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Shorts
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| This is the Plan | |
| By zmbbw | ||||||||||
| 21 December 2007 | ||||||||||
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It's good to have a plan. We’ll wake to the crack of lightening and the slap of rain on the window and make sleepy love – unsure in the morning whether it really did happen. We’ll breakfast amid crumbs and jars and buttered knives and then dress to Pet Sounds; God only knows what I’d be without you. We’ll sing our lungs out in the car and at John Lennon Airport we’ll laugh at Sheila’s Bric-a-brac being where Gucci should be. At Ciampino we’ll lean into each other watching the cases going around the carousel and the taxi drivers will feign fights over who should win your fare. They’ll shake my hand and slap me on the back. We’ll check into the hotel, jump up and down on the bed and then fall into a welcome snooze. You’ll wear shades and look like Anne Bancroft in The Miracle Worker. I’ll wear shades and wonder what I did to deserve you. We’ll have lunch in a backstreet with communist graffiti on the walls. Viewing our new apartment and roof-top garden you’ll pretend you’re Helen Mirren in The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone. We’ll drink wine and watch office workers with wafer thin attaché cases walking along the Via Ripetta. We’ll fall exhausted onto the bed and later we’ll wake and undress. We’ll have an early breakfast at the flower market and catch a taxi to Leonardo da Vinci Airport. We’ll watch movies with English subtitles and I’ll look out of the window to hide my tears. We’ll compile our top-five favourite buildings as the taxi passes the Petronas Towers and we’ll check into a suite at the Concorde and laugh at the size of the shower room. We’ll make love and fall into a snooze. We’ll eat runny fish curry in Chinatown and drink Chinese beer until the street vendors and the stench of gutters drive us away. We’ll drink beer in the Hard Rock Café listening to White Room and My Brother Jake and we’ll watch television in bed; Porridge in Chinese probably. We’ll fly to Sabah and check into a beach hut. We’ll laugh at the outdoor shower and throw open the shutters onto the South China Sea. We’ll sit and drink tea and make another plan.
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