Dizzy (Piano Man chapter 5)

“And the lady with the mule head! And the hall of mirrors! Ooh, and the Marilyn Monroe memorabilia! Oh, I loved it all so much! Such wonderful oddities, it makes the hairs on my arms stand up!”

On the way home from the Ripley exhibit, Tim couldn’t stop talking about what we had seen in there. His enthusiasm wasn’t shared. I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than a good long sleep in my comfortable bed.

Tim, however, had other plans. At the Eros statue, on Picadilly Circus, he stopped me.

“I want to take a picture of you.” he said.

“What? Whatever for?”

“Just because. Not everything I do has a purpose. Or does it?”

“Tim…”

He pressed a finger to my lips to shut me up. It was an odd feeling, a finger, right there. Skin on my lips.

“Shh! One picture. Is that so bad?”

I shook my head and obeyed his instructions to sit on the stairs under Eros. I sighed and stared off into the distance, trying not to focus on Tim, or the arguing couple sitting next to me.

“Come on, Daisy, it was just a bit of fun!”

“John, I warned you! The next time you flash your willy to my department manager, I’ll personally castrate you!”

As Daisy stood up and huffily walked away from John, leaving him to scurry after her, apologizing, I couldn’t keep my smile to myself. It was the most random thing I had heard or seen all day and it made me laugh.

A few seconds later, Tim walked up to me, pulled me by the arm and said, “Let’s go!”

“Let’s go? Have you taken the picture already?”

His lips curled up in a smile. “I may have. Come on, I got somewhere we can go.”

“Tim, I’m tired! Let me go home!”

“So you can lie down and bottle up your feelings? Oh no, little sparkler, we are going places and seeing faces, and you are going to jump and scream and laugh.”

“Tim!” I cried out. I was increasingly frustrated by something deep inside me that wouldn’t manifest in anything useful, apart from anger.

“What? Are you scared?” he said, still smiling. How could he never stop smiling? What was so great about his life that was lacking from mine?

“Come on, Jem! There are things to be done!”

With bundles of enthusiasm, he dragged me towards every place I could imagine. We ended up walking down The Mall, towards the Royal Palace. Hundreds of tourists flitted around us, and I felt a panic attack coming.

I wanted to run away, but Tim’s vice-like grip on my arm prevented me from going anywhere.

“You’re not kidnapping me, are you?” I hissed into his ear.

“Not at all! What do you think I am, some kind of nutter?”

I tried to stop walking, but he pulled me along. “Well, yes! Why are you doing all of this?”

“Because I know what it’s like to live with a broken heart, and I want to help you heal yours.”

He stopped, nearly making me trip. “Look, Jem, you don’t have to put up with me, because, really, I am quite insane, but I can help you. Let me help you.”

His eyes were the sweetest I’ve ever seen, and in realizing that, I found it best to look away. But what was the harm? Why should I not let him into my life? I could keep him at as much distance as I want, or I could let him… let him see into my soul.

I nodded and murmured, “At least tell me where you’re taking me.”

He loosened his hold on me and said, “Nowhere special. I just wanted to go for a peaceful walk in the park.”

“Oh. Alright. To the park then.”

Whilst we walked, I wondered what it was that had broken Tim’s heart? Was that why he behaved so erratic? Or was it just a newfound lust for life?

We found a quiet spot in St. James Park, and both reclined on the drying grass.

“Lie back.” said Tim, doing the same himself. I lay back on the grass, feeling wayward drops of rain through my t-shirt. The moist on my back felt nice.

“It’s a lovely sky today. Look at the fuzzy clouds, Jem. Can you see their true colors?”

I turned my head to him. “What do you mean?”

“Can you see what they really are? Like that one over there?” he said, pointing at a cloud. “Looks like something spectacular, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does, but I get quite dizzy staring at the sky. Can’t I just stare at you?”

He chuckled. “Very well.”

We both turned to face each other. From this close, his eyes were even sweeter. That warm feeling in my heart I had whenever I was with him was now radiating through me.

“Tell me what you’re feeling.” he said.

I wanted to tell him that he was scaring me. That my mistake in asking to face him was making me feel giddy and warm and everything good in the world. That his body heat was making me feel again.

“I don’t know.” I said softly. “Dizzy, I think.”

“In what way? In a spinning-around-and-falling-on-my-bum-afterwards kind of way?”

“Not like that. Like I’m on a rollercoaster that won’t stop. You know that feeling in your stomach when you’re about to be propelled down?”

“But that’s a seriously good feeling! It means tension, drama, excitement! Such a sweet release, Jem. Almost… yes, almost like an exceptional orgasm.”

I involuntarily winced. I couldn’t even remember what an orgasm felt like, let alone an exceptional one.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Come on, have you never had an orgasm that just took your breath away and made your heart nearly strike tilt?”

I hoped my silence was significant enough for him. But unfortunately, he probed on.

“You’ve never had an orgasm so spectacular that you remained momentarily paralyzed afterwards, thinking you’d never move again? One that felt like you were made out of all the fizzy drinks in the world?”

“Stop it. I don’t like to talk about it. It’s a thing of the past.”

“Fair enough. But I do hope you’ve had at least one of those. It’s a wonderful thing to experience. And, for that matter, so is this.”

At first, I had no idea what he was talking about, but then I noticed. He was holding my hand, his fingers flawlessly entwined with mine.

Every inch of me wanted to pull away, but I just lay there, looking him in the eye with our fingers tangled together.

“A penny for your thoughts?” he said.

Warmth. Glow. Blush. Intimacy, closeness, topsy-turvy, random words flitting through my brain.

I was so dizzy, it was scaring me. Afraid to come down.

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2 Comments

  1. Your description of an orgasm “that felt like you were made out of all the fizzy drinks in the world” is a very unique bit of imagery.

    I am enjoying Tim and Jem’s interaction, but you know who I’d really like to read a story about? John and Daisy. From the very brief snippet of dialogue they share, I suspect there is a significant backstory begging to be told.

    -Jack

    Reply
    • The fizzy drinks thing didn’t come out as I had intended to, but I hope it got the sentiment out that I wanted: being bubbly due to orgasms.

      John and Daisy have a backstory, and it’s up now for you to read!

      xx

      Reply

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