Hands

The streets were filled with preachers, they screamed out a joint prayer together. It was eerie, hearing them all cry out in synch, praising their Three as One above. We held hands that day, it was sunny, a few wisps of cloud had made their way across from the coast, casting faint shadows on the cobbles.

Your hand felt warm in mine, a comforting roughness that covered my heart with goosebumps. Bad metaphor, sounds like you were killing me, squeezing my heart flesh in a fist. No, your touch was… special, it drowned out the sounds of the ranting priests and distracted the gaze of the Father above (not the Son, they still kept eyes focused, a little hand holding can’t keep that gaze away. Three are One after all).

The cobbles cut into my soles. They left smears of blood as a trail leading to a bliss unending. The priests screamed on and on and on and on and –

We reached the rotunda wall of our hotel and we let ourselves through the main door. The clerk nods before handing us our keys. You thanked them and added a smile to soften the words further. We made our way to the café.

You headed out to sea the next day, hunting whale and fish and other such creatures. I played with your hair as the waiter came over and you ordered our last meal together. It’ll have to last, we both had a long journey before us, by land and by sea.

The waiter came back with a glass of water for us both. We swapped them with each sip. Your smile when you put down the glass was infectious; I couldn’t help but grab your cheeks and pull them even further apart.

The meal arrived, steak and kidney pie for us both. You ate yours in two bites; I took my time, savouring each bite as I stared into your face. I give you my love, dear, now that you’ve set sail. Life may bring us closer together again, just so I can see the face that bites a thousand pies again.

We headed to our room, hand in hand again. The lift was broken so you lifted me instead, up one flight of steps, before we swap, and I carried you the rest of the way. Fumbling for the keys in your pocket, we made our way inside, lights switching on automatically.

We fell into bed, and, with a click of your fingers, the lights went out.

I woke to the rising sun and you were gone, leaving behind nothing but an imprint on the bed, and a pamphlet with a smiley face on its cover. I thought of searching, I really did, but decided to read instead, picking up the leaflet and opening it to the first page.