Fiction by HS Quarmby
My toy elephant sat on the top bed of the hotel bunk. He surveyed the room as I fussed about in my bag. Another person entered and I looked up briefly to say hello. I heard as they hoisted themselves up onto their bunk across from me, now eye level with my elephant.
“What is his name?” my room mate asked me with an undetermined accent.
“My name?” I said, misunderstanding.
“Well yes, your name and the elephants name?” He repeated with a laugh.
“Oh,” I said. “He is Laurence, he is my travel companion.” I explained. “And your name?”
He said it once, but in the unfamiliar language, I did not catch it.
I asked again and still could not get it. Embarrassed, I did not want to sound rude and ask for a third time so I just let it pass and hope it was not going to be very important.
We started discussing my love for elephants and I found out that the accent was from Israel. It took me a little while but I became sure that he was more interested in me than my elephant. The feeling was mutual, he was tall and dark with gorgeous full lips and soft brown eyes. I had to hand it to the guy, it was defiantly one of the better chat up lines I had heard.
“There is a really good cinema here in the town.” he told me after a while. “They have a film on about elephants tonight, would you like to go with me?”
I of course said yes.
The local cinema of Wananka, New Zealand, is really cool. Instead of the normal seats and pop corn, we relaxed on sofas chopping hot, crumbly, home made cookies. The lucky first people into the cinema got to sit in a yellow Beetle.
The film was not wholly about elephants; but the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel did have some in it and was enjoyable enough.
About half way through I moved closer on the sofa. I felt him stretch his arm out in the imitation of a yawn, then felt it fall around me, pulling me closer in the age old trick.
I turned my head towards him and he caught my gaze.
Please do not ask me what happened in the end of the film, I do not know. I was giggling like a teenager went the lights finally came back up.
We walked arm in arm back to the hostel.
It was quite late by then and the lights were out in the common areas but neither of us wanted to go to sleep just yet so we found a bathroom on the first floor that could be securely locked
Naked, his body was amazing, muscled with such soft skin. His stamina was impressive, even in our cramped, uncomfortable surroundings, so it was very late when we snuck back into our room and headed to our separate beds.
The next morning I needed to leave early and he was still asleep as I hosted on my rucksack on and left the room.
I still did not know his name.
RELATED: Mr Tuesdays
RELATED: Petit Gâteau
Young and innocent I left my small home town in England to go travelling and I don't think I have stopped yet. Currently in France, I write about my travels, experiences and the fictional stories inspired by them. You can read a full selection of these on HSQuarmby.wordpress.com.