Sylvie Hill

(Last Chance) Fill ‘er Up

Data half-way at Maxville, Herb’s Gas Filling station for the bad-impressionists on the first date.

“What are your dates” he asked. I replied: “one is with this guy, I think, but not really,” I surmised. “Yes, I see, at least we can talk in the rain now,” the man in Yellow said. I wanted to shout YES, SEND ME SPICE, I will Like. “Perhaps later” he might (you must!).

I’m not only silly, I’m occupied. “Don’t worry, I’m not your type,” he said. Free?

Ok then, guess I’m ready to go get my fill, meet on a data half-way at Maxville, Herb’s Gas Filling station for the bad-impressionists on their first date.

‘And you keep on driving through the city lights.’ Goddammit: SEE the fiction is on the mind! No car today, I’ll take my bike! You energize my ride (“don’t worry, you’ll crash soon.” Swoon. “I’m not your type … I’m not your type.”)

Last chance To Swoon Saloon? No. Last chance to get my fuel as blood pumps. I’m so alive across the pond, and half-way but not on the way to a data plan at Maxville, Herb’s Filling Station.

© Sylvie Hill 2013