Fun lil intro
Here’s a bit of a story starter I was playing around with–
All the girls sat round with those laser eyes that could melt a man, and the guys all stood with their arms crossed, jaw lines emphasized by five o’ clock stubble that could grind corn. I remember those nights. When the streetlights flickered on, we headed inside and down into the basement—cement rooms where the sphere of understanding was an incandescent red bulb struggling to stay lit on the far side nearest the stairs. In the warm darkness that shrouded the other half of the cellar, couples congregated and moaned sweet nothings, which were everything, into one another’s ears. Sometimes two pairs would be no more than a few inches apart—close enough to hear each other draw every rugged breath. The rest of us stood at the edge of the light, as I said, arms crossed in amidst the single girls, trying to impress them with our profiles, so that we too could wander into that carnal abyss.
About a month after leaving all that behind, I was in a train station, just sitting and not doing much of anything. The place reminded me of those basements. It took a moment for the realization to sink in—too many people packed in, feeding off of one another’s breath. It was winter and the cold season brought moans out of everyone’s throats. I knew the sounds weren’t sexual, but I couldn’t help thinking. The gray matter of the structure—the concrete walls—made me nostalgic. I reminisced on adrenaline. I remembered the final time I set foot in that basement. I’m certain it was the last night for a lot of us.
