Water jets in Franklin Square, Winter '09.
Theme Thursday today, and what a task I have! The theme is RHYTHM, so I set myself the goal this morning of penning a lightning fast drabble on today’s them on my way to work on the bus this morning. Alas, my trusty notebook was elsewhere! Thus, I fished out a receipt from the fresh fruit market in Salamanca [APPLES GRANNY SMITH SML KG], and set about squeezing out 100 words on the back.
I’m glad to say that I had the requisite number done and dusted by the time I hit the bridge and was able to dip back in to Dame Rebecca West’s interesting little tale The Return of the Soldier.
Let’s take the easy way out and call this one RHYTHM.
The rhythm of their relationship was a familiar one.
He worshipped her, she loathed him. He adored her, she was disgusted. He would whisper the sweetest, gentlest paeans of his affection into her lovely ear as they made love, and she would shun his offerings a cat might a command. When he arrived home, he kissed her. She gouged at his skin with her nails.
He would give, she would take. He loved her, and she hated him for it. He loved her, and he hated himself for it.
It was the rhythm of this connection that kept them together.
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