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A Lifelong One Night Stand
by Anthony Douglas Gere
I guess the last thing I remember is laying in my bed. I was staring at the
ceiling, more appropriately, the ceiling fan, watching and counting each
rotation as if it was adding up to something greater than the number I lost
count of when I start getting dizzy. But I had this deep feeling of
contentment, and was somewhat basting in its glow and the moment I
kept trying to describe in my mind on what had just happened. I lay there
in my silk boxers with the top half of my moist bare body motionless,
while the bottom half emulated a see saw with my knees. It was
mesmerizing how they kept going up and down and down and up again
for the same reason I was counting the panels on the spinning fan. Come
to think about it, I was somewhat acting child like, giggling on the inside
with the charm that rivals nothing similar. But I know if I had a mirror near
by, I would not see a stern poker stare, but a Cheshire cat grin on my
unshaven face, hiding a secret waiting and wanting to get out. There was
the faint sound of jazzy elevator music in the background, and the
television, which was on mute, was playing what seemed like a video of
hottest flavor of the month pop star showcasing their God given gifts. Now
my bed, which was passionately in a mess and altered from its original
form, had the imprints of bodies moving and positioning themselves in a
desired comfort. My drapes were closely drawn, but rushes of the wind
slid through the slightly opened window that overlooked the water I view
each morning, when I rise and thank God for this position. Now as the
breeze came through and hit the shields that decorated the window and
room, it moved them and caused a rhythmicmovement I then substitute
for the fan. It seemed as though the tighter I closed my eyes, the more I
seen this beautiful vision. I start grinning more and more as my memory
came through like the freshly soiled stains in my fitted sheets. I start
recalling the early part of this adventure, and parlayed the thought of
leaving it as it was, or continuing it on replay in my mind over and over
again. Now knowing the reality of having the future not being the same
as the past, as far as time, effort and a spontaneous reaction to the initial
action, I wanted to keep this lightning in a bottle moment as fresh as
possible. Its like I wanted it to never end but on the other hand, couldn't
wait for the next time it could start over and add to my collection of
memories. But I guess all along I knew I would have to get up sooner or
later, and deal with recreating this lifelong one night stand.
by Anthony Douglas Gere
I guess the last thing I remember is laying in my bed. I was staring at the
ceiling, more appropriately, the ceiling fan, watching and counting each
rotation as if it was adding up to something greater than the number I lost
count of when I start getting dizzy. But I had this deep feeling of
contentment, and was somewhat basting in its glow and the moment I
kept trying to describe in my mind on what had just happened. I lay there
in my silk boxers with the top half of my moist bare body motionless,
while the bottom half emulated a see saw with my knees. It was
mesmerizing how they kept going up and down and down and up again
for the same reason I was counting the panels on the spinning fan. Come
to think about it, I was somewhat acting child like, giggling on the inside
with the charm that rivals nothing similar. But I know if I had a mirror near
by, I would not see a stern poker stare, but a Cheshire cat grin on my
unshaven face, hiding a secret waiting and wanting to get out. There was
the faint sound of jazzy elevator music in the background, and the
television, which was on mute, was playing what seemed like a video of
hottest flavor of the month pop star showcasing their God given gifts. Now
my bed, which was passionately in a mess and altered from its original
form, had the imprints of bodies moving and positioning themselves in a
desired comfort. My drapes were closely drawn, but rushes of the wind
slid through the slightly opened window that overlooked the water I view
each morning, when I rise and thank God for this position. Now as the
breeze came through and hit the shields that decorated the window and
room, it moved them and caused a rhythmicmovement I then substitute
for the fan. It seemed as though the tighter I closed my eyes, the more I
seen this beautiful vision. I start grinning more and more as my memory
came through like the freshly soiled stains in my fitted sheets. I start
recalling the early part of this adventure, and parlayed the thought of
leaving it as it was, or continuing it on replay in my mind over and over
again. Now knowing the reality of having the future not being the same
as the past, as far as time, effort and a spontaneous reaction to the initial
action, I wanted to keep this lightning in a bottle moment as fresh as
possible. Its like I wanted it to never end but on the other hand, couldn't
wait for the next time it could start over and add to my collection of
memories. But I guess all along I knew I would have to get up sooner or
later, and deal with recreating this lifelong one night stand.