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Move forward, look back.

15 Dec

Milos thought the stars seemed brighter at Christmas, and alhough there was no snow on the ground, there was a clarity in the way the lamps lit the walk to Regent’s Park.

“Don’t worry, this will feel like home soon”. Gabor sounded like he meant it.

But would it? His memories were so fresh it was hard to believe this was not Budapest.

Nineteen fifty seven! Say it Milos…NINETEEN FIFTY SEVEN. A great time for a young man to begin his life of freedom!”.

 


Choose.

10 Dec

Everywhere he turned there was another, more lovely than the last. Their skin, their hair, their voices melted together like warm syrup on his tongue. He head spun.

“Go! Leave me be! I need time to consider”.

And suddenly they were gone. He was alone, his hair grey, the taste of old age dry as dust on his lips.


Trust your man.

9 Dec

“Don’t be afraid” Tim’s eyes were blue, unblinking.

“I can’t see the bottom” she said, ” and you’re slippery”.

“Ha! Well that’s not fair”.

There was no sound but for the cicadas near the dam. They pulsed like the fear in her. Growing…swelling. She concentrated on breathing in…and now out.

She could feel the heat of his grip even in the cool water.


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Love can hurt.

5 Dec

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Have one good suit.

30 Nov

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Hang on.

28 Nov

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Get your own trapeze.

26 Nov

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Travel.

23 Nov

Call your mum at Christmas.

21 Nov

Will you¬†remember me? I will stop and wait for you to pass. Perhaps you’ll take pity on me, as a fine man would pity any beggar.

And here you come, so near.

“Spare a coin for an old woman?” (Is my voice not familiar, are my eyes not like yours?)…but I am brushed aside like street filth. Smut underfoot.

“MOVE ASIDE, Old¬†Mother Time”¬†– a guardsman laughs, “Pray allow the King to continue his progress”.

And so passes my son.

 

 

 

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Stand your ground.

19 Nov