Deiformity (Part 1)

That old chestnut, "What will be will be", that was what I believed in... if a girl came along and fell into my arms, that would be fine; if they didn't, then who gave a damn? There were always one night stands to be had with desperate women, if it was ever to come to that.

So, anyhow, where was I?

Yes, that was it. So after a year of madness (and lack of study) at University, I came home to the warm breeze and sparseness that I had grown up with. What I was left with, as I remember it, was an outwardly imposed feeling of calm. In the distance thundered on the nights of madness, but their echoing cries were growing softer and softer, further and further away.

I decided to get a holiday job. I didn't really know what - I wanted to get bar work of some sort, but I hadn't ever done it before. I walked around some of the more modernised areas of town, asking randomly in some real new style, recently re-designed places, but was turned away from all of them. Feeling disheartened, I walked into a more local-looking tavern, not particularly to ask about bar jobs but just to have a swift half and get annoyed about how hard it was to get work. This being despite the fact that I had only spend an afternoon looking. I was so much more easily dissuaded from things in those days. A few grumpy old dwarves sat at the bar, disinterested. Apart from that the place was empty.

Your face looks so weary now. Your eyes are half closed, but I can still see some of their soft brown. I pick you up and start to walk on down the stairs. I think to myself. Thoughts abound to me of strange nights, where I didn't really know where I stood anymore with anyone, where moral standpoints were the important ones to take, above physical gratification.

Or I suppose that's how I remember it. Odd stories surrounded me in my youth, as I lived my life in your shadow. But that is as nothing compared to what was to follow, later. Going back to that day when I met you, anyhow. If any date was to remain an essential point in my life, a milestone which would end up as a millstone hung heavy round my neck, then it would be that one.

I went into the tavern and sat down at the bar, taking in the dull, depressing atmosphere of stale lager, cheap tobacco, and asked the barman for a light elven beer. As the refreshing, honey-dew laden ale poured down my neck, I wondered if romance would occur to me that summer. As it turned out, it would walk through the door a lot sooner than I had presumed.

Do you want to sleep here awhile, at the foot of the stairs, and I will return to you later to carry on my story. My, you look so tired. These hours are sad ones, and I need a cigarette. See you later, my love. Look, here's a kiss.

I go to the garden and roll a cigarette.

I can't be bitter forever. You love me now. Let us enjoy these last days together, as the heaviness grows ever stronger around us. Outside in the garden, everything is dead, although it hasn't always been that way; it was a Shangri la of sorts at one time, before the invasion. I flick some ash onto the bare soil. Some say that ash from erupting volcanoes can often be a blessed burden, which can bring fertility to previously barren land.