When time stopped

The sun strained through a gritty sieve of curtaining. A giant snail curled in on itself. Lying and reading until my back ached and my eyes fuzzed. "Oslo in the summertime" blaring down the wires of a shared set of earphones. Reading "Waiting for Godot" together in the stuffy confines of a room disused and lovingly abused. The burning ash reaching for the stars before raining anonymously on our heads. The Hurtlocker. Dharma & Greg. Anne running around without her nappy on. Talking , our words building cities of colourful lights in the quiet darkness of early morning. The watery sky and the sobbing sea whose cold fingers grabbed our ankles. The floatsam of glass lining the shore. Claire peering at me through her glass, it made me think of coke bottle glasses. Salty skin that stuck to fabric. Hiccoughs. Ciabata in abundance. Learning small fragments about Photoshop. Sleeping too much. The cafe that smelt of things long decayed. The warm damp air. Running away from a brommer, because we're just silly girls. Claire driving into two bushes. Birds dancing and singing in the tree outside our bedroom window. Algoa FM. Hearing Baker Street and that Gerry Rafferty had died of liver failure. "I know where it is, I just need to find it."  Dunes that were contrasted and emphasized by a purple sky.  Fishermen fading away in the salty mist of the beach. Green. The Gamtoos River, which was too cold to swim in, but we did anyway. Claire accusing me of getting us lost. Insisting that we were right there and, therefore, not lost. Janet and I giving Claire a hard time because we could. Psalms. L'eau l'eau, whose heart was so cold, the only way to melt her was in losing her to drink. SHROOMS! Listening to Maria Callas while driving through sea mist.