When Mr. Ex first strolled by in his sedentary style into my life, I observed with mild fascination. He was tall, lean, had long, luscious locks, dimples with a sensuous depth…and pixie ears. Pixie ears that screamed for Blyton’s rightful royalty. He held a cigarette with the tips of his fingers and attacked his lungs with a deliciously slow drag that left a gaping crater at the base of his neck.
It was an exciting addiction…
I would watch his limbs flow in a graceful rhythm. His gait excited me, I would almost compensate for his lack of urgency with my pacing heartbeat. ‘The only problem with life is that it has no background music.’ And he would smile dangerously every time he caught me reading that on his T-shirt.
The day I confessed was the day Mr. Ex did 12 shots. “Can’t you see he is a bad guy!” I smiled knowingly and looked across. His long, slender fingers ran through his hair and he exhaled with some satisfaction. Our gazes locked for a second and then, he winked. “Inebriation becomes him, he disregards sobriety with such disdain!”
He was walking over, my heart was making a racket. The silver in his pixie ear caught my eye and our gazes broke for a second. By now he was standing beside my table and grinning mischievously.
“The neighbour’s daughter refuses to elope with the Nepali chauffeur. Boring girl.” Here he shook his head. “And moral discretion is exhausting. Care to join me for a session of ‘who can spot the constellation’?”
I shut my eyes, and his voice became deeper.
“It is a clear sky.”
“I am not very good with constellations.”
“You don’t have to be.”
He broke into a smile and suddenly in the dark all I could see was his personal Cheshire cat in the dazzling 32. I let him take my hand and felt his warmth seeping through my clammy palm. But in the clamour in my head I heard the genius of Wilde strike a crippling blow to morality, ‘People are not good or bad, just charming or tedious.’
Oh Mr. Ex was charming all right ;-)
It was an exciting addiction…
I would watch his limbs flow in a graceful rhythm. His gait excited me, I would almost compensate for his lack of urgency with my pacing heartbeat. ‘The only problem with life is that it has no background music.’ And he would smile dangerously every time he caught me reading that on his T-shirt.
The day I confessed was the day Mr. Ex did 12 shots. “Can’t you see he is a bad guy!” I smiled knowingly and looked across. His long, slender fingers ran through his hair and he exhaled with some satisfaction. Our gazes locked for a second and then, he winked. “Inebriation becomes him, he disregards sobriety with such disdain!”
He was walking over, my heart was making a racket. The silver in his pixie ear caught my eye and our gazes broke for a second. By now he was standing beside my table and grinning mischievously.
“The neighbour’s daughter refuses to elope with the Nepali chauffeur. Boring girl.” Here he shook his head. “And moral discretion is exhausting. Care to join me for a session of ‘who can spot the constellation’?”
I shut my eyes, and his voice became deeper.
“It is a clear sky.”
“I am not very good with constellations.”
“You don’t have to be.”
He broke into a smile and suddenly in the dark all I could see was his personal Cheshire cat in the dazzling 32. I let him take my hand and felt his warmth seeping through my clammy palm. But in the clamour in my head I heard the genius of Wilde strike a crippling blow to morality, ‘People are not good or bad, just charming or tedious.’
Oh Mr. Ex was charming all right ;-)
3 comments:
"He was tall, lean, had long, luscious locks, dimples with a sensuous depth…and pixie ears"
For a moment I thought that was an almost perfecto description of Kartikay. ;)
eeeks! maybe i should have added a 'all charaters are fictitious...' ;-)
‘People are not good or bad, just charming or tedious.’ - What a line!
but continue this... awesome stuff!
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