Sunday 7 June 2020

'The rush of it all' by Audrey Niven

 

‘Follow me,’ she said as she brushed past me without stopping.

Looking ahead in the crowds I couldn’t tell which way she would go.

And I wasn’t sure why, but I wanted to do what she asked, and my feet just took me.

She turned left, down a lane and through an archway and along one echoing side of a paved courtyard that gave out onto a wide green parkland on the other side.

Her heels click clacked, click clack, click clack, and my feet followed, dumb, in their plimsolls, behind.

Far ahead now, she was running, her high heels in her hand, hair bouncing in the wind, her skirt blowing up, showing her tanned legs. 

I raced after her, all thought of college gone from my head, not even caring where we were going or how far I was from the start of my day.

Catching up just before the line of trees, I reached out and grasped at her wrist.

The skin was so thin I could see the veins there swimming with the life of her.

I wanted to kiss her.

‘Oh,’ she said, like she was surprised to see me there.

‘No-one has ever been brave enough before.’


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