FEED My MIND: Adventure. Learn. Live. Write.
Let’s talk, yes?
It’s a spring evening. There are a few days of storms rolling through. We have the humidity in mid-May that defies July’s trend setting style.
Pull in scenes of Gatsby, Gatsby when sitting in the drawing room, sweltering and shiny.
G wants his lover, Daisy, to come clean, to share all, to declare her loyalty and all she can do is fan herself in the heat, eat the ice.
Gatsby though, he presses forward. He declares. He brings a vision from his head and heart into stagnant, silent, stillness.
Tom, he struts and expects more love than he offers, fewer lies than he has told, more kindness than he brings.
The cigarette smoke lingers, circles, swallows the words as they hang naked and bared.
There are times when she needs a fast car, a long road, a gorgeous destination and a good fuck.