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Go to the Espy.

15 Aug

The Espy was here, the music was here, he was here….but SHIT it felt different. Jesus. Where was Ross? Neil? The chick behind the bar he liked? The punter next to him smelled like soap, for fuck’s sake.

The band wasn’t too bad though. Everyone around him was taller…no joke, so he couldn’t see as well as he used to. Christ maybe he was shrinking. Ha ha.

Boom! There was Neil after all. Pissed as a fart as usual.

OY, GAZ mate“, slap hands. Neil smelled like roll-yer-owns, bless him.

“Didn’t know you was out. Wanna go for a smoke?”

“Yeahmate”, Gaz led the way out. The carpet was still sticky under his boots. All good.



Image

Speak out.

12 Aug

Change direction.

11 Aug

The rink music on open nights was a mix of 70’s hits, and she knew them all. People moved aside as she approached. Everyone knew her. No-one spoke to her.

Skating backwards pleased Rhonda…looking to where she’d just been, not where she was going. Around and round, leading with her ass, occasionally glancing briefly over her shoulder.

She failed her grade in Compulsory figures. “You have three months to nail your figure eights before the Championships” coach Miller warned, “or you’re out”.

Like Rhonda gave a crap. She would follow her perfect bottom into the new decade and beyond.



Know what you want.

10 Aug

The drone rose suddenly, gleaming, and stopped as if hitting an invisible wall. Will held his breath and it moved quickly again, sideways toward the boundary line.

He was struck dumb. His heart beat in his chest and pulsed in his ears. His mouth hung open and a noise came from his mouth like a lover’s sigh.

For the first time in his life, Will wanted something he didn’t already have.





Empty your hard drive.

8 Aug

What was it…no, that wasn’t it. Damn. That Chopin piece she learned by heart when she was seven? It must be the wine. Shit.

“Just relax and it will come. It’s called muscle memory”. He sat down beside her, pushing her along.

“You expect me to remember what I did fifty years ago when I don’t even know where I parked my car?”

“Go on. Hum the tune and let your hands follow.” Then all at once she was playing, and she closed her eyes but didn’t stop.

Come up for air.

4 Aug

He liked to pretend he was dead. In the deep end, he’d blow the air out of his lungs and sink slowly to the bottom. His toes would touch first, then his knees, and finally his hands. He never sank any further but remained poised, as if ready to spring.

As if springing into the abyss.

So far nobody had seen him do this,  at least no-one had tried to save him. Perhaps they had seen, but had chosen to look away. He saved himself, pushing upwards to break the surface with a rush of intake, the second, third and fourth breaths bringing him to a state close to happiness. Uplifting, literally.

It was a shame he couldn’t share his trick with the family.

Dreams fade.

30 Jul

He slept well but woke with a nagging thought. What was it he should remember?…then he knew.

The dream was still there, but what was the dream? Why could he not see it?

NO, come back!” He gripped it, squeezing for any last drop. He saw it fade before his eyes until it sagged limp in his hands. It was too late.

The future is unwritten.

28 Jul

Oh she was happy, and full of anticipation for her life ahead. The joy welled up in her so suddenly that she could barely breathe. How fortunate I am, she thought.

It was the warm Spring of 1914 and she was fourteen today. The new century was young and Bessie was young, and they were both absolutely perfect. She made a promise to herself to remember forever how she felt today.


Take a step back.

20 Jul

Damn…he’d done it again.

He tried giving the problem his whole attention, going over it again and again until he was dizzy. His situation was getting worse, if anything. He felt immobilised, frozen.

Where did he go wrong? How did he get here? If he could go back and start again…what would he do differently?

Stop the self-talk.

16 Jul

There she was again.

If he pulled up would she freak and run? Maybe she’d smile…even stop and chat for a bit. What does it take before a chick knows you’ve made it big time? The car?…the cashmere?…the Rolex? Maybe never; she was always up herself at school.

“Stuck up bitch”, whispered Amal as the light turned green.