Posted on September 30, 2014 by Patricia Ann McNair9.30.2014 Journal Prompt Image from The Passenger September 30, 2014: She felt like flying. Share this:ShareClick to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading... Related
One Reply to “9.30.2014 Journal Prompt”
She was full on, you know. Like everything was an experience and Jenny wanted it all. We was driving in the car one day and the top was down and she climbed in the back seat and threw her arms wide and she said like that it was as though she was flying. She said I should drive faster and she screamed when I did, trailing that scream behind us like a flag or a kite.
Jenny got to her feet, standing tall, and I was a little scared that she’d fall. She felt the wind in her hair and buffeting her body and her arms. She closed her eyes and said it was like sex. Like that moment when you is lifted up and you don’t never want it to stop and for the briefest time you is not yourself or anything ‘cept the feeling of coming.
She said she’d take a turn at the wheel and I could feel it too if I’d a mind to. I said it was ok. I said I’d take her word for it. She climbed back into the front seat and she was breathless and her face flushed and she kept swearing and saying what a rush it had been. Like a dream she has sometimes, she said, and she’s flying then and the air pressing against her body, pressing like a hundred hands pressing. And she’s naked in the dream and her body moves with the air and moves easy.
‘Describe what it’s like for you,’ she said. ‘When you come. Describe what it’s like.’
I shifted in my seat. I was hard and it was a little uncomfortable and I was trying to attend to the road. I shrugged and said I didn’t really think I could describe it.
She said I was to try.
I took a breath and held it in. Then I let it out again, letting it go from me slowly. I ran one hand through my hair and then put it back to the wheel.
I said I wasn’t so good with words as she was.
She reached over and grabbed my cock and squeezed hard.
‘Fucking try,’ she said.
I told her it was the best feeling and that it was like you weren’t really there and like all of you there at the same time – really there. Like concentrated. I said it was like winning at everything you’ve ever done and it was intense and brief and like angels was inside you.
I was getting all poetical and talking shit – angels for chissakes! And she was unzipping my pants and slipping her hand inside. She said I was just to keep my mind on the driving and that wasn’t easy with what she was doing. And she said I was to go on with what I was saying, describing the indescribable, and my words came out broken and full of breath.
‘Like the moment of sneezing or the middle of a sneeze, when you close your eyes and everything is channeled into a single breath and then it rushes out of you. Well, before it is done and before you open your eyes again, that’s what it’s like. ‘Cept a thousand times better.’
I sneezed in the car once. Doing fifty, and it was like not being there for a moment and then suddenly back again and not in the place you were before and I was on the wrong side of the road and my heart hammering so loud I could hear nothing else.
‘Fuck, Jen,’ I said.
And the thing is, when it happened and Jen was jerking me by turns slow and fast, well, it was like none of those things. Not like angels or winning or sneezing. It was like nothing else that could fit into words, not ever.
After, Jen said she understood. She said she liked the look on my face when I came and she said it was like I was lit up from the insides and beautiful. She said I was talking shit with the angels stuff, but she thought it was the nearest thing to how it was, and she said she could see all that in the way I looked.