After a half hour of rolling around the mattress naked, Olive commandeered the cotton quit and yarned afghan while Silas itched from a woolen blanket. He was on his back staring at a cracked water steam pipe. It sweated as Zola took a shower, upstairs.The effects of the pill were becoming pronounced.
“Liv, even my teeth are happy.”
She laughed and rolled on top of him. Her long, wavy hair covered the left side of her face.
“I found a new way to make you smile.”
Silas moved his wrists behind his neck. He absorbed the warmth of the ecstasy and her body.
“Sex, drugs, and rock and roll; that’s what we talked about the first night we met, at least we’re consistent. Hey, who else calls you Liv besides me and Zola.”
She scooted down his torso until her face rested on his stomach. Her voice vibrated off his skin.
“One other person, but we don’t have to worry about them anymore, right? Let’s talk about how much you love me.”
She tried to distract him by running her hands down his legs. Silas knew who she was talking about. But his mind was too altered to feel guilt.
“I’m glad we came to Florida but I still wish we’d run to New York. Think about how easy it would be to disappear there? He’s going to end up, on the dirty boulevard, he’s going out, to the dirty boulevard.”
Olive lifted up her head and rolled her eyes at his awkward singing. She drawled.
“Boo you and your damn Lou Reed. I’m glad I accidently left that tape behind in Georgia. He’s a mean old man, and you’re not.”
Silas let out a long, hearty laugh. Olive straddled him then bit her bottom lip.
“Honey, I love it when you’re happy. Remember this sober. Do that for me okay?”
He pulled her down and waited for a kiss. As Olive’s lips approached, her eyes grew and the drug took over.
Lou Reed, one of my artistic heroes, died yesterday at age 71. All of the songs this week on My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog will be from him, in tribute. If you’re not hitting YouTube and or amazon.com or iTunes after reading this post to get educated or enriched by the late great godfather of punk then you’re doing a lot of things wrong. He will be so missed.
This is another new story episode of my serialized fiction short story, Light of Day, about Silas and Olive, two 19-year-old lovers on the run in Florida from Georgia.
This is for the prompt “boo” 3 (verb)
to show dislike or disapproval of someone or something by shouting “Boo”
slowly http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/ from Trifecta Writing.
Lou Reed’s 1989 record, New York, featuring the song Silas tries to sing, Dirty Blvd, was a huge college hit when I was 19. The opening track is called Romeo Had Juliette. It fits, here, today.
Are you looking for something interesting and music driven to read? I have two for you. My books, The Ballad of Helene Troy, an underdog story about a female musician in New York City, and Soul To Body, about an ex-1990s guitar player trying to raise his teenage daughter after the death of his wife, her mother, are available, digitally, on Amazon.com for your kindles, and in paperback from Lulu.com