It’s cold outside. I’m watching the gloom of London rain and whistling wind from my window and smile at my own reflection. My inner owl is back for a short while and I’m enjoying her company. Sarcastic conversations and derailed innuendos paid me a visit today.
I smile at the reflection again and touch it with my fingertips. It touches me back and this feels so surreal. Owls in double. I trace the drops of rain with my fingers and suddenly realise my reflection is rebelling. My inner owl is fluttering her eyelashes at me and refuses to mimic what I’m doing.
I smile. It winks.
I wink. It ducks.
I duck. It frowns.
And then it happens. I feel the touch. The presence is so vivid, I look around me just to be sure I’m definitely alone. Well, sort of. Hello again, my naughty inner owl…
A moving swirling tongue.
And wetness on the hand.
You’re toying with my mind the way you want to and I enjoy it. You force my thoughts to dance at your played tune and I don’t even dare resist it. Inhale. Exhale more loudly. You have your way with me just with your words.
The gloom of London rain is loud and wet. And so am I. Because you’re toying with my head so bloody much, my man of faraway land…
– Chatty Owl has left the building –