[i]
Waking up at 11:12 a.m.
Peach. Figs. Plum. Orange Juice.
Just another schizophrenic day in Virginia Beach – rain
crashing down on the streets for an hour – then the blazing sunlight takes over
– then more rain.
I gave Jessa Potter permission to “crass-ify” the coffee
table. She took the opportunity full heartedly and this is what came of her
fixation...
Scrambled Eggs with Hummus. Five Guys French Fries with
Ketchup. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.
Rain. Rain. Rain.
It seems that we’ve been getting a lot of rainbows lately, I
guess to coincide with the rain. I probably see at least two per week. Virginia
Beach is a rainforest.
7 out of 10 orders today have been such an ordeal to
deliver. I don’t understand the confusion that occurs. How hard can it be to
take the food from this car and transfer it behind that door? Apparently,
extremely difficult.
In casual text conversation with Aysena...
Me: “I love running at night.”
Her: “You r unusual as i said.”
Me: “I know. I just have a good relationship with the night.
it’s a good time to think and reflect.”
Her: “But my friend ‘the morning’ doesnt like me spending
time with the night, oh your gosh, teach me this awkward language!”
Me: “your ‘morning’ is jealous of my night’s pleasures and happiness.”
Her: “Your night is dangerous”
Me: “yes but its worth the risk.”
Her: “you cant believe the night and everything what happen
in th night”
Me: “maybe. but the daytime is the same.”
The hot humid day turns into a cool night. The deliveries die
down.
Off work.
Hot and Sour Soup with Broccoli and Rice.
Fortune cookie says, “You will always be surrounded by true
friends.”
I head over to Aysena on Shore Drive. The anticipation is
high to see each other considering it’s been about three days since. I walk
into the room to find her soundly asleep. I repeatedly kiss her on the cheek
and head until she awakens. Her eyes flutter open; she smiles. Embarrassed.
I smile adoringly, “Hiii.”
I brought over the last of our Strawberry Mochi Ice Cream.
We indulge. Then, lying around on the bottom bunk and learning more about her
origins, which isn’t so much Russian as it is Alaskan/Mongolian. Photos of her
grandfather, mother, and cousin.
...
Reminding her of the word she made up last time as I pretend
to snore...
She demands emphatically, “Don’t snoozering!”
I laugh at how silly this word sounds.
...
Outside in the driveway. It’s after one in the morning and
it’s very quiet. A car rushes by every now and then...but no people anywhere.
We spot the old lady, Adele, who hosts all the foreign students, peaking out
her bedroom window at us.
Me: “She sees us!”
Despite, we continue to hold and kiss one another.
Me: “Mm. I want to make love...right now.”
She’s receptive to the mating call. We feel revved up.
Leaned up against the bumper of my purple wagon, she’s willing to do it right
here, but I transfer us to the back seat. Steamy windows. She straddles my lap.
At any moment someone could just walk by and catch us in the act but we don’t
care. It’s all a part of our bucket list to have sex in unconventional
locations. I admire her open mind for adventure. She happens to be on her
period and assures me that it’s okay to go inside her. Opening the doors in
desperate need for oxygen.
Me: “I can’t believe we just did that. We’re
exhibitionists.”
Her: “Its just sex. You can have with anyone.”
Me: “No. It’s not just sex. I mean it can be just sex. But
this is different. Between you and me...it’s special.”
I depart from this scene of ecstasy satisfied on the inside
and out.
Back home.
Peanut Butter Sandwich. Cleaning up the kitchen.
Sleep 3:30 a.m.
[i] All images
by me.
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