I didn't mean to slam the door behind me, but it was stiff and I was fumbling. I walked the first five minutes with tears tracking mascara down my cheeks, listening for my name, the sound of regret and running feet. Nothing. I paused and lit a cigarette with a shiver and a snivel, then walked on. I thought of walking home, leaving the cold to bite me and becoming a martyr for my cause. But my leaving was for the sake of sensible, responsible, other unpleasant ibles. So I got as far as the seafront and I hailed a taxi.
Love Lane, please. I strapped myself in. Love Lane, he repeated softly. Are you okay? I nodded, catching a glimpse of myself in his mirror. He turned the heating up, turned the country sad songs down, swung the car around and carried me home. And for his silence I was warmly, pathetically grateful.
Love Lane, please. I strapped myself in. Love Lane, he repeated softly. Are you okay? I nodded, catching a glimpse of myself in his mirror. He turned the heating up, turned the country sad songs down, swung the car around and carried me home. And for his silence I was warmly, pathetically grateful.
29 comments:
Oh dear *hugs*
a very fitting song by the sounds of it, hope you feel better soon
Aw. Does Granny know about this?
What's the translation of the song? Can't find one on the interweb. I'm assuming it's Welsh.
it's cornish, it translates roughly as "she spilled my pint" and is the title of a track by Aphex Twin.
argh.
sensible sucks.
as does Love Lane. How can a place possibly be called that?
x
There's an Ad Agency with offices on Coke Lane in Smithfield.
popular spot for ladies of the night, Sarah, or at least it used to be. and it could be worse, i could live down the road, on Misery Hill.
I used to live near you Rosie! Another interesting fact is that there's a Faggot Hill in Cork, near Blarney
That's so sad coming so soon after the five o'clock shadow post. Wish I could think of something comforting or constructive or even amusing to say.
oh hang on, this was a row with a friend was it? Not the man.
aw shit man. x
Ack.
Gah.
Hurting for you love.
serious?
sounds like somebody needs a hug
it was a friend. aw shit, ack and gah for serious. but we'll be okay.
still, i'll take that hug.
I hope you worked your way through to edible.
interesting fact is that there's a Faggot Hill in Cork, near Blarney
Dildo, in Newfoundland
I used to live in Lad Lane. Also popular with the prossers. In fact there was strong evidence to suggest that the place we lived in was until very recently a brothel.
Dildo in Newfoundland... just up the way from Conception Bay. Serious.
and Stocking Lane in Dublin leads up to Mount Venus...
evidence, EM?
hope you're okay there rosie
Hope you're feeling better now too.
I used to live in Loveless House, which was just off of Slag Lane. Telemarketers used to think it was hilarious. Bastards.
that is fucking hilarious.
there's a road called Glen Close somewhere
I know. People would think it was Lovelace and I'd have explain that no, it was as in without love. Sob. The flats held 3 widows, a divorcee and me. My 5 year relationship broke down within 6 months of moving in...
I knew a horsey type called her house Dunryden.
Honest to God now.
Oh well, it's suppposed to be all about your pain and all Rosie but has nobady thought of Stillorgan?
Ballsbridge is another that always makes me titter
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