How Quickly Does Love Arrive?

Holly Blackmore

The heart of the house was throbbing with those possibilities that accompany the weekend’s arrival, and the suspended notes of some forgotten song. You had materialised before my pink and powdered eyes. We stood separately in a sanctuary of pre-emptive midnight; then we embraced. I wanted to press myself against you, to feel the solidarity of your body against the leanness of my own. We lay motionless together on the couch, people flitting back and forth before us like silver fish, just discernible beneath the glint of a rising surface. Intoxicated, both by liquor and the purest form of lust, this was the beginning of our co-existence.