Morning breathA Story by MrBeckwithWaking up the morning after a night on town. Waking up with a stranger next to you.There is bad morning breath. Not
sure if it’s his or mine. Cannot decide on the winds in the room; the air
conditioning from the hallway. Uncertain
of exactly how he ended here; last night’s still being sort of dim. The light
bulb going soft after the third shot of Jaegermeister. Then heading off to New
York. Was
he with me by then? I
am almost sure I never went to Cruz.
I shut the eyelids. Not yet under
any strain of headache, but I usually don’t allow myself to fall as hard as
last night. I know I don’t act is if I’ve lost it. Still seem very much in
control of the situation. This
is why I don’t do it. There is no appreciation for awaking next to a stranger.
Besides, I need a new apartment. Re-opening
the eyes. Hello world! Very conscious. Did
we take a cab home last night? Unconscious. I
can feel the muscles in his body starting to twitch. No reason to prolong the
process. So I turn sideways, then switches back. He is awake now, at least
almost. Soon. I can offer a cup of tea. Then I should head out. There is a full
Sunday to take care of. Besides, I experience too little of the city. As
I was talking to a colleague at work, her telling me of how she and the husband
head out of the city at least one weekend every month. Mine realising how my
routine has been the same ever since I moved to the city. I have not seen more than I would have time to
see in two months - not counting bodies and sometimes faces. I walk the same
streets to work every day, run the same paths, visit the same bars, gym,
grocery store (almost), clothing stores, cafés (though those are several). I
am seen as a well-experienced person. By colleagues, friends, and lovers. The
family always sharing the sentiment of how they were left by their youngest
son. How he is never coming home.
Morning, he says. I think he is
trying to smile. Sound charming. Morning. Did
you sleep well? I
did. Headache,
much? Not
really, I say. Short tone. I cut him off. He is sort of handsome with somewhat
blonde locks. Maybe a little reddish. Though there are definitely no freckles.
Do you want tea, I ask him. Coffee? I
only have instant. That’s
fine. He is smiling. He had a nice body. I can see how he is a little soft at
the edges. Blue eyes. He is somewhat tall. At least six feet. I
get out of bed, and as I walk towards the bathroom I see his eyes fixed on my
a*s. It’s good. I know I have a good a*s. He can look. Soon
he’ll be gone.
Nice apartment, he says. I hope you
didn’t mind mine using your used towel. I
don’t mind, I tell him. He has showered and put on clothes and sits down at the
kitchen table and looks to me. I
feel so tall here, he says. I like these chairs, he continues, almost like
barstools. This apartment is sort of how I imagined I would live. Yes? Yes,
you know, bright colours, not too much furniture, the high stools, and the gas
oven. Besides, I like your bed. Are
you staying I’m a gay stereotype? He
laughs. And just when I reach the fridge, the pot screams. I pour the boiling
water into his instant coffee before I make my tea. I much prefer the smell of
bergamot to that of the brown powder making the water almost black. May
I ask, he says. What is your name? Jon,
I say. You? Knut. Yes? Yes.
Originally from Oslo, he says. I
cannot help but to laugh. I
guess I am the Norwegian cliché. Right? Right.
I still smile at him. Here is your coffee. And
he has a sip of it. I
am sorry to disappoint, I say. But I am not too rich on breakfast material;
just some rye bread and cheese. No
marmalade? He tries to sound shocked. Of
course, I say. Do you want me to make you some scones as well? That would be great. But I don’t want to extend my one night stand-invitation too hard. Maybe another time? Maybe, I say.© 2015 MrBeckwithReviews
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2 Reviews Added on October 13, 2015 Last Updated on October 13, 2015 Tags: Morning after, romance, gay, drama AuthorMrBeckwithStockholm, Stockholm County, SwedenAboutM.sc. in political science. Occasional writer; mostly in Swedish but here to explore writing in English. I read everything from Austen, via youth literature & chick-lit, to Franzen and Hollinghurst. I.. more..Writing
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