Chintz

On an autumn morning, a gaudily-dressed man pushed a wheelbarrow across my path as I walked to the station on my way to work. On the wheelbarrow was an armchair, covered with a fabric I had not seen for twenty years. It was precisely the same chintz that a previous L had used to cover a sofa and two armchairs. I knew it well, for finding it, buying it, and having the chairs covered had not been straightforward, and L of the past had very clear ideas about how it should be. There are so many anniversaries now, of deaths, of kisses, of break-ups, of declarations, of interviews both professional and personal....
I dreamt last night that S, someone I have know for several years, and I were together, walking naked in the hills. We fucked on a sheep and rabbit-shit strewn hillside. She wept as we fucked, as she quivered and jerked in orgasm, Afterwards, I held her, her handsome body so warm in my arms I could still feel it when I woke. I asked if she would see me again. I expected her to say no, but she said she wanted to, crying again as she said so. Then the scene changed from country to town, to central London in fact, where I found myself in a flat in Soho, under house arrest.

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