Thursday, 16 May 2013

Morphine Memories Three.

1 August 1993. Pantin, Spain

She came back the next day.

I was feeling terrible from all of those Vodka screwdrivers, the Spanish summer sun baking down on me in the back of the Kombi, the smell of urine from the girl locked in the whole night was horrible, there were thousands of people all around the Kombi parked at the contest, it was finals day and the beach was packed.

I heard the knock on the kombi door, they were almost getting irritating, the amount of girls always asking to come into the van, almost.

I slowly got up, it was mid-afternoon already and when I slid the door open there she was. As stunning as the night before, jet black hair, tight jeans and a t shirt, if possible even more beautiful than I remembered with that Gaultier leather jacket. It`s always a worry the next morning seeing a girl again, alcohol has a horrible way of distorting your perception.

Not this time, my heart almost stopped, seeing her standing there, she said she would come but I only half believed it, but there she was.

I was in a state, the kombi stank of wet wetsuits, piss and alcohol, I had to get her away from there. It was the finals day so we went and watched a few heats and talked, it was my lucky day she spoke pretty good English so we managed just fine.

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