Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Chocolate Milk

Vaguely unsure of whether I'm asleep or awake I lie on my bed, on top of the covers. Every possible window is open to its fullest, yet makes little difference in these nights of such stillness. This is a stillness that allows me to hear the chiming of a tiny clock on the other side of town that I have never heard before, a stillness that carries the lulling rhythm of a railway track over two miles away to my bedside, and a stillness that allows me to measure the slightest, most delicate breeze across my back to the nearest millimetre.
There is only one thing that disturbs me from this posture, forcing my muscles to react against the continuation of this lovely dreamy summery night, and that is the thought of chocolate milk downstairs in the fridge. Suddenly I go from lazy reverie to a point where I'm forcing myself to stand upright and lurch half-asleep to the fridge humming away to itself in the kitchen.
I'm quite serious about this. Every so often throughout any given summer night, I make a trip to the fridge at least every half hour. And there really is nothing like it. Nothing.
After feeling my way downstairs, I open the door and bask in the lovely waft of cold whilst blinking in the light. My fridge is on slightly too high a setting, resulting in a chunk of ice on the back wall, and that is where my chocolate milk is hiding, hugging up against this mini-glacier.
The first big draught from the bottle is heaven, my knees sometimes buckling with pleasure as I feel the icy cold chocolate trickle down into my tummy. TIme stands still. Then I take another big drink. Time stands still again. I wait for the feeling to go away each time before taking another drink. Only after about three or four big glugs do I close the door and head back to bed, only to repeat the process in a half hour's time.
This is such a ridiculously simple pleasure, yet for me such an intense one. Only when I write something like this do I really reflect on how much of a pleasure it really is, yet in the accepted scheme of things it is hardly a footnote.
I'm not saying that we only remember only the 'big' things in life - that isn't true, but it does seem that often we devalue the tiny pleasures that seem to slip between the cracks.

8 comments:

Ester said...

hi Charlie =)

you are SO right here. It's the little things that make life so... so... special! For you it's chocolatemilk at night and for others it can be seeing a dog chasing a cat or something. =)

You're a great writer, Charlie. Keep up the good work ;-)

-x-

DidesCharlie said...

Thanks Est xx. There's probably lots of other little things - just gotta write about them.
Now I'm going to post on your blog.

charliexx

Iva said...

i like the idea behing this C. not just that its a small pleasure, but that it indeed makes life all the more worth living ... therefore completely proving the song "Join me" by Him wrong :P! (the bit where he sings "this life ain't worth living"- nonsense!)lol. it is for the bloody chocolate milk!!! xxx

DidesCharlie said...

Haha brilliant Iva. Anything that debunks the ramblings of those FInnish goth-lite poster boys has got to be good. Obviously, chocolate milk isn't in this guy's fridge or he wouldn't go around with such a grumpy outlook on life. :)

Iva said...

as Kah would say, you're such a spaz :P

DidesCharlie said...

hehe! :)
I hope you're not too much of a Him fan, after what I just said about them.

Iva said...

i absolutely hate them to be honest, any guy that uses that much make up forces me to switch the channel lol. and they are just too... dark for my liking. suicide music in more than one way, but hey thats just me! now stop spamming and write another entry!xxx

Ester said...

GRRRR How can you guys Hate HIM???? I LOVE THEM :P

so watch your words *evil look*