Back to the Streets
back to the streets
It was darker than she remembered. There was new graffiti, too, something she’d anticipated but couldn’t imagine. Walking over to the grimy wall, listening to her shoes clack and her necklaces jingle, she examined the splattered array of colors and words, barely visible in the dim light. There was a patch of bright blue, a color even vibrant in the dark Jersey night, and a memory shot through her like a bullet. A smile fell across her face as she remembered, her fingers trailing along the dirt-encrusted surface of the wall.
---
"Gerard! Frank! Not now!" The hushed, angry whisper fell to deaf ears as the two black clad figures rushed ahead - young, carefree. Sighing, the whisperer ran to meet the others deeper in the alley, next to a black brown wall. As the whisperer caught her breath, the unmistakable sound of spray paint echoed down the alleyway, bouncing off garbage cans and sounding too loud in the heavy silence of the night. The larger of the two, with slightly greasy black hair shining in the moonlight, began to spray an intricate design, twisting the image in his mind in able to fit it on the wall, creating a masterpiece. A smaller figure was spraying yellow haphazardly farther down the alley, the contrast sharp to the larger man's bright blue.
The whisperer leaned against the wall of the alley, watching her artist create, falling in love with every crinkle of his forehead and every burst of creativity that came from his under stimulated, brilliant mind.
---
"Vi?" The figure whirled around, snapping out of her trance, letting her pale fingers come off the wall. She braced and tried to prepare herself.
Her artist was right in front of her, ten years later.
There was a lighted cigarette dangling from two long fingers. His hair was still slightly greasy, and his leather jacket looked beaten, tired. But his face. His angelic face was still the same, right down to the bags under his eyes.
"Gee. How… how are you?" She waited for a response, but Gerard instead let out a strangled cry and ran to her, hugging her fiercely. Staggering in shock and the weight of his body, she hugged back, inhaling his scent and fighting off the irresistible, electric urge to break the embrace and kiss the brilliant, greasy head she'd missed so much.
"I've missed you so bad."
He whispered it into her ear, and his breath tickled and her knees felt weak. He let go of his death grip on her and backed up a few paces, embarrassed. There were tears prickling the back of her green eyes and she could tell by the way he was swallowing constantly that he was fighting tears as well. There they stood, eye to eye, heart to heart, in a cold New Jersey alleyway.
She tried to remember why she had left in the first place.
---
"Gerard! Frank! Not now!" The hushed, angry whisper fell to deaf ears as the two black clad figures rushed ahead - young, carefree. Sighing, the whisperer ran to meet the others deeper in the alley, next to a black brown wall. As the whisperer caught her breath, the unmistakable sound of spray paint echoed down the alleyway, bouncing off garbage cans and sounding too loud in the heavy silence of the night. The larger of the two, with slightly greasy black hair shining in the moonlight, began to spray an intricate design, twisting the image in his mind in able to fit it on the wall, creating a masterpiece. A smaller figure was spraying yellow haphazardly farther down the alley, the contrast sharp to the larger man's bright blue.
The whisperer leaned against the wall of the alley, watching her artist create, falling in love with every crinkle of his forehead and every burst of creativity that came from his under stimulated, brilliant mind.
---
"Vi?" The figure whirled around, snapping out of her trance, letting her pale fingers come off the wall. She braced and tried to prepare herself.
Her artist was right in front of her, ten years later.
There was a lighted cigarette dangling from two long fingers. His hair was still slightly greasy, and his leather jacket looked beaten, tired. But his face. His angelic face was still the same, right down to the bags under his eyes.
"Gee. How… how are you?" She waited for a response, but Gerard instead let out a strangled cry and ran to her, hugging her fiercely. Staggering in shock and the weight of his body, she hugged back, inhaling his scent and fighting off the irresistible, electric urge to break the embrace and kiss the brilliant, greasy head she'd missed so much.
"I've missed you so bad."
He whispered it into her ear, and his breath tickled and her knees felt weak. He let go of his death grip on her and backed up a few paces, embarrassed. There were tears prickling the back of her green eyes and she could tell by the way he was swallowing constantly that he was fighting tears as well. There they stood, eye to eye, heart to heart, in a cold New Jersey alleyway.
She tried to remember why she had left in the first place.
♠ ♠ ♠
oldoldold.