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Commit.

22 Oct


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Drink champagne.

21 Oct

Wake up to yourself.

25 Sep

He missed her so fuckin’ much. What happened? He had no clue and she wasn’t gonna tell him. She said there was no point, she wasn’t changing her mind.

He couldn’t stop following her around the house while she packed. Her books, her horse gear, her photos. Stuff he’d never paid attention to until now. She worked fast and she was humming. It meant nothing that he could smoke inside now, or eat junk. He’d give it all away if she she’d just get her ass home again.

He took his wedding ring off this morning. That’d show her.


Meditate.

17 Sep

She liked to dry the dishes twice, once straight out of the dishwater, and again before putting them away. She was polishing really, not just drying them. There was something steady and reassuring about doing it that way.

After breakfast Andy liked to watch her from the table, while he smoked. Sometimes he asked her, “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, this and that” she would say, without turning. To be truthful she wasn’t thinking about anything at all. Neither this nor that.

 

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Enjoy the ride.

9 Sep

Look up.

7 Sep

Ernie was home on shore-leave before redeployment…it was his idea. “Get up there” he said, “you haven’t lived until you’ve done it.” She had to admit the view was spectacular once she found her balance. A full moon hung in a clear sky and stars glimmered in the distance. Not a breath of wind blew.

Dad’s viewing platform was unfinished. His plan was to bring his telescope up to stargaze on clear nights, and that never happened. Now she was surprised to realise she felt closer to him up here than in the years since he died.

“Hello Dad.”

“Did you say something?” Ernie’s voice floated up from below.

 “IT’S ME, BETTY”, she was sitting now, looking up.

“I know who it is”, his face appeared now over the gutter. “Move over”, he sat down and lit a cigarette.

“Dust off the telescope, big brother.  It’s gonna be you, me, Dad and the universe.”

 

 


Check it out.

30 Aug

I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT WAS” she shone the torch up and around, “PROBABLY THE ROOF TIN COOLING DOWN.”

This is roomy (thinking), could I use this space…a sauna? Studio? Plenty of head clearance. I could even make up a guest bedroom. Sammy could come and stay as long as he wants. I’ll call him right now and tell him…he can help me fix it up.

I’ll see if I still have his number…AH!..here it is.

((((RRRIIINNGG))))  

((((RRRIIINNGG)))


Speak softly.

26 Aug

“Do you see it…there! He did it again.”

“Damn, I missed it.”

“Here, look. Who’s your daddy?”

“Nup. Sorry.”

“WHO’S YOUR DADDY?”

“I SAID WHO’S YOUR FUCKING DADDY?”

“Oh…now you’ve made him cry. Give him to me.”

 

Change the locks.

25 Aug

She loved the pool terrace when it was like this, cool and fragrant in the evening. She lit a cigarette and closed her eyes.

“Hello Sylvia.”

Spinning, she saw him standing barely an arm’s length away.

“But you…you can’t possibly be here!”

“Clearly I can, darling, be sensible” he smiled, “Do I look like a dead man?”.

He bent down, and stubbed the cigarette that had fallen from her hand. She smelled his cologne, and a memory washed through her.  A memory of such fear, and pure panic, and violence, that she was made clumsy with shaking.

Then he stood up to face her…so close…

“No need to be afraid”, he kissed her lightly, “I’m here now to look after you.”

 

Enjoy your flight.

24 Aug

Flying felt much like swimming naked. The same cool rush through her bare legs, the same surge upwards with every kick. If she kept kicking, what would she find above her?

Her wings (her wings!) moved effortlessly in rhythm with her breathing. An exhilarating, sweet song swelled in her head, or was it outside?

She made a mental note to ask for Propofol for her next general anaesthetic.