There are times when life is simply too hectic and overwhelming to notice anything that goes on around you; then there are those sunny lazy autumn days, when sensory memory takes over, distant moments flashing through your mind….
“You know, I don’t remember much from back when I was her age… strange…”
The woman in front of me was going on and on about her 14 year old daughter and how she hoped the girl’s adolescence wouldn’t be too wild or troubled.
I can still remember the noise so well. There’s a specific noise a human body makes by bumping into an old door, when late at night it tries to instinctively make its way to a flat, after having had too much to drink in some forsaken pub. Continue reading “Freedom (Fragment 2)”
It should have been a boy. A boy still had a chance. It only made sense to be that way. Her innocence robbed from her without warning, by a force bigger than her, while her kind, loving fiancé had no idea about what was happening, the shame of carrying a child out of wedlock… it simply had to be a boy.
But a girl… She held her daughter in her arms, overwhelmed by an unknown wonderful warmth, torn apart by feelings she didn’t know anyone could experience. Continue reading “Mother (Fragment 2)”
Have you ever seen a car with wipers and wing mirrors scotch taped and thought, “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy”? Let me be clear, said car didn’t suffer some mishap; someone was trying to make a point, in a rather humorous way.
I’m no advocate of vandalism, but this is what end of summer here will do to a person. In fact, I was so taken with that original non-destructive kind of punishment, that I immediately snapped a pic which I will gladly present if I happen by when someone else contemplates perpetrating a similar kind of offense.
We were talking about pillows while he had me in his arms, in a tight embrace, skin on skin. It was summer, warm and terribly humid, and I understood he didn’t care for such heat. Yet he stubbornly refused to let me go.
He was telling me he also slept with lots of pillows at home. One of his hands was holding mine, while the other took hold of a pillow, placing it between the two of us, and he was laughing. He grabbed the pillow and squeezed it tightly against his chest, allowing me to try and break free for a second.
“This is how I sleep at home. But tonight, however, this is how I’m holding you.”
Right… so “I wore this before” and I’ve certainly listened to some of that music before. And the man who’s dancing with me on his shoulders now is none other than my oldest and closest friend, one of those people who have seen me wear this the first time, with whom I’ve listened to this music when it was brand new.
Knowing each other through all the stages of our life means we share a certain kind of complicity and unique connection. It also puts everything in a very special perspective. Continue reading “Everybody Jump (Part 7)”
It’s fun, but I can’t help feeling a bit like Pavlov’s dog… one of the many Pavlov’s dogs there. But as far as crowds go, this one in this particular context is pretty harmless. It’s really not the time or the place to go into crowd psychology matters, is it?
Maybe they don’t even think about it, or maybe they have their own reasons… or maybe it all depends on the individual. I know I have my reasons for jumping when told to jump… Continue reading “Everybody Jump (Part 6)”
Don’t worry, I’m not about to start rambling about financial stability or anything like that. These are a different kind of pockets…
In case that wasn’t clear, a certain facetious little question did creep into my thoughts more than once: am I too old for this? Am I too old to wear this dress? Am I too old to go to this thing? Am I too old for this sort of fun? What gets to me most is not the question, but the fact that I let a certain kind of social pressure, a judgemental, narrow-minded attitude infiltrate my thoughts. Funny, I never really wondered, “Am I too young for this?”, no matter what age I was.
I Must Be Getting Old, Because I Can Have Fun Sober
Two words will say it all: designated driver. Let’s put it this way… when it comes to such events, our dear old taxi drivers turn from your everyday vultures into… jackals maybe? I think that’s appropriate enough, although I’m not such a connoisseur of wild life, so if a better comparison comes to mind, feel free to share it. But I can be an argumentative little beast myself. It’s not really about the money, but the principle involved. I live here, I know the town, I know the routes, I also know what the right price should be; and while I always tip the driver and I wouldn’t mind paying a little bit extra on that sort of occasion, I absolutely refuse to pay five times the real fare. I will certainly state my point of view to the driver… and I will inevitably be kicked out of the taxi, rude words will be exchanged, and that’s how one generally ends up having to walk home.
Yes, I definitely needed this, I realized as soon as I got over that slight annoyance of the security check. I love dancing. I always have, even if as a child my mother repeatedly told me I had no sense of rhythm. But once I overcame that childish insecurity, I simply couldn’t care less. I would never be a professional dancer, certainly no prima ballerina as my mother would have liked, but I reasoned my dancing skills were good enough for an average person. Besides, it was so much fun, empowering even. Now I would also say it’s a great workout, especially for someone like me, who hates working out.
Looking around these days, I often feel either terribly nostalgic or ever so slightly exasperated with the repetition. I catch myself rolling my eyes; then I remember, this too shall pass. Yes, it’s a loaded fashion time for me, as I’m sure it is for many ladies of my generation.
Quite a few stores and display windows make me pause and think, I wore this before… or at least something very similar. But so many memories and considerations about the past caught up with me during the last year, so why wouldn’t fashion do the same?…
No better time to venture outside one’s comfort zone than summer, I say.
In the spirit of the afore mentioned belief, I occasionally feel like getting out of the house without any makeup on or investing in an ugly pair of hiking boots and going to the mountains… or even like writing something slightly more personal and fun for my blog, to break the recent routine of wordless photography and book related stuff.
The brief account of the events leading to that moment was over and the lady in front of him was silent now, waiting for him to react. Statuesque and commanding, yet somehow maternal, that’s how the officer’s wife appeared to him that evening. Continue reading “Neighbours (Fragment 2)”
There’s nothing worse than a good man – a good man who thinks it’s enough to be a good man.
She touches the words on the first page, fingers taking in the essence of their own writing. Has he started with the first page or has he pried right in the middle of her inky thoughts? Continue reading “Albatross (Fragment 2)”
Catch the final days of the he biggest sale of the year at Smashwords!
For the entire month of July, thousands of Smashwords authors and publishers will offer readers exclusive discounts on their ebooks. From July 1 through July 31, you’ll find over 40,000 exclusive deals in the annual Smashwords Summer/Winter Sale. Discount levels are 25%-off, 50%-off, 75%-off and 100%-off (FREE).
Browse the sale catalogue, find great bargains and discover new amazing authors!
Be sure to monitor the sale until the end of July, because thousands of new titles will join the promotion as the month progresses.
I’m also participating, so just visit my Smashwords page if you’re interested in any of my books. Happy reading and have a wonderful summer!
The inheritance was the desperately needed answer. However, the question only dared word itself the moment I found the solution. Of course my first impulse was to flee. For so long, I had dreamt of seeing and experiencing places without having to tailor my desires in order to fit a schedule, a person or financial considerations. Continue reading “Freedom (Fragment 1)”
In Albatross, the opening story, Linden gives us an honest perspective of husband and wife regarding the staleness of their marriage.
Then there is the single woman’s paranoia and fears that accompany what it’s like to live alone after being robbed.
And the story about the affair. “The moment we met, we knew the week spent together would be one of those times so essentially shallow, that it can have nothing less than a profound effect on both of us.”
He puts his hand between her legs… she needs to prove it…. Her tensed muscles try to stop him, but he’s much stronger. He pulls her near, his left hand on the nape of her neck, in her hair, pulling and squeezing. His mouth finds hers and for what feels like an endless moment she lets him do whatever he pleases… because she doesn’t know anything anymore… or maybe it’s because she’s a girl and that’s what girls like her are supposed to do. Continue reading “Mother (Fragment 1)”