The state of being half awake and not yet asleep. Hazy dreams surround you like a misty fog and you don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore. I was so used to my insomnia, I think I forgot how to fall asleep as all normal people do. Tonight I feel my legs being suspended by your kisses and I’m counting them instead of counting sheep.

Some silly phrases are still echoing in my head and I want to get lost in a web of your words. The ones that you haven’t told me yet.

Imagination is the most powerful tool I’ve got. Taking me places. In waves of pleasure. And in the peak of the moment, instead of whispering your name, I listen to the echoes in my head. “Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off”. Plain Jane Jones is not that plain tonight.

– Chatty Owl has left the building –


Congrats, you’ve just got yourself a new alarm clock, – she said.

– Huh? – you could notice his puzzled face.

– From now on, I will be the one waking you up. With blow jobs. At 3am and then again before you go to work. I’ll tilt my head from the edge of the bed for that wanted face fuck. I’ll spread my legs for you and force you to pin me down against the wall for lunch. And watch out for my long legs on your shoulders, I writhe when I come, – she explained.

He didn’t say anything. He had to fuck her.

– Chatty Owl has left the building –


Everything is so easy with us. You cuddle me from behind and look at my bouncy curls that glisten in the cold sun. “It’s November,” I say. And then give you half a smile.

“I ¬†like your thoughts knotty and mouth wide open.”

“I know,” you hear my reply.

We walk around an empty field and don’t hold hands. You point out that mine are way too cold.

But I’m cold all over, I think to myself. You should know it by now.

“I’ve never met anybody like you. Are all Eastern Europeans like this? With perky tits and complicated minds? I find you so alluring and attractive, it makes me somehow angry. You’re so bewitching, sometimes I don’t believe you’re not bionic.”

I look at you with that half smile. If you only knew…

– Chatty Owl has left the building –


Hungry magpies colour my vision with their blacks and whites. I thought I knew what colour was, but they just switched it off for me.

I look across the field for something. Yes, that. A silver flare playing in the bald patch of camomiles. A treasured ray of sun. Well, the reflection of it.

I’m just like that. A silver shadow in your grand¬†existence. A flickering light that has no rest. Please catch me if you care, before those hungry magpies will…

– Chatty Owl –


I baked a pie – naughty like my thoughts about you. Cherries reminded me of your long fingers and nuts spoke about your merits for me. I wanted to see your face in those sugar cubes, but they have melted down – just like your compliments for me. I wanted to taste your opinion about me, but it has evaporated like a bottle of perfume. I was biting the pie bit by bit from every angle and spitting it back on the plate – just like wine tasting. And then I realised it’s stupid – a pie is not that sophisticated as good wine.

Next time I’ll bake a pie that will have a taste of you and I will drink it in one go. Like cough syrup.

– Chatty Owl has left the building –


If I were a finch, I would sit on your neighbour’s roof and shit on his tulips. And you couldn’t say anything, the flowers are not yours! I would gawk at all your four windows and I would screech in a loud horrible manner. And you know, when you’d want to show off in front off your uncle and fry him two lots of potatoes with those stinky onions, I would hop so hard on the roof, that all onions would jump out of the pan. Hell yeah, not only the neighbour would laugh, but the tulips too. The ones on the right.

And you know, when you’ll be eating your porridge with a wooden spoon two days from now and you’ll be thinking how to get your revenge on me, I’ll be already on the roof on the other side of the village and won’t remember either the tulips or the stink of those onions.

– Chatty Owl has left the building –


Today let’s talk about women. Special women. The ones, that can be softly evil. Even a little bit disgusting. (To other women). Today let’s talk about women that catch every man’s eye. Or sometimes even both of them. Women like that are everywhere – you can see them sitting in the corner of a cafe or at the back of the bus. They are fiddling with a string of hair, cross their legs when it’s not needed and look down in a sexy manner so they could look up at you again and make you shiver. They are so naturally fake, that you want to dunk one in your coffee or keep it in your pocket. Where your heart is. Close.

And I’m one of them.

– Chatty Owl –

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