his softness, his gutural voice, his taste, so when he left I would still have him in my bed.

Other days we would go walking holding hands to the park. There we would pick a bench, sit on it and make plans for our very remote future. We would buy bread crumbs for the ducks and feed them until fed up. We would buy ice cream and devour it. We might end up in a cinema theatre or in the supermarket, buying something for dinner. We would cook, serve, eat, wash and then go to bed. Going to bed was a marvelous experience. I would talk and talk until he could no longer pay any more attention. Then I would watch him sleep, on his side and roll back and forth. I could barely sleep, giving no credit to the bliss I was living at the moment. When I woke up he was usually watching me, the house already smelling of coffee and he by my side, perfectly naked, ready to take advantage of the shining hours.

Sometimes it would rain. But no, it didn't rain a lot during our holiday.