Oisin Kelly Writes

Author: Oisin Kelly

  • Bury Me In The Burren

    Bury me in the burren

    Deep within the bed

    On Limestone pillows

    Where I’ll rest my head

     

    Build a portal dolmen

    Mark my resting place

    Pine Martens singing

    In this empty space

     

    Let the centuries pass

    Cold below the block

    Let my body karst

    Until I am the rock

     

    It will all erode

    Bottom to the top

    Mother nature slows

    Time will never stop

  • Glacial

    A dangerous formation

    Moving toward terminus

    Eroding all before it

    Plucking at its surroundings

    Valleys are left behind

    Carved from the land

    It did not resist

    Reduced to flour

    Finally it melts

    In bodies bigger than itself

    Lands lower than before

    Levels rise forevermore

  • Frank

    ( A Response Piece to James Joyces ‘Eveline’ )

     

    Frank sat by the window, looking out through the frost in the glass. The early morning was still in full bloom as the dew drops glistened on the tufts of grass, that lined the street. He had always risen before sun, ever since his days on the ship. Captain always expected all hands on deck and every man groomed and presentable. So he sat shining his boots, as the crackle of the dying embers in the fire, filled the room. Returning from abroad to see his long forgotten home was something he needed to do before he could begin his new life in Buenos Ayres. The streets were just as he remembered, cobbled, broken and cold! Not like it was when he travelled the world, on the decks of many, many ships. Far off places with hot climates, exotic plants, and wild animals. The many ports and cities had coloured the view in which he seen the world.

     

    Still there was no place quite like home, his real home. There was no space for another in the small flat he had grown up in, so he lodged with an old friend he met upon the seas. His mother, still strong as ever, ruling the roost and making sure the family home was well kept. Many years before, he received a letter from his sister, about his father. A hopeless drunken abuser who had tortured him in his younger years, forcing him to run towards a life on the high seas. One night his father had come home and raided their  belongings, taking his sisters few jewels and expensive things, then he disappeared. Frank had always felt it for the best but he knew it deeply hurt his mother who lost someone she had once loved. It was nice to be among his family once again and share his songs and stories from his travels, his younger sisters had grown into headstrong young women who were not fooled by local drunken scoundrels.

     

    The house was occupied by a few different sailors, all home to see their families but his old friend had been here for many years. A popular man among the locals , often he was visited by many different people. That’s where Frank had met Eveline for the first time, he was outside waiting in the cold for his sister when he seen her. She was a shuffling up towards him, lost in her own thoughts, looking down when she suddenly locked eyes with him and a cute wry smile snook across her face. Some days later he wandered into the kitchen, to find her sitting quietly over a cup of tea, so he asked to join her. She was beautiful, soft spoken and considerate, every word was chosen carefully and wisely. He told her stories about the sea, and about the new life he planned in Buenos Ayres. Whenever Eveline came to the house, he would find himself in the kitchen, sharing stories and finding out about her life. Soon they spent every moment possible together, he would wait for her outside the stores so he could walk her home from work. Even the crisp cold air could not distract him from Eveline or Poppens, as he had come to call her, affectionately.

     

    What he loved most was how simple things he felt with her, he could be himself and she would listen intently. It had not mattered what he gave her whether it was freshly picked flowers or tickets to the theatre, poppens cherished them both as much. All over the world he had met women in different ports and had fleeting, empty relationships, but this was different. Everything he had hoped for in the new life he had planned, he could see clearly now. Eveline was strong minded, soft, hardworking, dutiful, all these things he could see in her. She spoke proudly of her home and fondly of her brothers, although one she had loved so dearly, had long since past. For many years she has held the family home together and contributed everything she had to give. So he felt it was past time she get the life she deserves and he wanted to give it to her, and make her his wife.

     

    One night after walking her to door of her house, he stole a kiss. That was when he had a falling out with her father. He knew his type, just like his own, drunken, controlling, violent and miserable. A small mind and a small world he had lived in, and never left. He knew nothing of the wonders of travel or of the world. For years on the sea, people from different places and different backgrounds had shown him what truly was out there. So when he met this close minded horrible and cantankerous old man he knew they wouldn’t get on. Her father burst from the house and confronted them on the step, hurling insults and incoherent thoughts. Many had commented on ‘ da colour’ on him since his return but he was as Irish as the lot of them. The father was sure that this ‘sailor fella’ was only after Eveline for her virtue and her money, which was needed for the home. So that night they had a falling out over Eveline, which tore her apart and caused a drift between them. When he turned up at the stores the following day, she hurried along and tried to tell him it was best they didn’t see each other, she brushed him off. Day after day he waited outside, if only to walk beside her, even if she didn’t want him. She came around after a week and they began to talk about the future, hope returned, and his dreams felt within reach, once again.

     

    Eveline was talking about running away and starting a new life, but she was afraid, and too loyal to her family. Everyday they spent talking about the sea and travel and Buenos Ayres, he could see her light up. Finally, after many weeks he convinced her to come to Buenos Ayres with him, and leave this misery behind. They had it all planned out and were making arrangements to run away in the night. One early morning he awoke and polished his shoes, he dressed in his best shirt and trousers and pulled on his wool peacoat. As he stepped out into the street he pulled his peak cap down, tucking his chin as he walked towards the morning fog that had filled the air and obscured his view. The bank was just down by the main street and he passed all the early morning workers on his way. The green grocer was unloading a wagon full of fruits and vegetables, the butcher stacked boxes of ice as he waited for the meats to come in from the the farmers. Just before he reached the the end of the road he seen his favourite stall, the fishmonger. Many a morning had he come down and picked from the fresh catch, some of his favourites, for stews and the sailors dinner, as they called it. Something about the taste of fish warmed parts of him like nothing else could, there was nostalgia and familiarity in it, a part of who he was. In the past few weeks he wondered if he shouldn’t settle down, if he should board a trawler or a cruiser in the port and set off on another adventure. Buneos Ayres could wait, it would be there, like it always had been, but he wasn’t going to get any younger. The sea had been good to him, it had made him, moulded him, tempered his soul and taught him many lessons in life. What’s another adventure upon the water, on the deck, as the salty air wets the tip of his tongue, and birds soar above, free among the clouds, kindred spirits upon the winds of the ocean. Yet now, he had another to consider, his love, his flame that flickered and glowed and shone light upon the life he could live, if he only took a chance. Yes, he had given blood, sweat and years to the tides, enough for a lifetime, now it was time for a new life. He hurried along towards the bank just in time for the doors to be unlocked and the teller to see him in. Since he was a young man, before he left home, he had kept what little money he had in an account in the bank, at the suggestion of his mother. Money was to taken out to pay for passage to Buenos Ayres, for him and his beloved. The teller gathered the all the cash he had and closed the account and that was it, no turning back.

     

    Night came quickly and he gathered the last of his things into a little brown case. Travelling light was a habit you picked up fast when you moved from place to place on short notice. Soon he would be settled, in a new home, and have more things than could fit in a hundred cases. The road down to the port was full of people shuffling along, laughing, crying, silent, shrieking. Just beneath the lamplight he spotted Eveline, she was lost in her thoughts, he could tell from all the times he met her outside the stores. They embraced and he ran his hand across her face as he told her how happy he was that they were finally going to be free and be together. He grabbed her hand as he lead her through the crowd , he start to tell her about the ship, about their cabin, what it would be like on the sea, how he would make sure the crew look after them, how he was going to show her everything about ocean and the night sky. Suddenly he felt the weight of her, as he pulled her through the crowd, she resisted and looked pale among the faces that surrounded them. Their hands were clasped together and he called her to ‘come’ as she grabbed upon the railings and pulled away from him. Almost on her knees she let out a cry that cut through the thoughts that swarmed his mind, the crowd was pushing him onward towards the ship.

     

    He focused in on her and called out “Eveline, Evvy” , passing the barrier he called out again, willing her to follow him, to come with him, to be with him.

     

    Her face was washed white and expressionless, the eyes that had once lit the flames inside of him were empty and hopeless, he looked upon the one he loved and knew he had lost her, if he ever really had her at all.

     

    So the sailor was returned the ocean and washed away on the high tide.

  • Me & The Borstal Boy

    THE GRAND CANAL MIDDAY – SUNNY

     

    Enter SEAMUS walking along the canal, at pace. We are following from behind; he is shifting his bag onto the opposite shoulder as he approaches a bench and takes a seat.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Seated, rummaging through his bag)

    Listen, I need to talk to you again, I changed some of the points around, but I just can’t get the story flowing at all.

     

    Seamus pulls a tattered manuscript from his bag and flicks through it, creasing it along the edge. He turns to show it to the statue of Brendan Behan. The statue does not reply.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Sitting back and running his pencil along the pages, occasionally looking up towards the statue)

    Why do you always look at me so interested? I haven’t written an interesting thing in this silly little book since I put the pencil to the paper.                                        I know we talked about pushing through and trusting the process but that’s easy for you to say, isn’t it?

     

    He runs his hands over his face and back through his hair. A swan is leaving the water in front of him as he speaks.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Occasionally biting on his pencil and jotting on a fresh page)

    This bit here ‘Big Troubles in Little Derry.’ Do ya really think they’ll take me seriously? I am all for a bit of humor but                                                                               that’s close to taking the piss. How did you do it, they talk about you like you weren’t half cut most of the time, and                                                                                   laughing at the world. I mean no disrespect, of course, I’m just trying to get it right. Take your man here for instance,                                                                             he’s some fella on the water but he looks a right eejit running along the path with those feet.

     

    CUT TO:

    CANAL BANK

     

    Swan running along the water’s edge towards a pile of crumbs, flapping its wings as it waddles closer. Taking the bread, enters the water and glides away into the distance.

     

    CUT TO:

     

    BENCH

     

    Seamus still seated and fidgeting with his pencil.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Getting animated, occasionally standing, and pacing while he points with his pencil)

    Off he goes there, swanning around, eh? Look, how am I supposed to talk about the political landscape when I                                                                                           wasn’t even there, it’s hardly a biography now is it. There’s something to say about it all, even now, with years                                                                                            gone by, but who am I to tell that story. It just — It keeps me up, thinking about it all and feeling like there                                                                                                were so many voices, silenced or screaming into the void, for no one to hear. I hear them, I see them, they’re                                                                                               real to me.

     

    Seamus, seated now, puts his book on the ground, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket and lighting one up.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Agitated, speaking in broken sentences, aggressively puffing on a cigarette)

    THE BORSTAL BOY. You knew how, to write it, to capture it. It wasn’t about us and them, was it. The                                                                                                         enemy, there’s one, the enemy, just people. What for, who for, people died, what about them. I’m not the                                                                                                     guy, I cant be, how do I begin, how does it end? It never will, it never will.

     

    Seamus looking resigned pulls his pack from his pocket, extinguishing the cigarette and placing it back inside of the packet and into his pocket.

     

    SEAMUS

    (leaning back, hands rested on the back of his head, looking into distance)

    We couldn’t have been romance writers, could we? Although, you weren’t too bad at making this                                                                                                                    place seem like the jewel at the centre of the world. I think the stories we tell, when they’re so full of                                                                                                              truth, are simply unpalatable. So, we soften them with prose, humor, and levity until it becomes less                                                                                                            about fact, and more about feeling right?

     

    Seamus picks up the manuscript and flicks through it making different faces at sections of writing.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Shifting in his seat, showing parts of his writing to Brendan)

    See this, well you’re lucky actually, you never did. There were ideals in your time, a battle against                                                                                                                  the system, the culture, the history. It got nasty when you left, when the voices of reason were                                                                                                                        drowned out by the undying taste for blood. It wasn’t just the enemy anymore, it was their own,                                                                                                                    it was ordinary people, it was anybody, and it was all the time. Bombs, bodies, secrets and blood,                                                                                                                  some would say for nothing.

     

    Seamus folds the manuscript over and takes a picture from the back page to examine it.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Looking at the picture and speaking softly)

    Aunty Eileen, what a woman, you’d have liked her. She’d a fierce sense of humor, the most beautiful                                                                                                             singer and she’d likely to be the first to the fight. This was the summer, the last one, before she                                                                                                                       disappeared. I was only a boy, but I know loved her, cause I feel it, I feel like I did, like I would, ya                                                                                                                 know. Sometimes, I can’t remember a thing about her, I forget her, like everyone else did. I don’t                                                                                                                   want to forget her, I don’t want to lose her, I want to find her.

     

    Seamus puts the picture back in the manuscript and folds a leg over to lean the book on it, and begins to write.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Looking down and speaking as he writes)

    What do you think justice is? Is it about payback, revenge, closure, I don’t know what I want.                                                                                                                          Guess, I just want answers, but I don’t even know the questions, or the person to ask. The thing                                                                                                                      about telling a story with a clear ending is figuring out where it all began, and I’m not so sure I                                                                                                                      know where that is. Maybe — the last time I saw her face, yeah — in the morning before the last                                                                                                                  day of school, before the darkest summer of my life.

     

    Seamus sits for some time writing. Time passes, light changes.

     

    SEAMUS

    (Packing away his things into his bag and beginning to leave)

    Well fella, we did good today, don’t ya think? I know what it’s about now, what I’m about.                                                                                                                                Her, it was always her, it had to be. Thanks for that, you’ve still got it. Now don’t go                                                                                                                                            anywhere will ya, I’ll be back.

     

    Seamus rises, stopping to smile down on Brendan before walking away.

     

     

     

    CUT TO:

     

    REAR OF SEAMUS WALKING AWAY IN EVENING LIGHT

     

    SEAMUS

    (Narrating)

    Chapter 1, Come Home Eileen.

    She stood holding court in the kitchen, in the morning, I remember it was warm, she was warm. I felt safe, I felt loved, I feel like she deserved that too, she still does.

  • The Radiogram

    The boxes were starting to block the hall, piling high. Each with a scribble on the side; books, ornaments, kitchenware, scarves. Moving vans would not arrive until the end of the week, still plenty of time to organise everything. The family had been helping over the last few todays, today it was just James. The motivation had entirely left him, he found himself wandering about the house. Room to room, drinking it all in, reliving memories, of the years, which had seemed to fall away.

    Of course, this wasn’t his home, well not anymore. It still held all its sentimentality, its familiarity, its warmth, even its character. It had been years though, since it was home. He wished the walls would talk, tell him all the stories, from his youth. Both had lived long enough to meet their grandchildren, to watch them grow. He wondered would his own walk the halls of their home one day, thinking of him. The dining room had not been touched since it happened, he stepped inside, sitting down.

    They had always sat in this room, tucked away at the back of the house. She would sit there, battling balls of wool, night after night. Beside her, he would sit reading, book after book, fiction, instructional, biography, it never mattered. They would stop from time to time, to talk, to laugh, to think about the past, talk about their future. In the corner of the room, a radiogram, filling the air. Each night, a new album as they sat silently, but happily, together.

    James would come to see them often, more so as the years had gone on. He wished it had been more, it seemed like he never had time, until it was too late. His father had sat there, many years longer than his mother. James coming to see him, finding the notes of songs slipping into the hallway, his father would be there in this chair, reading. The pile of books alongside, smaller than before. James found him here , just the week before. He seemed to the world to be sleeping, book on his chest, in his favourite place, their favourite place, one last time.

    James rose from the chair and opened the sliding door of the radiogram to find a record. It was dusty from sitting out, untouched. It was an old favourite of theirs ‘Hits from the 60s’. He turned the record on, dusting it as it spun, then slowly lifted the needle onto it. The fuzz filled the room, the anticipation, of the opening notes, of the first song. Then like a gust of air filled the room, it slipped from the speakers. He immediately felt the weight of the song, possibly the last his father ever heard. Returning to the chair, tears began to fall, as he sat in silence. An unmistakable crooning voice began to sing

    “And now, the end is near. I must face the final curtain” 

  • The Waiting Room

    “Take a seat, he will see you shortly”

    She shuffled into the small familiar room. Taking a seat opposite the window, keeping the reception in full view.

    The windows were draughty and always made her cold. Better to sit where she could see the receptionist. If they could see you, they would call you sooner. It was easy to be forgotten in this small room, where thirty minutes is and hour and an hour is a minute.

    Time was relative to your infliction, to the aches or pains. For those who had a cold, flu, or injury, something tangible, visible. Well for them it seemed as if every second was an hour, it seemed to never end, it seemed as this was the end.

    Her lot had it just as hard but just the opposite. If you had the invisible ones, that ate away at your body or your mind. Well then, every hour was a second, time slipped away and they spent it rooms like this, waiting.

    Rooms, filled with despair and plastered with hope. Life & Travel magazines lined the tables, as if to taunt them, why not just stop trying to live. She could take the next flight, and just give up. Six months maybe more, it might be worth it, it might be easier. They always said living was hard.

    The fight was worth it, a woman against the clock, against the unknown, against the invisible. Each visit to this room was the battle against fate, awaiting the final call, the swan song.

    A cheating husband apologized to his dying wife on the tv in the corner. Somehow it made the room feel lighter, the world seemed cruel, but for everyone, not just her.

    “Miss Baker”

    Here she goes, the final walk, all over again.

  • Operation Solar

    The blizzard was at its height as Julie made her way across the frozen lake. Flags flew high in the distance signaling she was near the facility. She tucked herself in and pushed the snowmobile harder to break through the southern winds. As she approached, the gusts of snow began to clear and black smoke invaded the skyline. Julie stopped on the top of the hill and looked down in horror at the facility in flames. She picked up her speed and rushed down into the valley. The far side of the dome seemed less damaged so she drove there to see if she could find an entrance. When she arrived, she found the wall blown out and the light of the labs flooding like the sun out onto the snow.

    Julie made her way into the facility near the containment centre, which was empty. Wires hung from the ceiling, the terminals were destroyed, and the thick glass walls were either cracked or shattered on the floor. She moved down the hall toward the command, and living quarters. As she turned the corner she found the first body, an older technician named Joe, he was slumped over and his head dipped forward. His blood was all over the wall, the back of his skull was opened and exposed. Julie lost her footing, grabbing out for something and slipping forward, she fell into a puddle of blood. As she tried to gain her footing, not looking back, she suddenly noticed the body parts strewn about the corridor. It wasn’t quite clear how many people she was looking at. Arms, torsos, bloodied heads, scattered about. Julie tried to shield her eyes and moved towards the command.

    As she approached the double doors, she spotted a bloodied handprint. The doors had large portholes; one was lying slightly open. On the ground a hand was outstretched, stopping the doors from closing. Julie moved closer to look through the porthole. She came to realize the arm was not attached to anything, a limbless body lay in the center of the command space. The door was stiff and seemed to have been damaged, she struggled to open it and squeeze through. Julie made her way towards the central terminals where she might be able to call for help or thought she might find survivors. This was where they would be, the Command was the centre of the facility and was supposed to be the safest place. It seemed it was utterly destroyed; most terminals were damaged and there were small fires breaking out in corners of the room. As Julie turned into the room, she stood frozen as she looked up at the wall. The Director was impaled and hanging from the large research screens that occupied the entire space. The screens were flickering with footage, broken images and data. Sticking from his chest was the project solar flag, a Vitruvian man surrounded by a sun, in black and yellow detail. Julie could see other bodies and parts of people around the room and tried to focus herself on the task.

    The central terminal was beyond repair and meant she was without any means of communication. In the lower left corner of the wall, a screen was looping security footage from some hours before. Julie made her way toward the playback terminal and found it still functional. She began to search back over the footage to see if she could make sense of this tragedy. There was a power outage in the containment centre, it seems the generator kicked in, that explains the lab lights. Then it seems the security seals failed, and the pressure locks didn’t hold. The experiment, no, it woke up. It seemed to have broken through the glass walls, the security alarms began sounding but Joe was stuck in the lab, the power failed in the door. Once it escaped, it got hold of him, thrashing him against the wall before being set upon by the response team. Julie could not look away as she watched them all ripped apart and beaten to death. The final person was trying to get into the command when it caught him and used his body to burst through the doors before ripping him limb from limb.

    Julie watched as it stalked the director through the terminals, before taking the flagpole and running it through him like skewering meat, sending him flying into the wall. It made quick work of the other technicians and then set about destroying the facility. There were no cameras in the living quarters and Julie could not be sure if there was anyone left. Even worse, she was unsure where it might have gone, was it still here, she start to check the live feeds. Most cameras were down but she could pick up some flickering images. It seemed some of the south complex was still intact, perhaps people were there. The interior images showed nothing and so she began to check the exterior. Most feeds showed the storm or the billowing smoke or just flashes of white. Until she came to the tower above the containment centre, it was there. It was standing over her snowmobile, examining it, and pulling at it. Suddenly it lifted it clean from the ground and flung it into opening that Julie had entered through. The explosion shook the command, and she had briefly ducked beneath the desk during the impact. When she looked back at the screen it was no longer standing there.

    Julie broke from the terminal and ran toward the living quarters. She may be able to make it out through the rear of the food hall and into the southern complex, it may be safe there, it seemed untouched. Each door she came to lead to another new scene of death or destruction. She tried to set her mind to the task at hand but with each familiar face she passed, the fear within her grew. The roof in the food hall was caved in and hung by the suspension ropes that held the dome together. She made her way into the kitchen, the equipment was strewn about and it meant she had to climb and jump over counters and under overturned fridges. Finally, she came to the rear exit, this would take her through the tunnel and into the southern complex. She stopped and turned back into the kitchen collecting a large knife. As she entered the tunnel she noticed that the red emergency strip lights along each side were lit all the way to the southern complex. She walked down the tunnel and looked toward the large steel doors that led into the complex. There were two large yellow lights turning and flashing towards her as she came up to the door. Julie reached the steel doors, and the large security lock was engaged, maybe this was a good sign. She pulled her security badge from beneath her layers and scanned it on the keypad. A large beeping sounding filled the tunnel as the lock released and the doors opened into the complex.

    Julie stepped inside and noticed the electricity was still on and through the door she noticed a small fire, it seemed to be intentional. Her hands reached for the door, and she entered the room. At first, she could not make out the pile in front of her but it suddenly hit her, bodies. In the corner a stack of heads, their lifeless eyes looking deep into her own. The fire in the corner had bones sticking from it and Julie turned quickly, to leave the room. When she got back to the tunnel she looked down into the abyss. It was standing in the glow of the red lights looking down, and moving slowly toward her. Julie panicked and fell, crawling backwards on her hands, she had dropped the knife in her shock and was too far from it now. As it grew closer, she suddenly noticed the emergency button and rose from the ground, pressing it repeatedly, in a panic. The large steel doors began to close, and the beeping rang out once again, now it was picking up pace. The doors just shut as it reached them, and the security seal was closing but she could hear it pulling the large metal bars back into place. She made her way back into the room, and looked for another exit.

    The southern complex was where they kept the gas reserve to run the main labs, so it was set into the ground. It seemed as if it had made a type of lair here and must have been intending to settle in. Julie ran toward the rear of the room and looked for the emergency exit plans. There was a maintenance hatch that led up to the bottom of the south hill. She was considering her options when she heard the metal of the doors bending and cracking, followed by loud thuds, it was not going to hold. Julie looked around the room and thought her best chance was to make it to the outreach centre, across the frozen lake. There was still power in the computers, and Julie began to override the controls. There were loud warning sirens filling the space and a countdown was showing on the main screen by the tanks. Julie ran to the steel ladder leading up into a tube all the way to the surface, and climbed. Her body ached with each step she made towards the hatch, meters above. The sound of the door being pulled open echoed up the tube. It was in the room, then it was down below. She looked down, as it spread its arms and began to pull itself up the tube. Julie was nearly at the hatch now, and fumbling in her pocket as she rose. Julie swung open the hatch and burst out into the snow. Not taking a breath, she was over the hatch again, watching it climb. She pulled a remote from her pocket and pressed it, releasing the gas into the room. It ignited and filled the tube, engulfing everything as Julie closed the hatch over, and ran up the hill for safety.

    She watched from the hilltop as the ground around the hatch crumbled. The southern complex collapsed in on itself and she stood looking over the ruins of the facility, trying to make sense of how it had all happened. The southern hill lead down to the frozen lake so she set out towards it. If she crossed the frozen lake, she could make it to the outreach centre and contact the relief team. Each step she took cracked into the ice with intention. The studs of her boots holding her in place as the wind whipped up. She tried to set the thoughts of all her friends out of her mind. The bloodied bodies, the lifeless eyes, the limbs, it was more than she could bear. They had studied the experiment for months, getting to know its biology, movements, behaviors. It was the common consensus that proceeding was unwise. They had all agreed not to thaw out the others, all except the director. He was adamant that Operation Solar must continue, that understanding the experiment may change the world forever. The day Julie had set out for the supply run and to share the data with the relief team, the facility was winding down and they were discussing termination options. She had wondered now what had really happened and was it less divine intervention than blind sabotage.

     

    The frozen lake was an unforgiving landscape, and all Julie could think about was making it to safety. It had been hours since, and if it had followed, she had not noticed. Surely the flames would have destroyed it for good, she had hoped. The outreach centre had supplies for about a month if she needed, and it was set into the ground with thick steel walls on all sides. The hatch was the most secure she had ever seen. No storm or blizzard had ever come close to bothering her in the outreach centre. She was certain she would be safe there until help arrived. All she had to do was make it, and she may just survive. All that ran through her mind, was just how much of a miracle it was, that she had survived. The others had been torn, broken and pulled apart, here she was still standing, moving toward freedom, away from this waking nightmare. The flags of the outreach centre flapped in the wind upon the ridge and Julie felt hope rise in her. She dipped her head, forcing her way forward. Soon she was nearly upon the base of the path. Julie stopped in her tracks and looked into the distance, there it was, the man from the ice.

     

    He stood at the base of the hill staring at her, unlike anything she had ever seen. When they first discovered them, she been filled with fear. Large monstrous figures, muscular, chiseled, towering above them, frozen within the ice. Their eyes had haunted her dreams at the beginning, green with no whites always open, day and night. Now those eyes were looking at her across the lake. Julie had only ever observed him in unconscious states and now that she was looking upon him in the flesh she wondered if he was even of this world. His upper torso was as wide as it was tall, his enormous hands were spread, he held them in front as he approached her. Julie had not moved and now she was running questions in her mind with no answers. As he approached, her eye caught the ridge and she spotted them, the others, it can’t be. She cast her eyes back to him and realized it was not their man, it was another, but how. Then from behind her she heard the ice cracking. Julie turned to the thunderous sound of his feet approaching her. His body was blackened and burnt and his piercing green eyes locked with hers and she knew it was over.

  • I Love You Dad

    Jake was standing in the aisle staring at a shelf, with lots of toys on it. He really liked cars and trucks, but he was looking at a toy set with some little teddy bears having a picnic. It would be his birthday in a few days, his dad had told him. He really hoped he would get some new things to play with.

    “Jake, come on, let’s go”

    He ran to the end of the aisle, his dad was waiting with a shopping bag and his hand outstretched. They walked towards the door hand in hand, as his dad pulled him close and looked on with a gentle smile. Jake was lightly skipping when he saw the noticeboard in the window. It had posters and ads all over it, including one for a bouncy castle. Jake had never been on a bouncy castle, he had only ever seen them in the front yards of his neighborhood. He stopped in his tracks and scanned the board and all it’s posters. His squeezed his hand and lightly nudged him forward.

    “Can I have a bouncy castle for my birthday, please, please dad?”

    “I don’t think so, your birthday is only a few days away, I’m not sure we could organize it in time. I think it would too big for just the both of us anyway”

    “I’ve always wanted to go on one, they look so fun, I seen the other kids jumping and jumping”

    “I know, I know, maybe another time”

    Suddenly he pointed to a poster at the top of the board, it was slightly obscured by other papers, but the picture was clear.

    “Hey dad, that picture looks like me! It’s a funny looking drawing”

    “I don’t really see it son, come on, let’s go”

    They left the store and began to walk down the main street. Jake always held his dad’s hand in public and stayed close by, just as he was told. His favorite game was jumping over the cracks in the pavement and trying not to stand on them. Usually, his dad would let him do this on the way to the store but on the way back Jake would help to carry the groceries. He liked to carry the milk, he would swing it back and forth as he walked, sometimes pretending it was a rocket ship, flying them home. Jake had a great imagination and would often make up his own games and characters in stories. He would look at people that they passed and give them funny names like ‘Big Beard Mc Rucksack’ or ‘Old Blondey Hat’, when he got home, he would name his dolls after them and play with them.

    It was the middle of the afternoon, they always went shopping at that time. The autumn leaves were in full bloom, the trees that lined the street were washed in yellows, reds and oranges. Jake would step on leaves and hope they had dried, then they would crunch beneath his feet, and he would stomp on to the next one. They had passed all the stores and were nearly at the end of the street. Jake loved this part; they were going to pass the school soon. He would look in at all the children laughing and playing, wondering what the games were. Sometimes he would think about some kids he saw, and they would be in his stories, and he would name the dolls after them.

    “Dad, when am I going to be big enough to go to school”

    “Well, you have school at home, remember, I can teach you everything”

    “I know daddy, but there’s no other kids in our school, who am I going to play with”

    “I’ll play with you, we can play picnic and play crash cars, don’t you like playing with me?”

    “I do, I do, just sometimes… sometimes I want to play with other kids… kids like me”

    “Okay, maybe in the summer, we can go to the park and find some other kids, maybe”

    His dad gripped his hand firmly as they came up to the traffic lights. They crossed over the road and made their way towards a wide-open field that cut across the backs of the houses, and towards their own. Jake, when he behaved, was allowed to run in this field and his dad decided he could today. He handed his dad back the milk, and he put it into the bag. Then he took off, throwing his hands out and zig zagging through the long blades of grass. He imagined he was as fast as wind and light as a feather. His dad didn’t let him play like this often, so when he gave him some freedom Jake would make the most of it, running, jumping and skipping through the grass. As they came close to the other end of the field, his dad just outstretched his hand, and Jake returned to his side.

    Their house was at the end of a street lined with homes on either side. It stood alone, separated from the others and sat on the curve at the end of the road. It was detached on all sides and had a garage at the rear that backed into the field. It had high walls but, in the front, a spiked picketed fence with a locked gate. They entered through the back into the kitchen, and his dad began to put the groceries away.

    “Jake, go and get your books out, I’ll be in there in a minute”

    “MORE class! but I thought I could play”

    “We didn’t finish our lesson this morning, I’ll have work to do today, so you can play after, get your books”

    He left the kitchen and dragged himself across the sitting room. He had really wanted to play outside with his dolls. He grabbed some books from the coffee table and set them on the old desk underneath the window. There was a lamp, a box of pens and an abacus on the desk. He walked over and turned on the lamp, illuminating the space, the curtains always stayed closed. His dad had said that people look into other people’s houses through their windows, because they were nosy. He didn’t want them seeing inside their house, so they never opened the curtains and always used lamps. The house was very dark all the time, that’s why Jake liked play time. He would swing open the door and run out into the yard with his dolls. It didn’t matter if it was cold or even raining, if dad said yes then Jake would go outside, whenever he could.

    His dad entered the room and made his way over to a large chair that sat facing the desk. He would often sit behind Jake or stand over him during their lessons.

    “Sums or reading, I will let you choose what we do first”

    “Can I read my stories?”

    “No Jake, I have told you, stories are not for learning, stories are for fun. You need to learn more about reading and writing”

    “Do we have to do sums”

    “Stop avoiding the work, choose now, or I will choose for you, come on”

    “Okay, I’ll do the writing”

    “Wonderful, let’s do the one we did yesterday”

    “The one about the fox and the dog playing in the woods with the fairies, and the other kids”

    “Jake, lets focus, that wasn’t it”

    “Wouldn’t that be fun though, playing with a fox and a dog, I’d like to get a dog to play with.

    “Please don’t make me get impatient, pick up your pen and start writing.

    Jake had shifted around toward his dad but now was facing the window with his pen in his hand. He began to trace the words out along the page, again and again. Each time carefully drawing every letter slowly and precisely. He filled every line until he reached the bottom of the page and could not write any further.

    “I’m done writing, I filled the WHOLE page”

    “Okay then, read it to me”

    “The q… qui.. quick b, b, br…brown FOX j,jumped over the la, la, lazy DOG

    “Read it again, but don’t stutter on the words, read it slowly”

    Jake sighed and re-adjusted himself in the chair, focusing in on the words. He knew his favorite words because they were dog and fox, but the others were just boring.

    “The… quick…brown… FOX jumped… over the…. lazy…DOG!”

    “Very good, now why are we writing this down?”

    “For practice”

    “Yes, but why this sentence”

    “Oh, cause it has lots of letters!”

    “Close, but more importantly, it has all the letters of the alphabet. So, you can practice writing each and every one, let’s move onto sums now.”

    Jake slowly packed away his writing book and put his pen back into the box in front of him and started pulling the abacus closer. It was a large wooden abacus with metal rings on it, there were ten rows down and thirty rings on each row. His dad had told him that he made this abacus specially for him. Jake used to love the abacus, running the beads from side to side, making shapes and designs with it. Ever since they started doing sums, he didn’t have any fun with the abacus, it was boring, and all he could do was think of playing outside, with his dolls.

    “Can we skip sums today, please”

    “No Jake, come on, just a little more time”

    “Its boring, I want to play, I don’t like counting”

    “The things we find the hardest are the things we should work on the most, just a little longer”

    “Okay, then I can play outside”

    “Well, if you get this sum all right, then I will let you play outside for thirty minutes”

    “Yay, okay, one sum”

    “I want you to move three beads across on the first row and all the beads across on the last row, then fill in the rows in between with times tables”

    Jake was more focused than ever, he had done this everyday this week, he didn’t like it, but he really wanted to go outside and play. He wasn’t good at counting or sums, but he was good at drawing and painting pictures. He remembered from the day before how the abacus was supposed to look and he started moving over rings, shifting them back and forth until he was happy. He sat back and looked over his shoulder at his dad, who was staring at him the entire time.

    “Are you done?”

    “I think so, yes, I am”

    “Say the numbers for me, on each row and we can finish for the day”

    Jake looked at the beads and thought about the numbers from the day before, he couldn’t remember them. So, he went row by row counting the bead as he slid it across, then proclaiming the final number. His father watched patiently as Jake took his time carefully completing the task. Finally, he came to the second last row and moved the final bead into place.

    “27! Am I right, is it playtime, is it?”

    “You were right, but I know you were counting the beads. That’s not how these sums are done, so tomorrow, we will do double sums”

    “DOUBLE SUMS”

    “Yes, now you can have thirty minutes outside, but I want you inside for dinner straight after”

    Jake rose excitedly from the desk, leaving everything behind. He ran out into the hallway where there was an open wooden box full of different dolls and doll clothing. There was a picnic blanket rolled in a ball by the front door, so he grabbed it. Jake began to undo the locks on the door, there were quite a few. His dad had said this kept them safe. He burst out onto the front lawn, it was patchy and mostly unkept, but he lay down the blanket and began lining up his dolls.

    Beardy Mc Rucksack and Old Blondey Hat were getting ready to go to a new school and Jake was going to go with them. This is the game he was playing and had imagined that he would go to school with his two new friends, where he would play all the new games, and meet all the other kids. Usually, Jake would like to imagine he had a dog too and his new friends were going to come by after school to meet him.

    “Hello there” a call came from down by the fence

    Jake looked around to see a familiar face, he had seen him just a few days before for the first time, then again, a few more times. He had named a doll after him, ‘Mr Greencoat’. He got up from the blanket and walked towards him. This stranger wore a green military coat and looked disheveled, his light hair was greasy and unkept, it seemed as though he had not washed for some time too.

    “Hello” Jake said as he approached the fence

    “Hey Kid, what’s your name”

    “My names Jake!”

    “What are you up to over there Jake”

    “I’m playing games with my dolls; we’re going to go to school”

    “School? Don’t you already go to school, why not go somewhere more fun”

    “I wish I went to school; it would be so fun. I have school with my dad at home.”

    The stranger leaned forward and began to prop himself over the fence, closer to Jake.

    “How old are you Jake”

    “Dad says I’ll be seven in a few days, and he says we’re going to have cake and he’s going to get me some new toys!

    “Seven! How exciting, are you going to have a party?”

    “Its just me and my dad, two people can’t have a party”

    “You look a little older than seven Jake, you’re a big boy”

    “I’m getting taller and taller; I can nearly reach the sky”

    “Just you and your daddy here, no one else?”

    “No, just me and my dad, he’s my friend too, and we play games and read stories, but I would like to have more friends”

    “Maybe I could be your friend, we could go somewhere fun like down to the school, would you like that?”

    “I’d love to go to the school! I named my doll after you Mr Greencoat, you were the bus driver for the school”

    “I could take you there sometime”

    Jakes dad came rushing from the house screaming at him.

    “JAKE! Get over here”

    Jake jumped and was filled with a sudden panic, as he looked back towards his dad. He turned and gave a small, scared wave to Mr Greencoat and then ran back up the garden towards his dad.

    “Get in the house right away and go to your room” Jakes dad said as he grabbed the doll from Jakes hand

    The stranger stood gripping the tops of the fence and staring at Jakes dad. A serious look had washed over his face, and he was trying to hold his tongue, as he watched Jake scamper inside.

    Jakes dad turned his attention to the stranger. Pushing back his shoulders and adjusting himself, he walked calmly towards the fence.

    “Do you mind telling me what exactly you were saying to my son”

    The stranger folded his arms and relaxed himself onto the tips of the picket fence, looking up at Jakes dad towering over him.

    “Hello to you to sir. I was just asking the kid if he knew where the closest store was”

    “Why would a child have directions to a store, seems silly, if you ask me”

    “Kids are smarter than you think, they pick up on all sorts of things. We were just talking, nothing wrong with talking is there?

    “Nothing wrong with talking, but I’d rather you weren’t talking to my son, telling him stories”

    “Oh sir, I told him no stories, and I told him no lies. You can lie to a kid, sure, but when they hear the truth, they’ll know it’s the real thing”

    “Well, my kid doesn’t need to hear your truths, so why don’t you go tell someone else and leave him alone”

    “Okay then, have a good day and tell Jake it was nice talking to him”

    “You have a good day too but just so you know. Next time you talk to my son, we won’t be just talking.”

    Jakes dad turned and walked back towards the house, collecting the blanket and toys along the way. He entered the house and furiously threw them onto the ground in the hallway. He turned to close the door, and the stranger was still there staring at him and leaning over the fence. The stranger lingered a little longer before slowly straightening up and walking away towards the main road.

    Jakes’ dad made his way into Jakes’ room where he found him in his bed crying softly. He sat on the edge of Jakes bed and held his head in his hands for a moment before taking a big sigh and focusing in on Jake

    “What were you thinking Jake, what were you thinking. You don’t know that man, WE don’t know that man, why would you talk to him. I have told you many times before, many many times, don’t talk to strangers. You don’t know what people want Jake, people are the worst, they are sneaky, dangerous, scary, liars. People smile in your face and then they hurt you, and you never see it coming Jake. You don’t need people son, you got me, you don’t need anybody else. I am here to protect you, but you have got to, got to promise not to talk to anyone that we don’t know. I am just trying to keep you safe, but I can’t do that if you don’t do everything, I tell you. Do you understand?”

    Jake looked up, tears streaming down his face and nodded while burying his head into his dad’s chest and squeezing him tightly. They sat there for a few minutes until Jake was not crying anymore.

    “I’m sorry dad, I love you”

    “I love you too son, I love you too”

    Jakes dad stayed to read Jake a bedtime story before turning out the lights and leaving him to rest up.

    The next day was Jakes birthday and when he woke up he smelled pancakes. He rushed out of bed and into the kitchen where his dad had already piled high four pancakes and was still making more.

    “Good morning birthday boy, would you like some pancakes?”

    “Yes, Yes, Yes, I love pancakes”

    Jake jumped up at the table and immediately started pouring maple syrup from a jug in the center of the table. His dad finished making another four pancakes and turned off the heat. He pulled out a chair at the table and sat down opposite Jake.

    “I am sorry I got angry yesterday, Jake, I was just scared of losing you. It’s your birthday today so I have decided to skip our class this morning. I was thinking you could play outside, close to the house, for a little bit. Then later we can walk to the store and pick out a new toy, and a nice cake, what do you think?”

     

    “I’m not going to get lost; I was just outside! Can we get ice cream too, please, please?”

    “Yeah okay, we can get ice cream too, it is your birthday”

    When Jake finished his pancakes, he immediately ran to his room to change into his clothes. When he came back out his dad was in the hall gathering up the dolls and the blanket from the corner, where they had ended up the day before. His dad undone the locks on the door and opened it wide, walking only a few steps out before putting the blanket down and placing the dolls on it. Jake came out of the house and began to rearrange and examine his dolls that had been treated so badly by his dad. His dad went back inside and returned with a deck chair, setting it up, just outside the front door. He sat down into it with his morning coffee, watching Jake as he played, and scanning the neighborhood.

    Around an hour passed when Jakes dad began to get restless, he decided Jake would be okay if he went into the garage to work on one of his projects.

    “Jake, I am going to go inside, remember what we spoke about yesterday. If anyone comes near the garden just come straight inside and close the door. Do you promise?”

    “I promise dad, no strangers.”

    Their house was on the end of the street, and it was surrounded by large trees and overgrown bushes. Shortly after Jakes dad went inside, the stranger emerged from the tree line, creeping low, in line with the picket fence. He watched Jake as he played and overheard him naming new characters and planning adventures, he smiled to himself, as he moved closer. In a sudden rush, the stranger ran up the side of the fence and jumped over it in one clean movement. He ran quickly up to Jake, grabbed his arm, and put a finger to his lip.

    “Jake, it’s me, remember me. I need you to be very quiet and listen to me, it’s going to be okay, I promise”

    Jake reeled back and pulled away, but the stranger tightened his grip, pulling Jake closer and looking back into the house in a panic.

    “Listen Jake, I came to help you, to take you on adventures, you need to come with me, it will be okay”

    “NO NO NO, you’re a stranger, let me go, let me go, my dad will be angry”

    “I’m not a stranger, I’m not, it’s very complicated Jake, you need to trust me, I’m here to help you”

    “I don’t trust strangers, I don’t trust anyone, only my dad!”

    “You can’t trust him, you can’t, he hasn’t been telling you the truth.

    “He has, he has, let me go, let me go, LET ME GO”

    “Jake, the truth is, I am your dad. I have been looking for you a very long time and I have come to rescue you. This man took you from me and your mom a long time ago, your name was Kyle then. We have looked everywhere for you, and finally I have found you, and we can go home, and I can keep you safe”

    “NO no, no, you’re not my dad, you’re a stranger, let me go, let me go. DAD! DAD! DAD!

    “We need to go, come on, we need to.

    Jake pulled and pulled but the stranger had run his hand under Jakes arms and lifted him up. He was dragging him down the garden and towards the tree line. Jake struggled in his arms and tried to break free.

    “Kyle… Jake… it’s going to be okay. Once we’re safe I will explain everything, and we can go on those adventures.

    They were near the fence when Jakes dad came running from the house holding a large steel pipe. The stranger looked at him and panicked, he was struggling with Jake and would not be able to defend himself. It was fight or flight and so he dropped Jake and immediately pulled a gun from his waistband and aimed it directly at Jakes dad. Jake ran straight for his dad, who had stopped right in his tracks, and was standing as still as possible.

    “Not another step, you bastard!” screamed the stranger

    “Please, my son, let him go, you don’t need to hurt him” Jakes dad said calmly

    “Your son! Your son! He is my son!”

    “You got the wrong kid, it’s okay, it’s okay, this doesn’t have to happen”

    The stranger looked directly at Jake.

    “Jake, this man is not your dad, I am your dad, you need to come with me, come on”

    Jake buried his head between his dad’s legs and squeezed onto him as tight as he could. His dad pat him on the head and looked down at him before returning his attention to the stranger.

    “You’re scaring my kid, can’t we all just relax and sort this out peacefully”

    “Stop calling him your kid! You stole him from us six years ago, and here you are raising him as if he is your own. Well, he is not yours, he is my son, and your little fantasy is over, he’s going to come with me.”

    “You got the wrong idea, he’s my son, and we’ve been living here since he was born, he can’t be yours, he’s mine”

    “Its taken me all this time to find you, but I did, the house, the secret garage, the closed curtains, it’s you, I know its you. They might have given up, but I never did, I never will. I’m here for my son, for Kyle or Jake, it doesn’t matter. I’m here because I love him and because I’m his dad.”

     

    Jakes dad took a deep breath and looked down at him for a few moments. When he looked back at the stranger, an empty and determined stare had come onto his face.

    “You may be his dad, maybe but I am the one he loves. I am NOT losing this kid, not in this lifetime, so I guess you’re going to have to shoot me.”

    Jake turned to face the stranger and threw his hands wide and high to protect his dad.

    “YOU CAN’T! Not my dad, I love him, I love him, please don’t hurt him!”

    The stranger just stared at jake as he put himself between them and pleaded, and pleaded with him

    “He is my dad, and I want to stay here with him. I want to do my classes with him, even the sums. I want to play with him and have him read me bedtime stories, and make me pancakes. We aren’t hurting anyone Mr. Stranger, why are you trying to hurt us, please leave us alone!”

    The stranger stood staring at his son, as he pleaded for the life of his kidnapper. All the truths he so desperately wanted him to see were lost in the innocence of childhood. The truth was what he had seen and nothing this stranger merely told him about. He had thought simply revealing the facts to this child would win him to his side, but it seemed to draw him closer to the villain. In his eyes he saw nothing but fear and desperation, not the love he had always wanted to see in the eyes of his own child. He would deliver him from the clutches of this maniac but even now, in the heat of this moment, he had wondered. Will this child ever love me as he as loved his captor, will he hold me so tight, and defend me so dearly. Perhaps he had been better off lost forever, so that the stranger may have never faced this reality. A world in which he removed the rose-colored glasses from his own child and revealed to him the dark twisted things that surrounded him on all sides. Where he must play the role of the stranger and the father.

  • Going All In

    DISCLAIMER; Written to explore a genre but does contain Sexual references. 

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    Jane took her coffee from the counter, searching for a seat. She sat in a quiet corner by the window, and started to set up her laptop. Her mind had been racing all morning, thinking about the night before. Matt had come home from a night out with his friends. He had been drinking, and was a lot more friendly than usual. She was feeling good, so she went along with, and they end up under the covers. Matt was always quite a considerate lover; soft and gentle. Last night, it was different, when it was all finished her heart was racing, her legs were weak and couldn’t breathe. Jane had been with a few different guys in her time, the usual amount, nothing excessive. The experiences varied but she had her fair share of intense highs. This was different and she sat searching for the reasons. The more she thought about it the hotter she felt, she could almost relive the intensity. The back of her neck was heating up and she could feel a tingle along her spine, like goosebumps. Jane suddenly re-focused and realized what was happening to her with every thought. She closed her legs and straightened herself up to put her attention back into the work she needed to do.

    After a few hours of working in the cafe, she decided to wander home for lunch. Matt would be out of bed by then, she hoped. He worked night shifts for a tech support company and would usually sleep late into the afternoon. He was a sweet soul and the first guy she had ever felt safe with. Some might say he was on the more reserved, introverted side but he was kind, soft and quite handsome. He would keep fit and was in great shape, but he never went on about it. Jane had been with some real characters before Matt. All kinds of goofy, serious, intense and good-looking guys, none of them made her feel like he did. The thing she loved was the balance, he could make her laugh, reflect, think or cry and he was serious about life and his ambitions. She had dealt with jealousy and cheaters before, but he was someone she just felt she could trust, never questioned him on anything he did, or anyone he went out to see. It helped that Matts hobbies were mostly gaming and playing board games, but she didn’t mind, it kept her at ease.

    When she got in the door, he was in the kitchen making breakfast. He looked well, considering how he was the night before. He was standing in his underwear, slice of toast sticking out of his mouth, trying to plunge his coffee. Jane stood looking at him and smiling on

    “Need a hand with that honey”

    She entered the kitchen and took the plunger in her hand forcing the coffee down through the water. Matt wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her close into his chest. She snuggled in for a moment and then broke free to put her bag in the sitting room. He followed her through, dropping down into the sofa and spreading himself wide. Jane was looking at him with a newfound scrutiny, she found herself asking what it was. What had changed between last night and today. There had to be something different about him and yet there he was, in his underwear, the same as every other day.

    She scanned every inch of him, looking for a spark, a feeling that had not existed before, but there was none. She felt something, a heat, a curiosity, a desire. The need to know, if they went again today would it feel as it did.

    She pushed the thoughts out of her mind and went to do some things around the house. There was a load of washing to be done and the bed was not going to make itself. Matt had come up to get showered and she listened as he sang in the shower, some TV theme song from the 80s. She never got any of his references, but she had always found it endearing that he tried to include her in his interests. Matt came from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and still dripping from his shower.

    “Hey… sorry if I was.. a bit much last night”

    She was slowly folding the fresh pillowcases, and laying them on the bed.

    “A bit much, hmmm, is that what you call it”

    “You know once the shots were flowing, I knew it might have gotten a bit far”

    She opened the drawer for him so he could get at his t-shirts.

    “Well, I think I can forgive you, seeing as you were so nice to me when you got home”

    Matt was putting his socks on and looking down at his shoes

    “Yeah, I think I remember that being quite nice too”

    Jane was still looking at him and trying to figure out what it was, this intense feeling that she needed to re-live, she could not get it out of her mind. Matt walked over to her and placed his hand around the back of her neck, grasping it, pulling her in. As they kissed, he pulled her tighter into it, squeezing gently, his finger running up behind her ear. The heat was rising in her again and she could feel a tightness in her lower back. His head tilted into the kiss as his other hand wrapped the outside of her waist, thrusting it towards his own. As sudden as he had kissed, he had pulled her back out of it all, leaving her with a gentle kiss on the very tip of lips.

    “I love you, I’ll call you on my break”

    He gathered his things from the bed and left the room. For a moment Jane just went back to folding clothes, but she had to sit down. There was a sensation in her legs, a tingle in her back, a heat up high in her chest. Her heart was beating with such intensity she could feel it at the base of her neck. What was it, that kiss, it was different than usual, it was more raw. Matt was always a light kisser, nothing too involved. As she thought on what it really was, she began to pick up on what she was reacting too. The grip, around her neck, the pull towards him, locked into this kiss, and when it was already close, he pulled her further in, and doubled his efforts. He kissed her with a fire and intensity of someone about to be sent to death, like it was his last kiss, and she was the lucky one. Even more, it didn’t feel like he wanted her, it felt like he needed her. If he had asked at that moment she’d have said yes, to anything, to everything, to that. Then like a final blow, ‘I love you’, and she feels the floodgates opening.

    Matt had never been quite so intense and she spent the evening thinking about why it had made such an impression on her. Jane had dated some pretty bad guys and tried a few things. One of her old flames was particularly into rope and paddle play, it was a phase. She knew what her kinks were, mostly from experimentation but last night wasn’t anything new. Generally her favorite was being on top, looking down on them, controlling the pace, controlling her own pleasure, and theirs too. She could slip gently into that position starting close to them before moving upright and freeing herself into it,  until she finished. Matt never had any problem with that, they switched up from time to time but mostly he would let her lead the dance.  She was always in the bedroom and very experienced. She never had any problem getting what she wanted.

    Jane was catching up on some reading and decided to relax and reset before bed. She lit some candles in the bathroom and began to run the bath. Waving her hand through the water as the temperature rose, until it was boiling. She slipped off her pyjamas dipping a leg into the water. The heat was all that she could feel, as she stepped in. Slowly she lowered herself into the water anticipating the point it reached her lower body. She took a deep breath and then send her shoulders back until she was submerged. Then bursting from the water she put her head back over the bath, spreading her knees wide and high and positioning her chest just above the water. Her hands ran through her hair until it hung over the side. Then she took some slow deep breathes, as her right hand ran over her chest, stopping at her breast where she gently teased at her nipple. Her other hand ran slowly up and down her left leg, one finger outstretched until she finally allowed it to rest down below. She sent her thoughts to the night before and replayed it in her mind while she tried to re-capture the pleasure.

    Matt had come in the door and she had been curled up on the sofa with her book. He was singing loudly and went straight to the kitchen to get a snack. She saw him stumbling a bit and he was a little well on. She called him from the sofa.

    “Don’t eat my snacks, get your own”

    He turned and threw his head out through the door.

    “You’re awake!”

    She got off the sofa and walked into the kitchen to see what he was doing

    “Did you have a good night, how are the guys doing”

    Matt was going through the fridge looking for something, but just kept taking things out and putting them back in. He slammed the door shut and turned back to Jane.

    “WOW, you are fucking gorgeous, fuck”

    Jane was stood in her black lace nightie, it had been warm in the house so she had wanted to feel a little lighter and free while she read her book.

    “I guess you did have a good night then”

    Matt pulled her arm and start to spin her, dancing in the kitchen, then he wrapped his other arm around her waist pulling her in close, kissing her. He ran his hands right down either side of her ass cheeks and squeezed them both. Then in one move he lifted her up onto the kitchen island, the cold stone shocked her but now his hands were on the outside of her thighs, setting into position. She was pulling in and out of the kiss trying to get his attention but each time he would squeeze tighter and lean into the kiss more. She pulled away for a moment.

    “Hey, hey, slow down a little there”

    Matt put one hand on the inside of her thigh and the other gripped around the back of her neck.

    “Shh, shh, let me, let me”

    While he was kissing her, he moved her thong out of the way. His hand was at the front of her neck now and he thrust her backwards onto the counter. Then he kissed her neck then playfully bit at her breasts before going straight down on her. It was sudden, his head was buried between her legs and she could feel the intention in every kiss, every lick, every nip he made. She felt like she was being ravaged in the kitchen, closing her eyes and letting it happen. From time to time he would pull at her legs or her hips as if to get deeper, to get closer, to eat her whole. Her chest rose and fell faster and faster, she put her hand on his head pushing him further, holding him there, just a bit longer, just a bit. When her chest fell for the last time and her legs tightened under the release he stopped. Suddenly Matt was pulling her from the counter and putting her over his shoulder.

    “Lets go, I’m not done”

    She laughing as they made their way into the bedroom. He threw her down on the bed and began to take his trousers off. She start to sit up and adjust herself.

    “I guess I’ll go on top and repay you for that”

    Matt pushed her back down into the bed, pulling up her nightie

    “No, let me, let me”

    He entered her and she gasped. Her hands immediately reached up and around his neck. Matt was pushing deep and slow and then he would pick up his pace from time to time. Jane felt like it was all happening to her, like she was just supposed to lay there and let it. She did, and occasionally she would grind her hips in the opposite direction. The feeling had started on the kitchen island but here it was now growing with every stroke. Matts hand was around her neck again, at the back, gripping and using it to force her body down into his. Her body was tightening, her legs shivering and the heat was growing in her chest, tingles racing up and down her spine. She wrapped her legs around his lower back, and he leaned in closer to her

    “I fucking love you, I fucking love you so much, so much, so much”

    She tried to reply but by now she was almost breathless, and her chest was rising and falling, her heart was racing, and she dug her hands into his back. The release was full body shivers and her legs swung from his back as they shook on the bed. He rolled off of her and they lay side by side. Her breaths were fast, and she could not catch them, there were no thoughts in her head and she felt like cloud, the finish had been so exhilarating she could not even begin to describe how she felt.

    Back in the bath Jane was feverishly stroking herself, repeating again and again

    “I fucking love you, I fucking love you, I fucking love you”

    She rose up out of the water and dropped back in with a massive exhale, as she finished. Placing her hands on the sides of the bath to re-centre herself she start to think about Matt again. Finally she knew what was different, the control and the need. He had come at her lusting for her body, in a way that no one had before, least of all him. With each squeeze, each grip, each thrust he was taking her, making her his and his only. She had been controlled before, tied up, even slapped around. This time matt had done it because of some primal urge to own her. Not because a man takes a woman, and the woman takes it. It was because Matt loved her, she knew he did, in that moment he wanted to consume all of her, to own her, he needed her. Jane had given herself to men before but when he whispered in her ear. When she knew he needed more than just the feel of her skin, the warmth of her body, he needed her entirely. She gave herself to him, and she never felt so good in her entire life.

  • August 24th

    The day we lost Pompeii to vesuvius – a culture wiped from the earth

     

         While Charlotte Bronte penned  final words to manuscript giving literature fresh Eyre.

     

       Edison had his eye set on moving times – pictures flowing one after the other

     

       Earhart in unstoppable motion managed to be untethered from the earth and cross the oceans.

     

       Franklin D told the FBI to round up commis and fascists – spreading fear and control to the masses

     

      Eisenhower had no picnic either – thought he’d find them in the cinema or the theatre

     

       The first time we saw the moving window that haunted Bill Gates dreams – an opening sound, iconic now it seems

     

       Hawking discovers new theorys – Zuckerberg celebrates the flow of 1 billion masses – another milestone passes

     

       And I on this day of great history  fall fate to this aging mystery with celebrations of birth and another successful 365 days on this earth.

     

     Here is to all on the journey, forever making memories