Saturday, 27 June 2009

"We walk north"

Just for a change, we decided to meet in the morning to go swimming in the Lido. Hector kept on about losing weight – said he’d try anything – so we spoke long about the theoretical practise of regular exercise as we walked through the broken up fields near the back of his house. We bumped up against the offer when his mum came home from work. She stood by the kitchen door, picking paint chips off the wall, and suggested it casually. He was surly, warm and closed when his yesses got terser and terser and my enthusiasm faltered. I had my eyes half-shut when I stood up to leave.

His silence when we were walking was built on preoccupation. It wasn’t strained but hung still, unafraid but awkward between us as we slowly swung our things on the long walk up. “Pretty weird, swimming outside in the middle of London”, I said at one point, one eye on an arguing couple on the other side of the road. His irritation was surprising, though mute and wavering. “Mmmm”, was all he had said, but it was pursed and blank and distant and I blanched inwardly, accepted, forgot.

My unease had dampened considerably by the time we got there and I danced into the changing rooms with the funny awkwardness of regular irregularity. We came out of our respective changing rooms at the same time and I caught sight of him standing with his shoulders poised fierce and upright. The rubber realness of his body…..I saw him and felt all of it. The socket punch to our love and closeness, his excruciating self-awareness, the drops of rainfall on his hotdog mouth and on my frizzy hair.


  1. A lot of hate for this, but i know i know i know i have to.....fight it.

  2. I really love this, I don't know how you can feel negatively about it. I'm intrigued what it is that you don't like? I really can't see it?

  3. The character voice feels very inconsistent, the meaning is muddled and i also just find it a bit dull.x

  4. That's iteresting. I find it's slow pace is gripping in itself. I've seen so much this year that's been over-packed with images to the point of being unreadable. Sometimes the best work has been really understated and strong, I find that sort of writing to be very engaging. I do also love the very poetic writing you do, but this is just different, not dull.