|
Written by Lori Zakariyya King
|
|
Monday, 06 February 2012 00:00 |
| The man opened his eyes to the peering daylight. Typically, the sun was trapped behind the vast streaks of clouds.
The man treated himself to a sigh and then sunk back asleep. Minutes later the doorbell rang. When that went unanswered knuckles bumped his front door. The man rose to his feet and with one eyelid refusing to unstick he peeled back the fat wood. Behind the door stood an uncertain woman with chocolate eyes.
Gently he tugged her by the wrist until she was waiting outside the bathroom. The man scoured his teeth clean and snatched something from the cabinet. Then he went to her.
|
“Did you have it too?”
“Have what?”
“Err… don’t you…?”
“Say again.”
“Did you dream of me?”
“No. Did you?”
“No… yeah.”
“Oh. That’s irony or something, I guess.”
“Mm. What’s happening then? Why are you here?”
“I… don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Then I don’t know either.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Nope. It wouldn’t be yours anyway.”
“Really?”
“Really what?”
“Did we not sleep together?”
“No.”
“I thought we did. Must’ve dreamt it.”
“Sounds like you’ve seen a lot of me since I last saw you.”
“Mm. A lot. This is probably gonna finish when my alarm goes off in
a few minutes too.”
“Should I close the curtains?”
“Uh-huh." |
~ Coke Diet
~ Lori ‘Zakariyya’ King is a 28-year-old performance poet (under the pseudonym 'zkthepoet'), based in the Isle of Dogs, London.
His subject matter centres around the nostalgia of youth, the torturous allure of the feminine form and comical takes on life as an unorthodox madcap Muslim with wig-wearing tendencies. |
|
Last Updated on Sunday, 18 March 2012 10:17 |
