Nine Lives

The Lego City

And with that, Blake spun me round to face the line of high treetops that spread down a sloping hill, each branch only inches shorter than the others, like an audience to the greatest, most incredible show on earth.

In the depths of the horizon stood bursts of technicolour, spirals of light covering the midnight hour. A real life lego city stood before me. To my left, yellow blocks built high skyscrapers and office buildings of gold, the deep haze enlightening soft stings of pastels that creeped in from forgotten lights and wasted batteries. To my right, red blocks of industrial hotels and flats cornered every ounce of city lines, lives living beyond the red brick that kept them safe from the elements. To my centre, blue sirens flickered through the winding roads of a rivers meander, windows reflecting stories as the bright blocks tarnished the entirety of a industrialised dream. I imagined a young girl, curls sprouting from her brushed head and an oversized nightgown flowing behind her like the lovechild of Godzilla and Mother Teresa. She held bricks in her enormous hands, rebuilding and destructing. Her fathers side destroyed what man did not need, her mothers side rebuilding what nature only enhanced. She smiled and screamed as she invaded the city, blue bricks continuing to appear as sirens illuminated the ripped ears of her cotton bunny slippers. Pigtails swayed in the chop of helicopter wings, big, menacing machines of varnished grey blocks that only ever got thrown to one side. She took charge of the city, not a monster, but an angel, looking out over her citizens and innocently rebuilding their lives from a bigger perspective. With threat, I watched her skip into the darkness of the surrounding trees, natures sublimity a bubble of safety for her before the city needed saving once again.

A lego city. From up here, it was a universe away. My bricks from childhood, I could feel them in my hands. The plastic building blocks that morphed creativity, enhanced imagination. Projected in front of me was a world of innocence. No people up here; no expectations up here; no judgement up here: just blissful peace.

Blakes hands held my frozen waist. I couldn't take my eyes away from the view, the cities outline filling my vision from every possible angle. "Incredible, huh?"

I could feel the warmth of his breath against my ear, the hug from earlier that day reversed as he held me from behind, steadying me from falling over the immensely overwhelming sights. He cradled me, appreciating natures beauty of sharing a world with industrialisation. From up here, two worlds collided. Urban and rural no longer fought, but formed an alliance. Mixing their paints, red and blue created towers of purple dusk.

I was totally mesmerised by the view before me - I could just imagine it printed and positioned in Blakes lense, exposure and highlights morphing the seemingly impossible task of capturing the entirety of this spots utter gorgeousness. The buildings lit up like beckons in the midnight, the horizon pulling an ebony curtain over the cities glow as a cloud glided across the skyline. I turned my face upwards, closing my eyes and feeling every single cell from his fingerprints find their way onto my blistering skin. As I let the cool breeze cover my neck, the hands became more comfortable with their surroundings. Instead of only slightly encountering a semi of my waist, Blakes palms were now gently pressing into my hips, firmly holding my figure in place while caressing his thumb up and down, aiding the layer of ice that had yet to be melted.

The novelty was, I let him. This was our moment, our precious, secret, exciting moment. I was not going to ruin it...my last adventure was too good to be true.

Still admiring the crown jewels of materialism, I let my blazer fly in the wind, an identical superhero next to Blakes flying cape. "I have never seen anything so beautiful."

Blake rested his head upon mine, the familiar feeling of his stubble gristly against my scalp, yet weirdly comforting. He gripped my hips tighter, yet made importance of being gentle. "I have..."