Fragment #33 - Sweet Morning

The walls are sweating. I shiver. I am back in the labyrinth. But this time, I can feel the woollen thread between my fingers. And no roaring comes from the centre. The monster has been killed. Jailed for infinity of times. Following the thread, I end up in the heart of the maze. A pool of clear water awaits in the centre. Water lilies are floating by on the still water. I come closer to the pool, stare at myself in the mirroring liquid. Over my head, the constellations are awaiting. I have changed. I don’t recognise the grey fur on my face, the fangs between my lips. And Julian is not here anymore. I am all alone.
Someone brushes by my furry skin. I shiver. Jonathan is next to me. He’s smiling. “Do not fear,” he whispers. “I am here.” He kisses my drooling snout, and we lie down together, watching the constellations up in the sky from the roofless atrium of the Maze.

I wake up. Jon is gently snoring next to me, smiling. I watch him sleep. He seems so quiet. I slip out of bed, after having given him a gentle kiss. He breathes out heavily and turns around. I pull on my bunderpants; I stare out to see the nice Saturday weather, and leave the room, slowly shutting the door behind me.
The tiles of the kitchen floor are cold under my feet. I tiptoe to the shelf, shove two slices of bread into the toaster, and wait. James walks in.
“Morning”
“Morning, James. How are you?”
“Good, thanks. You?”
“Still a bit sleepy, but fine. Ta.”
I tell him Jon is still in bed. Going out on Friday nights doesn’t really suit him.
James smiles.
“You are much more of a party Queen, aren’t you?”
“Well, it depends. I just like to feel the rhythm pounding deep inside me, you know…”
“Yep, amongst other things.” He says cattily.
“That was not really funny,” I slam back.
The toaster ejects my toasts directly into my hands.
“Nice catch!”
I look at the street through the window glass. People are silently going by. A fat black woman goes by, her hands laden down with bags from Sainsbury’s. I smile. Further down the street I can see the traffic jam of Borough high street.
I put butter onto my piece of toast and start eating it. James is slowly drinking his tea. I can feel it is boiling hot from where I stand. But James gulps it down anyway. I don’t know how those Englishmen do that, but it always surprises me.
James sees my eyes wide open in amazement and laughs at me in his sweet girlish way. I smile back.
How do I love these early morning wordless conversations!