1. Heart Songs
“Ssh, shh,” and I continue singing, the words blending together as eyes grow heavy. Every
night the same pattern, every night the same rhythms falling from my hands; Ba boom, ba
boom—ba boom ba boom.
Ba boom ba boom, da, da, da, da. Energy high as I move to the sound, dancing out the beat,
familiar in this re-mix. I throw a smile carelessly across the room hoping it hits the guy
coming back from the bar with my drink.
“Fire Engine for the red head” he delivers the sweet tonic into my waiting hands.
“Hey, thanks, business commerce.” I grin. He flips unconcerned brown hair away from his
eyes.
“Are you planning on calling me that all night?”
I sip my drink and hold it above my head as I weave back into the throbbing student mass,
“not all night,” I toss back. He can make of it what he likes.
2a.m. He likes blue smarties best. I kick the red ones across the floor with one bare toe, my
leg dangling off the bed, my other leg tucked up underneath me. Skilled hands glide over my
thighs, tracing the seams on the edge of my pants. “You gonna clean those up, red?”
“Hadn’t planned on it, commerce.” I feel myself pulled down onto the pillows, tucked into an
arm like a bookmark. Feathery kisses across my neck.
“Tomorrow?”
“It is tomorrow” I breathe back.
2a.m. Light hair feathering across my neck. The small body tucked into my arm like a
bookmark. My back is stiff and I yearn to stretch and roll away, but don’t dare move for fear
of waking the sleeping form. Eyes finally closed, mouth firmly clamped around a swollen
nipple. It is tomorrow, another day, same as the last. Each night flowing seamlessly into the
next morning, and with every phase of the moon, more grit builds up in my eyes. Tonight it
is a full moon.
The fullness reflects back up at us from under the bridge as we stroll dreamily away from the
lights of the city. I love the security of his hand covering mine, the warmth of our palms
sheltered from the cutting night air slicing across our fingers.
“Are you listening?”
2. “No.” I lean back into him and take in the scent of leather.
“No, me neither.” He chuckles at his own joke. Ideas dance across my mind. I grab his arm
and start pulling him along. “Where are we going?”
“Swimming!” I drop his arm and set off at a sprint towards the man-made lagoon.
“What? Are you mad!? What?” He calls out from where he stands rooted to the spot.
Footsteps behind me. I pick up the pace and try to outrun my pursuer. Arms circle around my
waist.
“Woop woop! AAHHH!!” The war cry rings out and I’m whisked into the icy, blac, pool.
Emerging like a spluttering cat to the music of his laugh and a grin framed by wet hair.
The water splashes everywhere. His squeals of delight accompany the spray of water
descending to the floor. I steady his chubby body as he tips like the leaning tower of Pisa
towards the bath.
“Come on matey” I coo as I scoop the wriggling bundle up into a towel. He chuckles and
chatters while helping the corner of the towel find its way into his mouth. I breathe in the
scent of his baby skin, lost in the sparkle of his eyes. Eyes growing heavy by the time he is
carried, warmly dressed, close to my heart, to the comforting glow emanating from the
lamp next to his cot.
I sit in the rocking chair and hold him to me, watching his perfect little mouth find his sleep-
inducing drug. Shadows play across the walls, flirting with the light peeping in under the
door.
I wake up. Feel someone is watching me. Our eyes meet. “What are you doing?”
“Just lying here looking at the most beautiful girl in the world.” I feel my skin grow warm
and turn to watch the colours merging together across the early morning sky. The weight on
the bed shifts and I find myself looking up into intense brown eyes.
“Marry me.”
“Okay.”
“No I’m serious. Marry me. Every day I see you and think – that’s the woman I want to wake
up next to when I’m old. Those are the eyes I want to see every night before I close mine.
Those are the arms I want to see holding my babies. Marry me.”
I can’t say anything, but my kiss answers for me.
3. “Mum, are you okay?” I look at my son, standing there. Staring back through time.
“I’m fine sweetie.” I ruffle his hair, and turn towards the door. “You’d better get a move on,
the music’s about to start”
Sitting in my seat at the front of the church I watch the man at the altar. He stands so tall,
his careless brown hair struggling against the gel for the right to flop into his eyes. His
favourite smarties are blue.
She enters. Breathtaking. She throws a smile that hits the man standing across the room.
Waiting for her. Making promises, pledging love. She holds her bouquet high as they move
in unison through the cheering masses.
I lean back, feeling the strength of his arms close around my waist, holding me close while
saline drips happily from the corners of my eyes. Our hearts beating out their familiar
rhythm, ba boom, ba boom; as we watch our son with his bride in his arms, dance to the
song.
