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Heaven in the afternoon

  Tue 29th November 2011

Rain hurls itself against the windows. Inside, tealights are twinkling in their purple and rose glass containers. Kim is stretched out on the sofa opposite with a blanket over her. She's knitting and reading the Guardian. A companiable silence, the white lines of last night still in us; almost enough to gloss my eyes at our shared stillness. We're working our way gently through a bottle of dry sherry. If certain things were altered, things which can't be altered, she'd make a loveable girlfriend. Sex-talking and delighted oh crikey chemicals through rolled-up railway tickets by night; sherry and the clock tick-like needle-clack of knitting by day.

Lew Kirton - Heaven In The Afternoon

11 comments

Comment from: Scarlet [Visitor]

There is really no excuse for this intolerable behaviour… Dry Sherry???? Where is the glamour? This is the slippery slope to a port and lemon, a cold sausage roll and a bag of crochet.
Sx

Tue 29th November 2011 @ 09:08
Comment from: [Member]

Dry Manzanilla sherry (M&S, 7.99) is a drink of the utmost refinement. Unfortunately, now that I pick up the bottle to refill my glass, I notice that it jerks up with emptiness, and I am half-cursing, half-grateful to you Ms Blue, for putting the thought in my head that a quick nip back to M&S to buy some port might be a befitting way to continue the afternoon.

Tue 29th November 2011 @ 09:22
Comment from: nursemyra [Visitor]

Sherry hangovers are EVIL

Tue 29th November 2011 @ 13:46
Comment from: [Member]

I’ll take your word for it, although I am mercifully generally exempt from hangovers. Following Scarlet’s subtle but powerful suggestion, I did venture out and get some port in the end and we drank that too, so perhaps I’ll find out in a few hours.

Tue 29th November 2011 @ 19:46

Ah, the delights of sherry and knitting. I hope the lovely Kim is knitting you a cardigan, suitable for one of your rapidly advancing years, and habits.

Just a minute. Railway tickets? What happened to the rolled up Tenners?

Wed 30th November 2011 @ 00:33
Comment from: isabelle [Visitor]

Impeccable musical and intoxicant taste.

(I wish I could knit.)

Wed 30th November 2011 @ 02:13
Comment from: [Member]

TSB: It’s Lancashire lad. We’re not made of money!

Isabelle: Thank you. I at least like knowing someone who knits. The sound, and watching her, is very drowsily domestically relaxing.

Wed 30th November 2011 @ 03:41
Comment from: Memphis Steve [Visitor]

You know, I’ve noticed that a lot of people in the UK drink polite sounding things like sherry, while we here in the US drink a lot of Jack Daniels whiskey straight out of bottles with black labels that elicit thoughts of Harleys and biker gangs. I don’t actually know why this is, though.

Wed 30th November 2011 @ 22:04

“You know, I’ve noticed that a lot of people in the UK drink polite sounding things like sherry, while we here in the US drink a lot of Jack Daniels whiskey straight out of bottles with black labels that elicit thoughts of Harleys and biker gangs. I don’t actually know why this is, though. “

It’s because most citizens/denizens of the USA are uncivilised boors.

No offence.

Wed 30th November 2011 @ 23:26
Comment from: [Member]

Hello Memphis Steve and nice to see you here! Don’t mind TSB. Just keep talking nicely and you’ll soon discover that underneath that roughty-toughty exterior, he’s got a heart made of pure… flint.

We have some drinking cultures here that are as bad as the ones you mention, which involve a lot of screaming women in tiny skirts being fought over by men on the same intellectual and sartorial level.

Right,you must all excuse me now as I’m off to the dentist’s now to see what having a filling feels like after being off my head all night on The Drug With the Unfeasibly Long Name, and therefore, a) attempting not to stink the entire surgery out with my copious drug-induced sweating; b) trying to stop myself from talking the receptionist’s head off with the almost uncontrollable urge it gives me to talk, and c) hoping that my hollow blackened eyes and odd manner won’t give rise to any suspicions about my “tastes".

Thu 1st December 2011 @ 01:32
Comment from: Jonathan [Visitor]

‘the clock tick-like needle-clack of knitting by day’. I love that. Actually the whole post reads like a prose version of a Morrissey lyric, and I mean from when that was a byword for Northern Genius.

Fri 2nd December 2011 @ 16:37


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