lunchtime
I saw the way you looked this morning as you left the house. And I don’t know the circumstances of your going, or having to go. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to see you. But the way you looked… I take a chance.
I wear sunglasses.
That will throw any watchers off the scent.
Are you as aware of me as I am of you? You’re my downhill. I know you like me, but perhaps to you it feels that all souls are tugged in your direction?
Regardless, you look up spontaneously and see me through the windows. Your expression doesn’t change but I can’t help but smile. I’m wearing gym clothes and carrying a heavy-looking duffel bag. You return to what you were doing. It’s okay. I’ll wait.
There’s a bus stop. I’m checking my phone and pretending to scan the arrival times every now and then, doing a passable job of always waiting for the bus after this one. I naturally look up when you approach. A scowl fights a flush of pleasure for dominance on your face.
I stand and bump my shoulder into yours in an affectionate jostle. Our heads incline a little towards one another like we’re sharing a secret. You take the sunglasses off my face and pop them in one of your pockets.
“You’re going to get me in trouble.” You don’t seem entirely put out. Your eye is on the bag, your lips parted. The bag has a heartbeat.
“You forgot lunch. Ten minutes?”
I walk us toward a forgotten triangle of land. Nineteen old brick buildings form a haphazard cordon ringed by pipework and one fire escape. The few windows are high up or blind.
Butterfly bushes have taken root in the unlikely courtyard. Purple sprays of flowers alleviate the brick and concrete mesh. It’s tidy. That’s suspicious.
“Did you sweep up?”
“Yeah,” I say casually, setting down my bag and unzipping. “Sorry it’s not somewhere more cozy. I’ll maybe bring some chairs tomorrow. If you can slip away again.”
“You can’t—”
The food isn’t important. She’s small, blinking slowly as though very confused, and more of that edible leather-based rope I invented prevents her from extending arms and legs. Old enough to be food. A perfect little capsule of flesh that will tuck away nicely behind your fat.
Your stomach growls ferociously. The excitement in your tummy mingles with fear. “Can’t do this again. You’ll get me in trouble.”
I don’t answer; just watch the sharp look on your face. I have my “you’re beautiful” expression on again.
“She’s ready for you.”
You stand there, losing an internal fight, and then kneel down. I lift her to your lips and you open wide. She’s small but the stretch is still glorious, a hot line of golden joy from lips to cheeks to throat; creaking open your collarbones as her young form slips smoothly down. She barely struggles. It’s like she was made to fit inside you.
She does. You feel her slide home. Your stomach walls close in like an old friend, gently expelling air you release in a long, whisper-quiet burp.
We stay there a little while: you kneeling, cradling your tummy; me beside you, one arm around your back, one hand on the crown of your stomach. We feel it begin to kick just a little, growing in intensity, and then at length it goes still. You cover your mouth with your fist and release another belch, short and soft. You get a cuddle and a kiss to the side of your head.
“I have to go back.”
Another kiss, and then to your lips, then we stand. You heft your gut, feeling your lunch’s mass deep within you, compressing everything down like a warm internal hug. The faint buzz of digestion head-rush makes the world feel pink and happy.
You seem to have distracted yourself so I pat your bottom and guide you out of the courtyard with a hand at your back. Before we step into the street you kiss me.
“You stay here. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Enjoy your insight role.”
You give me a wry smile, then your eyes crease up with some internal pressure. You shift your hips and ripple out a guilty ~phrrrrt~. “And with that—”
I gather you up in one final hug, kissing you hard on the lips. You melt against me but it’s me who must conform to your shape, the new bulge palpable behind the crest of your belly.
Then I release you and you’re gone. I wait in the narrow alley, watching cars and buses and people go by. Life continues and you must for a while submerge yourself in it. But it’s not all day. You have space to recover, worlds to explore, and I’ll be there when you need me.
I ponder on my dream of the other day. It would surely be crazy to try to bring that about…
I pat down my pockets and then bristle indignantly. You nicked my sunglasses!