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squirmelia

Skyberries and Voidmelons or Voidberries and Skymelons


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dreaming
squirmelia

Friday 13th

The moon was red that night, Friday the 13th of February, and later it turned orange. She had waited for hours that evening, bored, waiting for him to fly, waiting for him to call.

She jumped aboard a tram when he did, first one to the State Library, where she met him, and then another, to St Kilda. That night, at the Greyhound, bands were playing a tribute to Lux Interior, from the Cramps, who had died the week before.

The bands finished playing, and in the back of a taxi, stuck in a traffic jam, she stared at lit up trees outside, but mostly, mostly she stared into his eyes.

When they reached his apartment, she told him to look in his mailbox, and he left for a while, and found the card with severed eyes there, which she had posted a few days before, and she told him it was not really from her, but he gave her a severed flower then anyway.

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