Pourquoi pas?

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Archive for the category “fiction and poetry”

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 48

Que no has conocido a nadie que te bese como yo, que no hay otro hombre en tu vida, que de ti se beneficie… depende.* — Depende, Jarabe de Palo

“Should we head home?”
“Why?”
“Why?? Because we’re soaking wet and the wind is blowing and we might get sick otherwise.”
“Ah. Good point. Can I get just one more kiss?”
“You can get a thousand more once we’re home.”

But he gave her another kiss right there and then anyway.

That you have not known anyone who would kiss you like I did, that there is no other man in your life who is rich from being with you… it depends.

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Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 47

J’avoue j’en ai bave pas vous, mon amour, avant d’avoir eu vent de vous, mon amour. Ne vous deplaise, en dansant la Javanaise, nous nous aimions le temps d’une chanson.* — La Javanaise, Serge Gainsbourg

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music,” the quote by Nietzsche came to Aimee’s mind as she saw the facial expression of most people who were rushing down the street, trying to get wherever they were heading quickly as the rain poured and the wind blew. They were dancing, she and Thomas, to the same music, despite the fact that the only sound to be heard was the pouring rain. He smiled at her, twirled her, and caught her in his embrace. They kissed, the rain disappeared, the wind disappeared, the people disappeared. They kissed some more.

*I admit I went through hell, didn’t you my love? Before I met you, my love. Whether it pleases your or not, while dancing the Javanaise,
we loved each other for the length of a song.

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 46

Slow down, you crazy child, and take the phone off the hook and disappear for awhile. It’s all right, you can afford to lose a day or two. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you? — Vienna, Billy Joel

“OH!”
“What? What happened? Are you okay?”
“I just realized I forgot my phone…”
“So? Is there something important you’re waiting for?”
“Well…”
“What could possibly be more important than spending time with me?”
“Do you really want me to answer that question?”
“Of course not. Nothing is more important than that.”

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 45

I once loved a woman, a child I’m told. I give her my heart but she wanted my soul, but don’t think twice, it’s all right. — Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright, Bob Dylan

Dave stared at his phone again, reading the message from Aimee for the tenth or so time this morning. He hits the reply button and starts typing.

“I love you, Aimee…”

Clear text.

He wonders what Aimee is doing right now.

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 44

Clear liquor and cloudy-eyed, too early to say goodnight… You have stolen my heart. — Stolen, Dashboard Confessional

They stood under the awning in front of the apartment, rain pouring down so hard it was almost impossible to hear each other.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Thomas asked.
“Are you?” Aimee asked back with a smile.

Thomas smiled at Aimee and leaned forward to kiss her. He then held her waist and with a gentle, quick movement, he moved her so that they were kissing in the rain.

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 43

The thunder makes her contemplate, she hears a noise behind the gate, perhaps a letter with a dove, perhaps a stranger she could love. — Her Morning Elegance, Oren Lavie

“Is it raining?”
“Yeah… pretty heavily, actually… it’s almost like a thunderstorm.”
“I guess that means we’re staying in today?”
“Or we could go out and dance in the rain.”
“You know… I always wanted to be kissing in the rain, it just seems so romantic.”
“Shall we?”

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 42

Je t’aime en effet, tu l’as compris je crois. Je t’aime pour de vrai*. — Maman, Christophe Maé

“Mmm… Aimee…” Thomas mumbled as he shifted closer and put his arm around Aimee’s waist.
“Hmm?” said Aimee, putting away her phone before she turned so she was facing Thomas.
He squinted at Aimee and asked her what she was doing.
“Just replying to a message,” she said, kissing his cheek.
“From whom?”
“Dave, a friend in Geneva.”
“Ah. Geneva. You’re leaving tomorrow morning.” Thomas kissed her forehead.
“Is that absolutely necessary?” he asked a few moments later.
Aimee raised her eyebrow at him then kissed the tip of his nose. No words were needed after that, both knew exactly how the other was feeling, both knew exactly what they were feeling.

*The fact is I love you, I believe you’ve understood that. I really do love you.

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 41

I was trying to find me something but I wasn’t sure just what. — Oh My Sweet Carolina, Ryan Adams

From: Dave Ritter (dave.ritter@gmx.ch)
To: Aimee Gibas (aimeegibas@gmail.com)
Subject: Guten Morgen!
Date: Thursday, 19 April 2012, 06:30

You’ll be back tomorrow!! YAY!

What’s the plan for today? Don’t stay up too late. You have an early flight, don’t you? To Zürich? Will you go straight back to Geneva or spend some time there? Let me know!

Miss you,

Dave

———————————————–

From: Aimee Gibas (aimeegibas@gmail.com)
To: Dave Ritter (dave.ritter@gmx.ch)
Subject: Re: Guten Morgen!
Date: Thursday, 19 April 2012, 06:45

Yep, will be back tomorrow. A bit sad actually, I really like it here.

Yes, early flight, should be in Zürich by 08:00 or something. Might go straight to Geneva from there, or walk around a bit before… but I’ll text you when I’m close.

As for today, no plans yet. You know how I am. I don’t plan. Things just happen.

Miss you too,

Aimee

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 40

You and I got something but it’s all and then it’s nothing to me, and I got my defenses when it comes through your intentions for me… And I want to get free, talk to me. I can feel you falling and I wanted to be all you need. — Here is Gone, Goo Goo Dolls

“You’re such a great kisser, you know that?”
“Well, I never kissed myself so I don’t really know, but you’re not the first person to tell me that.”
“Ah, of course not.”
“Jamie used to tell me that all the time.”
“Jamie?”
“My ex-boyfriend.”
“Of course. Hmm… I don’t think Zara ever commented on my kissing…”
“Well, I think you’re not bad.”
“Not bad, huh?”
“We could work on it.”
“In a day?”
“You’ll be surprised at what you can accomplish in a day.”
“I guess we should stop talking and get practicing then.”

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 39

Alors c’est grave, ca se bouscule dans ma tête dopé à l’effet de plaire. C’est pas vraiment la fête pourtant j’ai l’air de lui plaire. Qu’ai-je fait au bon dieu pour être fidèle à cet aveu?* — Belle Demoiselle, Christophe Maé

“Does it really matter, Aimee?”
“I… don’t know… It’s just…”
“Look, as long as we’re happy…”
“Are you happy?”
“I am. Well, I was.”
“Well, so was I.”
“Do you think we can be happy again?”
“Yes. Let’s be happy for now.”
“For now.”

*So it’s serious, it bounces around in my head and drugs me to happiness. It’s not really a party but she seems to like me. What have I done to the Good Lord to be allowed to think this?

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