Rain, Rain

Boy, did it rain. Fuck me! Did it come down. The day went black. The world outside went mad. Rocks, it would seem, crashed down from the sky. The roof crackled with the rain drops. Steve and I stood by a window and held hands, without thinking, as it did; standing on the inside looking out – warm and dry watching the world drip and gush – like motion sickness, warm and dry watching the world drown.

We smoked pot and watched DVD's until late. I'm catching up on the pile I have waiting to be watched. Steve brought the pot, he got it from a client. You could have pushed me over with a feather. Usually, it's tut-tut that stuff will rot your brain.

I like him on pot, he got very cuddly. He smelt good, he always does, though. I love smelling his face and his hair... then I know it's him. I lick his ear, but he jumps, every time. He's got the softest skin, I like rubbing my nose on it. To tell you the truth, I like rubbing my nose on any part of him.