Read Online Outsider by W. Freedreamer Tinkanesh - Free Book Online

shedding
helmet and jacket, and letting the fast rhythm of the moment guide
her feet. A wave of relief washed immediately across the stage and
Sid’s skin automatically relaxed. She temporarily forgot about her
fresh tattoo still itching under her black combats, and her latest
short story.
    After the too short set, some canned music
started to spell out pop tunes in fashion and Sid caught up with a
few known faces, regular Second Look fans like the heavily tattooed
and pierced woman who only danced when no one else would, but that
evening was on paraphernalia-stall duty, and a few women who had
eventually relented to Sid’s insistence. Yes, Second Look was a
band to check out, definitely. Jessie had come, too and requested
from Sid:
    “Show me your leg!”
    Sid had obliged and rolled up a trouser leg
to expose the shiny totem pole, coloured with the traditional Haida
black, red, blue and white.
    Talking about the musicians. In between two
chats, the singer spotted the writer and grabbed her for one of her
famed bear hugs. Swiftly moving on, Terri introduced her girlfriend
Justine to Sid, and next found herself entranced in an enthusiastic
chat with a tall, skinny woman with long, auburn hair, bright smile
and red roses tattooed on her upper arms. Sid exchanged a few words
with Justine who, incidentally, had read “Tequila After Dark” and
“The Beast(s)” and reported Terri’s enthusiasm to Sid in between
puffs of cigarette. Sid remembered Justine from the Black Crow, one
of the many silhouettes in the audience. Somehow, not someone she
would notice, but it didn’t matter since Justine was with Terri and
Sid had someone else squatting her mind and her dreams.
    After an acquaintance grabbed Justine away,
Sid’s eyes found themselves drifting around the venue. Not
interested in the alcoholic offerings of the bar or any eyes
meeting hers, she searched towards the stage.
    Dawn was still on the stage, packing up some
mini disks or doing whatever she usually did after a gig. Sid
looked at her with shortsighted, brown eyes, unable to guess,
feeling shy and nervous, the wolf and the whale debating about the
best possible next step.
    There was something she wanted to know, so
much that she didn’t care about the crowd around her. She knew
about Terri’s hugs, Terri being as generous with her hugs as her
voice was powerful. And Terri was a great hugger. She hugged
strong, but not tight. The best hugger in town. What about Dawn?
The keyboard player was so elusive. Suddenly, Sid had to know, she
had to find out. Now. There and then. But Dawn was too reserved a
person to hug groupies after a 2-minute chat. Only one way for Sid
to get a hug. The anti-depressants giving her a wackier than usual
sense of humour, she could have explained herself as a student
researching, analyzing, comparing, cataloguing hugs.
    Sid selected the direct approach. She walked
onto the stage she would have loved to share with Second Look.
    “Dawn?”
    “Yes?” The musician turned to Sid with a
smile.
    “Could you do me a favour?”
    “Sure!”
    “Could you give me a hug?”
    The smile took an amused turn and Dawn made
the step necessary to close her arms around Sid. The embrace was
honest, with a softness invading Sid’s heart. The writer felt a
sudden desire to protect the musician from whatever harm would ever
come her way. It was overwhelming. Dawn withdrew after a hug too
brief for Sid, unaware of Sid’s emotions.
     
    * * * * * * *
     
    Sid Wasgo was unwilling to write openly in
her diary about her feelings for Dawn, her chaotic hormones. A few
next entries read as follow:
    “ I have enough illusions to corrupt me for
a lifetime
    Illusions born out of excessive
enthusiasm
    Anything could be so much better than
isolation”
    “ I got it all wrong my entire life and I
still don’t get it. It took me a lifetime to get my rhythm
together. It took me a lifetime to understand the value of my
voice. And I’m still nowhere.”
    “ Dreamed