On a day when it should be raining I awake to glorious sunshine and a bare, cool shady apartment. The place seems cleansed, as if things have been rearranged and made proper throughout the night. Jaws seems to be asleep, if not just lulling calmly, as lazy as the day. I think I am going away, drifting off through centuries of time...
I open my eyes and John kinda squints down smiling. I screw my face up embarrassed by my sleepy features and sink back into the bliss of his soft, warm stomach. He lays back and I stare at the hairs leading up to his chest. Sometimes they move, very slightly, as if someone is gently blowing on them. It is summer 2008, we are alone and spread out in the grass on Hampstead Heath. London stretches off forever in every direction. The world is more beautiful than it ever has the right to be.
“It's kinda just perfect here isn't it? With the insects and all, the grass and shade. In this moment, in this time, we have it all. There cannot be anything more than this.”
I felt John's eyes open. A kind of warm rush went through his body as the sun soaked into him. ”It's like we've crash landed on heaven” he droned, drunk on the sun “almost like the perfect accident.”
“Oh John, I could die! Just like this. Be found here with you. No mess, no blood, no massacre or pain. Just two people at the height of all beauty and art laying together. It makes me sad that soon the evening will sweep in, the light will fade and we'll have to pack up and go. It's like we've found this one perfect moment in time but cannot capture it... cannott preserve it. All we have to remember it by is our heat stroked memory.”
“Yeah, but we have it! Our eyes will always show that. It's like people who have been to war, have seen death and dying up close like that. It remains in the eyes like a veneer of horror. It can be like that for us. Our eyes can sort of reflect this moment forever. Shine with the secrets of this day.”
John lit a cigarette. I lay rising and falling to the rhythm of his body as he inhaled, held for a moment then slowly blew out. Perfect, fanned plumes of smoke right into the blue.
I closed my eyes and over sun-rendered black and red shapes the sounds of the day rung out. They seemed to come from a place far beyond just luck. It was as if there were other forces in play, like it was something bigger than life which had brought us here.
“John, I'm scared,” I said “I've never felt this before and it scares the shit outta me. It's like I could do anything for you... for us. I'm not sure that's a good thing... it may even be a bad thing.”
John's hand reached down and found mine. He gave a gentle couple of squeezes as if he was telling me it was fine, that he understood and it would be OK. But there was also something more, like I'd said the words he'd been laying there secretly waiting to hear. I rolled off and onto my elbow. The cool grass was stuck and milky on my arm. Blocking out the sun my shadow crept over John's face. He opened an eye as he sensed the change of light. “John” I said, now large and dark in his vision “one day I'm gonna kill you, then I'm gonna kill myself.” I waited for a moment then broke out into a smile. John didn't react, not a dicky bird. He just lay there in silence, splayed out under the sun, a squinted left eye looking my way