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other three, “Let’s go up. It’s an awesome view.”    “Okay, Okay,” Nick said, with eyes still shut.   “Wake up!”    “Alright, alright. Get some drinks to take up.”    “We’re all out of mixers,” said Layla.    “No there’s still some left in Mali’s kitchen. In the spare fridge,” Abby replied.    “Go get them.”    “No, you go get them.”    “I can’t move. Take pity.”    Layla and Alex were the chosen ones. They, not without complaint and protest, made their way around the garden, past the maid’s room. There was a smaller outhouse comprised of three rooms with different entrances located in Abby’s backyard: in the middle was where their housemaid, Mali, lived with her husband; the right housed a toilet, shower and bidet; the one on the left, which Layla and Alex approached, contained a kitchenette with a gas stove. It smelt like turmeric, cardamom and cumin. At the back of the room there was wavering towers of boxes, odd ends and stuffed plastic bags in storage. It was pitch black inside and the door swung shut behind them. “Shit,” Layla said with an exaggerated shriek. They fumbled around, blind, looking for the fridge door with their hands, slowly adjusting to the dark. Layla admired the shadow of Alex’s profile on the wall. He had a grand Roman nose, nobly protruding from his gaunt and boney structured face. She poked him in the stomach, just above his groin and said, “This reminds me of seven minutes in heaven.” He found her face and pulled her closer and kissed her. Her hand moved down and unbuckled his belt, pushing her hand underneath his boxers till she found his penis hard in her hand. She squeezed him tight, moving her hand back and forth, rubbing him up and down. He let out an animalistic grunt. She pulled away laughing, opened the fridge which shed light on the room and grabbed two bottles of champagne. She exited, down the marble stairs, onto the mildewed grass.    They climbed the ladder onto the rooftop. Abby and Nick sung on their precarious journey up. The sun had begun its journey into the day, pushing the night aside, illuminating its inky stains. They stood, leaning against the white wall that surrounded them, held them in safe, inhibiting them from tipping off the edge. The clouds looked like they had been shaped by an impression of the desert sands on the sky. They could see the ocean to their left and to their right, an array of buildings. The tallest building in the world emerged from fog, beyond the mistymorning, above the clouds. Nick, his big blue eyes blood shot, waved his hands in the air, floppy yet persistent. He looked at Abby, who looked very small and fragile, the back of her dress soiled with sooty grime. He put his arm around her shoulders gently and pointed at the colossal edifice 100

LIJLA Vol.2, No.1 February 2014

Profile for Sacred Heart College

LIJLA Vol. 2 No. 1 Feb. 2014  

Short Fiction/Poetry/Visual Arts/Tanka by James Wall, Shanta Acharya, Billy O'Callaghan, Henry Stindt, George Szirtes, Kala Ramesh, Catheri...

LIJLA Vol. 2 No. 1 Feb. 2014  

Short Fiction/Poetry/Visual Arts/Tanka by James Wall, Shanta Acharya, Billy O'Callaghan, Henry Stindt, George Szirtes, Kala Ramesh, Catheri...

Profile for lijla
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