Breathing Like a Cool Blow
This week, stories inspired by One Cool Blow. Because, there are so many possible meanings. If you think you know the origin of One Cool Blow, play along until the end of the week to let others draw their own conclusions, though today’s reveals the true meaning for me. To follow the series from the first post, click here. Thanks for continuing to Click the Cootchie.
He never clocked how far he walked. Restless energy and scotch: they always sent his legs jittering past his car. Toward the scent of sulfur and mud. Waving grass and the twisted arms of live oaks, bowing along the edge of the marsh. His favorite spot to merge with the landscape, to sit and have his only smoke of the day.
The pulsing breeze always made it hard to light his cigarette. Every time, he had to shield himself behind the gnarled trunk that dwarfed him and cup his hand around the dancing flame. When it licked him, he remembered how he escaped. Again. Avoided being burned by the likes of the curve of her hips and big hair. One deep drag of smoke blew away and spelled out the fervor of her wave. It wasn’t casual. No, she’d wanted him to see.
He leaned back on a twisted oak branch, bigger around than he was, and stared at the sky fluttering through the canopy of leaves and mist of exhaled smoke. Wishing for a star to give him the right words, the right moves that would make her his. Saying Scotch. Neat. night after night after night, charging up on the brush of her fingers and the bend of her backside clearly wasn’t getting him anywhere.
Shifting his recline, he listened to the stillness. Grass rubbed together in the wind like an orchestra of rustling strings. He loosened his tie and extinguished his light, leaning into the blow, letting it encircle him, whisper the right words to say. Cool blows off the marsh were magic on a hot summer night in the South. They penetrated the thick air and licked dewey faces. Brought a fresh blast of relief. They even spoke secrets to supplicants, lost and lonely souls who needed a cool blow of air to blast their souls clean. Sometimes, they worked miracles, like bringing her voice to him in shifting strains before he saw her, shimmering in the moonlight under the shadow of his live oak tree.