only one who knows

The Haze

It was an evening when I had nothing to do. I was feeling quite down at the moment. Couldn't even get up from the couch and make some tea for myself. I couldn't stop thinking about the holidays in San Tropez. Steve also said there might be a small chance that we will be visiting Pompeii next year and, if it's true, that would be so incredibly amazing!
I was watching TV, too lazy to get up and change the channel, kept watching waiting for something interesting to come up. When a documentary about Brazilian music appeared on the screen. I knew many of those artists just from hearing their names. Raul Seixas, Chico Buarque and Milton Nascimento were there. I love how this nostalgic and youthful feeling is always present in Brazilian music, even when the lyrics are political or even sad. They were still living a military dictatorship for six years now and many artists were deported to Europe. Some of them were living in England, maybe just a few blocks away from where I was.

I was waiting for Roger to arrive. I had only gone to work for half of the day and wasn't really in the mood to go to the studio. However, I still went to grocery shopping downtown after work and benefited from my free time to look for some new clothes. I bought red shorts, a swimsuit, a silk scarf, a colourful polka shirt and purple velvet bell-bottoms. Most of the clothes were second-hand, however the textiles were so soft and incredibly bright and pretty. Looked like new. I was convinced to take the pants when the girl at the cashier said those fitted me like a glove. I also bought perfume, lipstick and mascara. Despite not being much fond of make-up, I wanted to try something Twiggy-like. Turns out that make over was much more complicated to do than what I had expected, so I found myself satisfied with a much simpler look.

I heard a scratch coming from the door outside and it was the cat. I hadn't named him yet. Sam, I thought, was the best name for him. A little tribute to Syd. I opened the front door and re-filled his bowl with fresh water and food and played with him for a little while. He was happy to see me and wouldn't stop meowing.
I went back inside after awhile and lied again on the couch. I heard a car approaching and stopping, David's and Roger's voice and then the rambling of the car's motor would fade away into the distance until I couldn't hear it anymore. Quietly, the front door would open and Roger would enter.

“Oh, you're awake.” he said “I feel like dying from exhaustion.”

I was turning my face to look at him when I felt his weight falling on the top of me.

“Jesus Christ, George Roger Waters, I almost died. Get up!!” I screamed and laughed

“No, I'm falling asleep right here and now.” he mumbled with his voice muffled on my hair.

“No, first you take a bath, then you can sleep.”

“You smell so nice.”

“Rog, get up, come on.”

“Come with me.”

He finally got up and did as I said, going to the bathroom and taking a well deserved shower and I followed him. He washed my hair and I washed his and we kissed under the shower. When we were finished, we would later fill up the bath tub and would both just sit down and talk and play with the soap foam. We played Who Am I with paper taped to our foreheads.

“Am I a man?” he asked

“Yes, you are.”

“Am I... clever?”

“A lot. Probably the cleverest man ever.”

“I'm me!”

“No!” I giggled “My turn!”

He lit up a cigarette.

“Am I a woman?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Am I... a singer?”

“No.”

“An actress, then?”

“Thats right.”

“Okay... Let me see... Do I have brown hair?”

“Yes.”

“Am I American?”

“Nop. My turn. Now...” he took a drag and thought for a while “Am I a real person?”

“No.”

“So I'm a fictional character?”

“Yes. Probably the most well-known character ever.”

“My name is the main title of books?”

“Oddly specific. Yes.”

“Am I from the Nineteen Century?”

“Yep.”

“Do I have a partner and solve crimes with him?”

I giggled and nodded.

“I am Sherlock Holmes!” he shot

“Yep. That was easy. Now I need to find out who I am. Hm...” I started to play with the water in my hands, thinking on what to ask “Have I played in Breakfast At Tiffany's?” I shot

“Are you cheating?”

“No, I swear I am not! Answer me!”

“Yes, you have.” he rolled his eyes and smirked

“I am Audrey Hepburn!”

“How did you find out?”

“Pure luck? Heh.” I shrugged and smiled, proud of myself.

I layed down on his chest and he put his arms around me. I felt so protected there, in the warm water and his embrace. I felt like an embryo in its mum's belly, growing up in the warm love of its progenitor, immersed in the dark haze and protected from the cold and cruelty of the world outside.
He left small and passionate kisses on my neck, his soft breathing against my skin, making the hair in the back of my head stand up.

All this love is all I am...

I almost fell asleep, drifting from dreams to reality. When the water turned cold, Roger woke me up and wrapped a big and thick towel around me. It smelled so nice of fabric softener. He drained the tube, carried me to bed, dried up my hair and handed me one of his shirts. I put on the long white shirt and slipped into the bedsheets. He followed after me with his black underwear and an also white t-shirt. We cuddled and fell asleep into each other's arms, leaving no free space between our bodies.