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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2097198-Tap-Juice
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Young Adult · #2097198
The start of something I'm working on. I'm not sure where I'm going with it yet.

The tap water slides down my throat, washing down the taste of you that’s quenched all basic need for anything that isn’t your cigarettes and cheap pilsner. It tastes like the river that runs past my house and reminds me of jumping from the bridge that we kissed under when you didn’t want anyone to know about us. The way you placed your hands on my head and kissed me hard against my mouth makes me think that what happened will be the last time. I want nothing more for it to never happen again. Since when has it become okay for someone just to waltz into your life and steal a precious thing like a kiss and own it as if it was yours in the first place. I have feelings, feelings that were never yours to understand. I have urges that aren’t yours to claim, nor will you ever get the chance again to take my face in your hands and kiss me as if you’re the one who comes to mind when I listen to songs that make me get pimples upon my skin and the films that make the tiny, fair hairs on my body stand to attention.

This world is a complicated one, and it is full of equally complex people that have no idea what they’re doing. We’re all just stones rolling along until we find our water and that water is vast, open space which doesn’t reduce us to a puddle or a pond. There is an ocean out there of possibility. I have an addictive personality, one that makes the notion of romance ever so inviting; on the other hand, entirely unappealing. I want you to lose sight of what else is out there because you’re so enamoured by the smell of my skin and the aftertaste of fizzy soda from my lips that numbs your own. Pull me in hard so I can push you away even harder.

Sunshine, BBQs and daytime drinking was fading into summers past and the leaves on the trees were turning into metal. Coppers and rusty browns were replacing the shamrock greens as the seasons changed and people were returning from their caravan holidays. Back to normality came those of us who wanted to hold onto the freedom that summer offered. I quit my job at the restaurant I was working due to the unsociable hours, what I found though was when I left it made me have less of a desire to see anyone regardless. I craved excitement and the town I live in I had grew tired of, there had to be something else bigger than this.



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