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© A Mixed Bag
Sky Bruised, Wine Bled
You know how you’re in the midst of a situation and realize while it’s fun, it’s all wrong?
There I was in a pub with amusing friends, a man, Noel, who would give me a ring in an instant but held off because he sensed my apathy, and my sister who was in love with Noel. We laughed, drank bitter, ate marmite crisps, while I fought my constant compulsion to check my cell to see if he had texted, if he had come to his senses and missed me as much as I missed him.
I slipped into the loo where Audioslave’s “Like a Stone” rang tinny in hidden speakers. “I’ll wait for you there…”
I pulled out my cell. No messages. I leaned back against the wall and tried to accept that it was over.
Five hours time difference, where would he be? Fishing? Adding a tattoo to his body? Having a Green Flash beer on the beach with Tiffany?
Buoyed by one too many bitters, I hit speed dial, heard the sound buzz in my ears. Would he pick up when he saw my name? Had he blocked me?
“What took you so long?” he asked.