draft from a scene from unwritten novel

And under our blue skies
Marble movie skies

____Daniel, Bat for Lashes











untitled, m(air)y


he watched her sit by the pool. she sat on the ledge with her feet in. sometimes she'd kick once or twice, and lift her feet out of water and her quadriceps would clench. then back down. she wore an oversized tshirt that ended up looking like a dress(of sorts). she stared.
___all this time he fidgeted. concentrated on absorbing sun into his skin. looked at her. contemplated her brown long hair. tried to read. scrolled through the songs on his iPod and tried to close his eyes and find something that was his alone. clear. himself. finally, he took his headphones out. and sat up. hey, you ok? he asked. it'd been almost two hours. that's a long time to sit by the pool staring at your feet and the blue water and nothing much. she didn't answer at first he thought maybe she hadn't heard him. he kept looking at her, not letting the issue drop. keeping something alive just by looking at her and waiting. finally, he saw her slowly turn her head, side to side. just twice. side to side. with a sad smirk on her face. f*ck knows buddy she said at last, f*ck knows. came out soo haunted and she sounded different from what he expected. the words... like they had just announced a new season. begun a novel. i feel that he said in response, and relaxed down onto his back again. actually, he had understood her perfectly, and he required no other words- what she had said was enough. she had turned her head one more time side to side and had held it to one side looking at him. she had one eye closed, wincing in the glare. what about you boss? she asked. he held still. staring up at the blue sky, not a cloud. just blue. eerie as all hell. he gave a sigh. no matter what i do, i wake up the next morning. she nodded in the direction of her feet in the water. yah. one of those patterns. he didn't respond. just kept on looking at nothing in the sky thinking about nothing. you know what i think? she asked. i think you think about Chet Baker.
__- what?
__- huh? __oh, nothing. i'm just being silly.
__- Chet Baker huh?
__- why not?
__- why not. __why not pancakes?
__- clam chowder?
__- yah. , why not Monday afternoon?
__- true. or Mussolini.
__- radiohead.
__- Fellini.
__- sextets.
__- cosines.
__- transatlantic air travel.
__- [sigh]
__- tomorrow?
__- f*ck knows, __right?
__- yah. not that.


*___*___*

later he walked to Starbucks. slept on the floor in a room with two open-suitcases and nothing else. just a mound with a blanket, a few pillows. the carpet, him, then a blanket. he tried to read Ulysses but it was too heavy and sitting on his chest after a few minutes he'd have trouble inhaling. at 4am he had a bowl of cereal. at 6 he took a shower. wrote the word catalyst in his notebook. wrote la scala, milan. then the sky was blue again. and voices took up where they had left off. good night leading into oh god, you're still up? did you sleep?, the sound of showers.


*___*___*

tell me a secret she asked him. he was gazing out the window. he took his time thinking. i don't really have many... i don't have much to hide. she laughed once. one loud warning shot.
__- what?
__- that just means you hide stuff well. harder to find.
__-__ yeah, __maybe.
she still let him think. didn't say anything. he took a sip. she looked at his face. he looked out the window, watched cars pass him by.
__- i'm scared it'll always be this way.
__- __watching cars go by?
__- [he nods]. yeah. something like that. __how about you?
__- me?
__- ...

__- i fell in the stairwell yesterday. dropped a shopping bag. bruised an apple. i got... just cried.
__- what? why?
__- f*ck knows. __and then picked myself up. went inside. watched So You Think You Can Dance, and wished i could. and crawled under my bed.
__- under?
__- yah.
__- why?
[she just stares at him. he's still looking out the window]
__- don't know.
__- what's it like?
__- it's nice to know the boundaries of something.
__- i hear that.
__- yah.