Gloomy Day

Filthy filthy  day, in fact ...

Woke early and remembered instantly every jab and parry of the night before.

We'd committed to meeting and the moment I entered her place I knew it was going to the mat, and so did she.

We weren't looking for a fight; we'd prepared for it and dispensed with formalities, sitting straight down with arms round each other and our eyes full of alarm at the horrors ahead.

The barricades we glared at each other over were the mountainous baggage we each brought to the reunion.

Our ammunition belts are loaded with the sharpest most accurate barbs we knew we had.

Who was afraid of Virginia Claus? Both of us.

Music, guitar, the old songs, glares, tears, frosty distance, melts, strokes, cigarette and the couch.

Disaster.

We are two ends of an elastic band: we want it we dont want it; when we're out we want in.