Early morning wings (I)

She raised her hands to the sky, her wings glinting in the early morning sun. The ink was new, but already so much a part of her. She wished they could really make her fly. But earthbound as ever, she crosses her legs quickly and tapped her fingers on the small table in front of her, balancing precariously on the solid ground.

Coffee always takes too long first thing in the morning. There were swarms of people, all trying to find a table and bickering about whether soy or skinny milk was ‘in’ and if decaff was worth the extra cost. Rubbing her temples, she tried to block their senseless babble. They would bump her table from time to time, she looked away, pretending it was like it always was… before.

Finally the waiter came with her coffee. Smiling he winked at her leaving her cheeks stained with a ruby red blush and her fingers dancing across her page, writing down each succulent detail of his sensuous movements. Once her fingers has finished their impulsive dance, they curled around the mug the waiter had brought her, bringing it to her lips where she sipped full fat, non-decaff, dairy milk relief.

When she first found her way to this out of the way, dark, musty café with milk creates for chairs; she had been captivated by its bohemian feel, and by the coffee. It was rare to see more than a few people there, but then suddenly one day, people had found it. It had never been the same.

She watched the waiter out the corner of her eye, he wandered around for a while, making coffee, serving people their coffee; each movement was like a sin to watch, gracefully defined and masculine. With one last bow, he placed a coffee in front of a middle-aged woman who tried pitifully to flirt with him. Smiling at her, he walked off to a dark corner in the café, reaching his graceful hand into it. He retrieved an acoustic guitar, recently strung from the look of the glittering strings; begging for his touch. A small nod in the direction of the owner was given, like a child asking for permission. An equally small nod was the reply, giving the waiters face the look of a child on Christmas.

Brushing back his dark curls, he made his way onto the small stage to the back of the café. Slowly he began to let his fingers roam across the strings, coaxing heavenly sounds from them each time he did. Biting his lip gently he lent forward, the sleeve of his work shirt lifting a little, revealing a captivating clue to what ink covered his divine body. His voice filled the little café, although she couldn’t be sure, she felt as if each word was directed at her.

The whole time he was playing she sat. Sometimes she would order another coffee or write something in her notebook, but her eyes always found his. Time after time she found herself gazing at him, entranced. Finally his fingers found the last note and it rang out through the café. Looking around, she realised that there were only a few people still about. Standing up, she tried to debate whether or not to leave.

“Excuse me miss.” A low, seductive voice called. She looked up in wonder. Her eyes found his. “I couldn’t help but see you watching me, you seemed to be my only audience.” He grinned sheepishly. “You play beautifully.” She simply replied.

He walked over to her, guitar in hand. “Thank you.” His voice dropped slightly, getting deeper, more melodic and seductive. “Perhaps I could play for you another time?” he lifted up his head and looked straight into her eyes, “my broken beauty.”

Early morning wings (I)

Emraldae

Melbourne, Australia

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Artist's Description

part one of a possible two or three part piece. I rather like these two. they have names now.
I let a friend of mine read this so she could tell me what she thought about the next part… she ended up shushing me and then pushing the computer back at me, demanding I write more. because of this, if nothing else, these two are going to be around for a while.

Part two

i was lucky enough to have the man i based Storm off write this from Storms point of view

and i’ve also written a part three to this and a part four

Artwork Comments

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