Wall of Sound

Pleasant, idle chatter. Drinks in hand
we speak of favourites, things new
things old, things unknown. We laugh
loudly, a joke about that one time,
that thing that happened. We drink.
Sipping from a cheap black straw,
the ice swirls in my glass, mixing
colours: green, purple. What is it?
It’s nice. Can I try? Sure. Polite
agreement. Unsure smile.
We talk of space and time and
travelling phone boxes, they
of lasers and little green men
and spikey haired boys
throwing fire they say
something raven you
say that thing noise
he says she says
loud they say
you laugh

I stand.
I apologise and wave,
polite, see you later, see you
next time. Nice to meet you,
stay longer next time. If I can.
I step away, disappointed.
Block the disapproval with the
thump thump thump of the bass
and drum of a rock song. Thump thump,
my heart slows to the beat of the music.
Alone, walking, away from the rest of them.



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