My Dinosaur Era Chapter 11 *Rewrite*

 

there were three more beers in the hole

shunted myself further away from the bar with each glass

ended up on a table by the toilets

breathing in wafts of piss as time passed

 

big days on the beer tend to taper away

the promise fizzles

the will to carry on doing this wanes

you stop believing that this is the answer

ashamed of your own familiar self

that has nowhere else to go

 

I swapped the pub for sainsburys

meal deal, chicken triple

quavers

energy drink to replenish my molten liver

walking along western road

umbrellas inside out in this wind

a cyclist wavers against the kerb

front wheel out of control

one hand hanging onto a hat

barely worth the bother to pedal in the vortex

 

cut through the park

the swings scream out for company

the silver slide, wiped clean under the rain

a glistening puddle awaits a speeding child

a runner fights through it all, every step splashes

the cafe sits barely open, a lone smoker sits at a plastic table

not even bothering to huddle, proud to be braving it

sheets of water shimmer on the tennis courts

the net droops low

a ball would barely bounce here today

 

ginny messages me as I leave the park behind

 

did you meet petula?

 

nah, she was busy

 

I can meet you at three, bunking off early today, where are you?

 

I’m cold and wet now

 

why aren’t you inside you maniac?

 

I start to type an answer under a maple tree

she interrupts

I’ll meet you at the lobster, it’s on my way home

 

I delete my letters

 

yeah, ok

 

I turn and walk back through the park, tracing my steps

observing it all the other way around

the world spins in reverse

 

at the lobster, main bar empty

people in each corner, feels dark

one beer, two beer, one for ginny

she’ll be late

sat in a booth, tv showing basketball with no eyes on it

beer inferior to before, lacks the care of the hole

pump pulled without feeling

affects the taste, prove me wrong

ginny on the lager, bubbles everywhere

might be flat by the time she waltzes in

 

two fifty nine, she comes, a miracle in our world

her hair stuck flat to her head

she looks even smaller wet

sees me, points the other way, gone again

reappears after a few minutes, grabs pint

still standing, one gulp

 

sorry, had to dry my hair in the bog, look at the state of it

 

yeah, I did the same

 

bald prick

 

sits down opposite me, still floofing about with her hair

 

so, how are you, did you go to the hole already?

 

I did, how did you know, did petula say?

 

no she did not, timmy, you are just very predictable in your whereabouts

 

I guess I am

 

what’s she doing that’s more important than comforting you in your hour of need?

 

I’m not in an hour of need and I didn’t tell her about work

 

fair enough, what is she doing then?

 

yoga, work, dentist

 

hmm, sounds plausible I suppose

 

what do you mean sounds plausible?

 

if I was going to make something up, it would be more random, less mundane

 

I don’t think she is making it up

 

yes, that’s what I said timmy

 

my head is spinning

she’s only been her for two minutes 

befuddled me

 

how’s it going with you two? I bet you haven’t even held hands yet

 

we actually have held hands

 

oh, my handsome little boy, all grown up

 

so glad I met you today, always a warm welcome

 

her mocking is adorable

it’s her love language

I lap it up

 

stop being grumpy, timmy, let us drink to your freedom

 

she raises her glass and I raise mine

she shouts

 

to freedom

 

to freedom

 

the barman furrows his brow

he would though

he’s not free like me

 

we drink till seven, I trip up the kerb outside the pub

fall to my knees

ginny picks me up, she’s still standing

 

I’ll take you home, babe

 

I smile and put my arm around her

we stagger along

up the hill, left a bit, ok, we’re here

she comes up to the flat

another drink now we are safe

 

jesus, you’ve decorated

 

yeah, I’ve had the paint for ages

 

was petula here yesterday perchance?

 

yeah, but I didn’t paint the walls for her

 

of course you did, timmy, don’t be silly

 

the words suck up into my drunken head

the remonstration portion of my brain is broken

also, she’s right, again, again, again

 

we sit on the sofa with cans of gin and tonic

I threaten to put some reggae on

she wrestles the record out of my hand

 

no, no, not the fucking downstroke, timmy

 

we laugh so loud

next door’s dog barks at us

ginny barks back

jumping up and down on the sofa

I put on american pie

she groans as the first bar emerges

a long, long time ago

we sing all the words

at least we think we do