Moving

PssssssT, another can of the bitter ale of Tooheys New cracked open. the skyline danced wit the blink of red tail lights and a go no-where pirroette. That sun slowly sank as he glared across the lifless tree filled void between him and the city, it was the end. The end of something, of what, that was yet to be decided.

Time moved in ebbs and flows with random dictonomy, the world was changing. More importantly his world was changing, where it was going was anyones guess. The girl he loved and woke up beside was just a girl, not a lover, not a friend, just a girl. She said she loved him but women lie, they all do.

Another night alone beside her awaited, the longing for the touch, the momeries of her body, the touches he couldn't foreget, her breasts, her ribs, thighs and stomach. The memories no ones hands could forget... The embrases, the passionate and desperate hold.... Now nothing more then a memory of seemingly forever ago.

But was it the end?

Sam had announced his leaving the squaller hole in which the for of them chose to reside. If anyone fo any importance had bothered to examine the house they would have seen that it was beyond habitation and had resolved itself to the relms of despiration, much like its occupants.

The four bedroom old queenslander perched itself over looking the city on the last hill in Toowong, Cemetry bounded by road on one side, residencies on either an the useless valley between it and the city. The deaf lady to the west ahd no complications with the four of us, the rental to the east had some younger hospitality workers in it that tended toward the music and drinks on a tuesday night and the most inappropriate of times.