DurAnorak (duranorak) wrote,
DurAnorak
duranorak

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A short story about Rufus Wainwright, just for the hell of it.

The sun beat down almost hard enough to bruise, making him wish he'd listened to his mum and put on some sunblock or something. But it would be worth the worst of the Grecian heat if he could see the boy again. Finally, having climbed the last of the hills with his breath rasping and his eyes watering, he reached the comparative shade of the olive groves. He walked with a frown on his face, trying to remember the exact route he'd taken the day before. It seemed like pure chance that he ended up in the right place; the river was silent until you were practically on top of it. But he had found it.
There was no-one there.
He could hardly have expected there to be, he reasoned to himself. It had been the most strange and chance of chance meetings - he, rounding the corner and finding himself at a river, and the boy, startled, dropping the basket of olives he had been collecting. A cliché with a twist. The boy spoke about three words of English, Rufus no Greek, but after a minute or so they'd discovered words were a barrier they could do without. Breathless, looking at one another with a mixture of distrust, wonder and wanting, they had made love right there on the olive-strewn grass, sliding slickly against one another and finally rolling into the river beside them to clean up, all of which made him feel like something out of a Greek myth. One of the ones they didn't tell you in school.
"Tomorrow" was one of the few English words the boy had picked up. When Rufus had said it, tone inquiring-with-a-hint-of-beg, the boy had nodded. He'd taken it as a promise. He'd nodded back and the boy was suddenly gone, leaving the basket and the olives it still contained. Rufus had taken it back to the hotel and hidden it in his sister's half of the wardrobe, which he knew would remain unused throughout their stay.
"Kalimera," a soft voice said behind him. 'Good morning' - one of the two Greek words he knew. He turned around shakily.

---------------------

With thanks to Rufus Wainwright's song 'Grey Gardens'.

E.
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