Wednesday, August 08, 2007


Love on the airfield

I was securing the mounting bracket for the wing when he approached. Tall, good-looking but with a geeky hint of the teenager about him, his swagger doing a bad job to hide twenty-two years of little town oppression.
"Hey Jasper, how're you doing?" I wasn't quick to answer. I wasn't quick to anything. Being handsome and collosal meant I could be slow and that and it dodn't matter. And that.
"Howdy Daniel. What's going on?" I replied. I had recently taken to saying "howdy". It was the late nineteen-fifties and saying "howdy" had just replaced the hula-hoop as the height of fashionable fun.
"Oh Jasper. You're saying howdy now. Jeez, I just can't get into the habit." Daniel blushed as he spoke. I liked it when he blushed he looked like he was a bit sunburnt. That, in turn, reminded me of bacon and I sure did like a big slab of bacon. Oh yes.
"It's easy to do, Daniel. All you got to do is think before you speak." I said, sagely.
"How do you mean?" He said, anti-sagely.
"Well, when you approached me what were you thinking?" I hadn't meant this as an angle for compliments, I usually didn't have to angle being so darn cute. "Darn" was another word I was using these days.
"I was thinking how good you looked securing that mounting bracket. I thought how lucky the plane was to have you working its... er..." he blushed again.
"Nuts, Daniel?" I stared at him thoughtfully.
"Er... yeah." His eyes met mine. We drank one another in. Slowly we moved closer and closer, like two planets unable to defy gravity or the laws of physics.
"Goodballoon!" It was the airfield foreman, Simpson. Daniel and I jumped away from one another. "Have you finished securing that mounting bracket for that wing yet? mr Holly needs to be in the air in ten minutes."
"Yes sir." I spat back.
I returned to my work, by my concentration was on something else. The rest, as they say, is tragic musical history.

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