I had a dream today about my friend Maria “la loca”, we were out partying like we used to do when I lived in Spain. And just today, after I woke up, she sent me a message when I hadn’t heard from her for a long time.
David Bowie’s birthday is coming up.
As many others, I fell in love with Bowie and his music a long time ago.
He doesn’t like David Bowie, as far as I know, as I have shared many times how I feel about Bowie and his music, and he has expressed zero interest.
Nonetheless he is interested in a commemorative Birthday Bash for Bowie? And . . . he shared it with the entire world.
We were both at a friends house, she was having a party, like she sometimes do. I think it was a Halloween party since I was dressed like Velma from the Scooby Doo cartoon. He asked me to go for a walk with him and I said yes.
We stepped out into the night, we were in the middle of a prairie – a small prairie in the middle of the city. The grass smelled, it had just stopped raining and the night was dark except for the starts above. He was smiling and talking to me then he asked me to lay down on the grass.
As I lay down I could feel the dampness on my back, but I could hear nothing except his voice. The silence was absolute except for him. No brittle grass blades crunching under my weight, no night insects, no city hum . . . Only him.
I lay on my back, on the grass and he on top of me with our arms around each other. We kissed. Strangely as it may sound I remember mostly our tongues, his tongue running over my lips. And then he kissed my neck and I looked up at the stars, millions of them in against the darkest of night skies.
What are you looking at?
Up at the stars.
We didn’t have much time, he said, if we waited any longer it would be too late. We had to do it all in secret, he said as he unbuttoned my blouse.
Very amusing I thought, since everyone had seen us going out together into the night, holding hands and well, we were not back yet.
There are three houses in a clearance in a forest. A forest that looks like the one they show on movies, movies that take place in the American South. I’m not sure if the American South actually looks like that. The air is thick, buzzing with the sounds of insects and the three houses are . . . in disrepair. There are one room houses, with wooden walls and wooden floors. They seem out of place, out of time, an anachronism.
I am going to a party, I have a coral dress, long, ethereal even, so unlike me. I never wear dresses. I never wear coral. I take out my phone before I leave, but know he won’t come. I know this but I still text him. Then I go to the party. It’ll be only me.
I walk through the crowd, I see familiar faces from my teenage years, old friends their faces unchanged . . . Have I changed? It’s dark, I seem to be at a party. Is that music? I hear the sounds of the crowd, undiscernible words. It’s a New Year’s Eve Party, I’m sure. What am I doing here? Why are you here?
Yes, it’s you. I see you approaching me and smiling, you take my hand and . . . we dance?
I can’t see what you wearing. I don’t even know why I’m thinking of your clothing, but isn’t it strange? I can see your face, I’m looking into your face and . . . I know you’re here I can feel your body next to mine, your hands, yes. But I can’t see you.