zombie girl

Saved by the buoyancy of citrus!

rated PG-13 for mature theme, some images of violence, and a bawdy puppet show

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zombie girl
(i know i pretty much wrote about this already but i was thinking about it earlier and kind of wrote a more detailed, better-written-than-usual-journal-writing (i think) account...)

"It's too bad you don't dance," he says as he backs onto the dance floor. Mentally, I fill in the rest of the sentence: "because I'm going to dance with or without you." I shrug my shoulders. I am not sure which is worse--embarrassing myself by stumbling rhythmically like a drunken hobo or watching as he dances with somebody else. I keep an eye on him, the drink he bought me in my hand, as I sidle up next to Kelsey and make small talk. "I think this drink is probably actually really disgusting!" I yell in her ear. "But I'm so drunk at this point, it tastes FINE!" I shove the glass in her face. "Try it!" She backs away. "I'm trying to sober up," she answers. "But thanks, I believe you." Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Kevin talking to the girl he had introduced me to earlier. I am not jealous exactly. Well, I am, kind of. The green-eyed monster is waiting in the wings, ready to jump out if their chatting becomes dancing. However, a couple minutes later, he excuses himself from her company and we pair up again. Last call has come and gone, and the dance floor is for the most part cleared off, except for the few drunken stragglers, determined to milk every last second out of the evening.

Then, as I finish up that fourth drink of the night, I hit that point where gyration seems acceptable. Before I know exactly what is happening, he and I are dancing. Mind you, there are not enough drinks in the world to make me start shaking my ass around like a cat in heat while some guy rubs his erection on me. And given how intoxicated I am, it's likely that my attempt at dancing borders on pathetic. But I feel a surge of sexual energy as I push up against his chest and we move in concert to the music. I put my hand between his suit jacket and the button-up shirt underneath and feel the warmth of his body. It reminds me of the kind of intimacy I used to feel when I hugged Evan beneath his tan coat. "See...you dance," Kevin says. I shrug, put my arms up high, up on his shoulders, glass still in my left hand, and look at his face. This moment is one of those that freezes in your memory as something of ephemeral beauty. For this moment, we are stillness amid chaos, meaning amid meaninglessness. It was these kinds of moments, I think, that led me to my doom with Evan. They add up, paint a picture over time that can make one fall in love. So I know how dangerous these moments are. That doesn't stop me from enjoying this one, though.

The song ends, and we part.

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Poetic. Damn it, you need to author books!

oh, thanks! :):) i appreciate that.

This is a really beautiful entry, V.

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