Two Boys
Once I saw two boys on the bus and they were obviously running away from something. They were full of the energy that only young boys can have. They almost smelt of growing.
I heard them talking, jumping over words, fleeing the day.
They were full of fight and defiance and hands tucked in pockets.
They were running away from all holds. Parents, school, brothers. Get off me, leave me alone. Get off my books. Get off my things.
Bouncing with the joy of it. They made faces at each other, out of the window. Laughed at trees, old ladies, poodles. They were fighting with the keep-it-under-control fizzy-pop of youth. And they were leaping, leaping up and down and sideways through the air of the bus, echoes of sounds of our past. Wishing we were there.
I reached for a flask of Scotch. It was in my pocket. I took a long gulp of fire. Ah, that feeling once more. Almost back there, back there with that energy. I was that boy once.
I heard them talking, jumping over words, fleeing the day.
They were full of fight and defiance and hands tucked in pockets.
They were running away from all holds. Parents, school, brothers. Get off me, leave me alone. Get off my books. Get off my things.
Bouncing with the joy of it. They made faces at each other, out of the window. Laughed at trees, old ladies, poodles. They were fighting with the keep-it-under-control fizzy-pop of youth. And they were leaping, leaping up and down and sideways through the air of the bus, echoes of sounds of our past. Wishing we were there.
I reached for a flask of Scotch. It was in my pocket. I took a long gulp of fire. Ah, that feeling once more. Almost back there, back there with that energy. I was that boy once.
posted by Molly Bloom at 3:17 AM
9 Comments:
i'd have to reach for the lego, or after age 14, the spliff...
that must have been the ghosts of me 'n paul circa 63/64.
"cut myself and see my blood, i wanna come home all covered in mud".
chasing dreams from upminster to hornchurch. grazing our knees and spinning wheels in the park. girls were something of a mystery but nice. they smelt nice. they gave life to your underpants.
the buses were red and for two old pennys you could ride forever with your snotty noses pressed hard against the glass making sounds like spastic daleks at 'old' people. they must have been at least 38 or maybe 70 but REAL old.
yep, that must be the ghosts of me 'n paul or maybe the ghosts of my kids jamie 'n thumbscrew as they made their ways home.
kids huh?
pains in the arse!
x
Inc - You naughty thing. Someone might take it off you and throw it down the drain! Lego is cool. I have clip-on hair.
That was a lovely comment. I love the youth of boys. They are full of energy, and like you say, 'grazing knees and spinning wheels in the park.'
CJ - sorry, the last part of that last comment was meant for you. 'Me 'n Paul' are you John L then? Cor, that's cool.
Maybe they were just running away from you?
Tony - hey, thanks. Well...the narrator is a man and not me...but they could have been running away from that person, yes.
Am I an easy pop or something?
*Sigh*
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
Sometimes I just get so fed up with life.
3rd unprovoked pop of the week. At least it's Sunday.
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