Monday, July 18, 2011

Backseat

All I hear is the boom boom boom of the speakers in time with the pound pound pounding of my fifteen year old heart.

Heat. Heat outside and inside. So much heat.

Windows rolled up, both my head and the car foggy from smoke.

Eyes closed. The taste of Boone’s Fuzzy Navel and saliva. My back pressing into the seat belt. Legs falling asleep. Head wedged at an impossible angle. Jeans still zipped. Shirt being worked upward by callused hands I barely know, by a smile I saw at a party, a smile I was surprised noticed me at all.

Speakers pound as if both disconnected and dictatorial. Trunk subwoofers overwhelm every object pervasively. Everything pounds along obediently, including my head.

He moves against me. Jeans against jeans. Hands fumbling, squeezing in time. Tongues wrestle.

Exciting and scary. Stupid and irresistible.

This is not the fantasy of a young poet, yearning for romantic meter and the magical seduction she’d pictured.

Not this smoky backseat of an old Mustang deaf with noise, no room but for the booming. Not the sounds of breath or sighs or even a moment for a compliment.

Yet it was not without caprice and my body was certainly not saying no.

I was not entirely saying yes either, but for now somewhere in between felt good. I’d give over to the intoxication of the night, of the heavy pulse in the thick air.

I never have to say no and he wouldn’t have heard me anyway. Eventually climbing off me. I tug my top down. Suddenly shy.

No words spoken, he ruffles his disheveled head and we climb into the front seat. As he drives me home, the windows down, wind rushing through the car, the sound pouring out, performing for the stars, he shouts mysterious words at me.

Words swallowed into sheer sound.

I shout, “WHAT?” but can’t even hear my own voice.

Home, the silence is disorienting.

I still move with the boom boom booming.



This was a post for the RemebeRED prompt: Write about a time that rhythm, or a lack thereof, played a role in your life. And don’t use the word “rhythm.” Maybe it’s a time that you danced to a special song. Maybe it’s a period of your life during which the days were marked by a distinct pattern. Or maybe it’s a time that you couldn’t catch your breath because life just kept coming at your randomly. It’s up to you. Let’s see if you can convey that rhythm using your writing, and not the word itself. Word limit is 600. 

12 comments mean you love me:

Cat Chat With Caren And Cody said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

You definitely met and surpassed the challenge!

SUPERB!

alonewithcats said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Oh ... so this is what it was like to be sexually active before age 21. ;)

Anonymous said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

You told me not to read it. But I'm SO glad I did. You're such an AMAZING writer!

Honest Convo Gal said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Props for being bold! I have to admit, I read it twice: once as a writer from the TRDC and once for sheer enjoyment. I loved it. And the boom boom was really well used. I think you did a great job with this.

Kir said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

I was actually going to write about having sex for the first time, but because I couldn't do it justice like this, I am glad I didn't.

I felt every movement, every yes then no, the booming not only in the speakers but in various parts of my body...
it was fantastic.

Great job.

Jennifer said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Wow, you did a great job of creating noise through words.

I felt that booming, felt my ears starting to ring. I love how this piece is both screamingly loud and quietly thoughtful.

I always felt that in the center of huge noise, like a concert, or in this case a car, there is a place of quiet, like the brain can only process so much noise at once.

finallyMom said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Oh i really like this. great, great job!

Karen said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Wowza....you nailed this! The rhythm came through so strongly here and even with kidlets and stuffed animals bouncing (literally) around me, my attention did not wane until you were home, hearing the booming only in your mind! :>

Stopping in from TRDC.

Katie @ Chicken Noodle Gravy said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Now THAT'S rhythm. And what a great response to the prompt. You captured the emotions, the fear, the exhilaration of that moment perfectly. My favorite line was this: "This is not the fantasy of a young poet, yearning for romantic meter and the magical seduction she’d pictured." I remember obsessing over a similar fantasy...the first time is never quite poetic, is it?

Great job! Stopping by from TRDC.

Galit Breen said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Hat tip for going for this.

Rhythm, indeed.

You did an excellent job of portraying your thoughts within what was happening.

Suniverse said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Holy hell, woman, I knew you were a great writer but this? INCREDIBLE.

Seriously. I'm in love with you all over again.

You are amazing.

Cheryl said...Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

I really liked this, could hear the boom boom boom in my ears. I also liked the somewhat dreamlike quality of the piece.

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