I was watching 'Robocop' today and I took a break to 'relieve myself' (take a piss for those unused to the niceties), when suddenly I was struck by a thought; not just a thought but a sensation. Something tangible; lips touching lips. Her tongue on mine, delicate not fervent, not at all passionate. Just a gentle gliding of flesh across flesh.
Why shoild I remember this?
Does it matter to me?
I was but an innocent, an innocemt child, when she crawled into my sleeping bag that night. In the hope for sex? Perhaps but then again, perhaps not. Perhaps she sought the same comfort as I. Merely someone who would hold her close and tell her that the world was not as awful as she dreamt it to be.
It is more than forty years since that encounter and still I cannot dismiss it from my memory. Why?
Was she my one true, abiding love. Or just my first?
Oh, what the hell. It's life!
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