Tag: story

Moss

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Through the water I wadded, slowly the cold creeping up to my chest, the heat of the day was unbearable and the cold, a relief.

I pressed forward the heart cooling, slowing and the mind clearing. Up in front the water fell filtered through the moss. Each stream an individual drop united to form a string, a necklace of pearls reflecting the suns light.

I reached out to touch and my hand sank into the soft. Those five centimetres of give, the gentle resistance and response were pleasure. The cold and grainy friction released the tension in my heart and brought a smile to my face. Pure nature, simple touch and ecstasy.

Sticky

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I woke up early, but wanted to sleep more. My body was tired from the walk. I felt like I wanted to go again, to hike up the hill and try hard, but another part of me thought it would be better to rest.

Then the mind started to tick remembering last night and that smile. It was okay, the beers and the laughter, although slowing me down was worth it, just to see her bounce around.

I rolled over to the cold side of the pillow, a little laughter emerged from my heart. I was stuck again, what would come out of this new turn?

Between

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Filled up with sounds noises from people with a passion for loud. To hear their own voices lining the net to trawl all the water to gain some respect. 

To drown all the feelings that they have inside to walk the same line to know your beside.

Joined to the masses the majority rules no space for magic, no time for the crude, but I ask you this can you remember the last, time you and sat and stare at the sky watch all the clouds just pass you by.

Sit there and sit there and feel the wave the wave of silence fill the divide. The space between all your thoughts these are the spaces we never were taught. 

So open your eyes and hope you have dust on your wings to help your life spin. 

Watered down

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In front of me I have three glasses, one full of beer, the middle one empty and the third full of water.

Let’s take the beer to start with. I like to think of beer as a representation of the essence of the experience. It represents the bodies physiological response to the moment you enjoy and that moment can be anything, sex, laughter, sport, fear, enlightenment. Whatever, whatever moment that makes your body shake, form goose bumps, chicken skin, arousal, sweat. Anything that makes the heart beat faster.

The empty glass, that’s you and for the moment that’s empty.

And the third glass, well that’s water, that’s comfort that’s the easy path those are things that make your life easier, that’s things that help you pass difficult problems. That’s the internet, that’s a hover, those are things that ease the arousal, slow the heart beat.

We pour a little beer in the empty glass, it feels good, if you haven’t had it in a while it’s even better, we pour a little more in, but then we are shaky the body overloads, so we add water, we balance the beer.

But then we start to learn, there are tricks to get more beer with out the fear, there are ways to get more beer inside without the overload, so we fill up we add the water, the clip stick the panic draw, the ai, the insurance, the Burberry wallet. We now have all the ways to cope with more beer, but then we take a sip and we realise we are just drinking water, our beer has been diluted.

Goose bumps come from feeling, whatever thought inspires those bumps has to have an element of jeopardy it has to be beer and the more we learn to use water to fill up on beer the more we forget the taste.

Words

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Always the same, like emotions, they are just our understanding of physiological responses to our thoughts.

Our body sweats, scared, fatigued, hot… simple. But then you see, the words get all twisted up and used to make people feel a certain way. Words should not push the feeling, feeling should push the word.

Then it all gets kinda complex. Do I feel the feeling because of the words or do I really see the thing and feel the truth. Or my truth at least.

Too many factors, the experiment would have too many variables to make a clear evaluation.

Anyway Paradise.

He laughed to himself.

Thief

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‘Right we got seven minutes.’ Sean said as they walked purposefully through the maze of shelves, using the light from their phones to illuminate their path to the counter. They jumped over and entered the office closing the door behind them. On a wooden desk they saw the safe perched precariously on top, a large dial and lock on the front. Sean handed Biola the scrap of paper and put the key in the lock.

‘read out the numbers’

Biola responded.

‘clockwise – 18’

Sean twisted the dial so the number 18 was in line with the red marker at the top of the dial where 12 would be on a clock.

‘Anti-clockwise – 33’
Again Sean twisted the dial, but this time in the opposite direction. ‘clockwise – 46’

The dial make a click as if something had released behind the door, they looked at each other and then Sean turned the key with the red tag in the lock. It ran smoothly, and there was a louder click as the heavy door swung open with its own weight and the angle of the desk the safe was sitting upon.

‘Boooom’ Biola cried as he peered into the safe, there were wads and wads of cash, it seemed like more than they had anticipated, it looked like something out of Ocean’s Eleven, it felt like Ocean’s Eleven, maybe they had more than they were expecting? Maybe they could all go home with 5K Biola thought.

‘Shhhhh’ Sean interrupted. ‘Pass me the bag’ Biola paused
‘The bag’ Sean demanded raising his voice a little.

Biola looked around as if he had dropped the bag, but he knew straight away that he had forgotten it, it wasn’t even in the car, he knew exactly where it was, he knew it was back at the flat on the sofa in Sean’s living room.

‘Sh*t man, sorry..’
Sean looked up at him, ‘you kidding me? You chump. F**k man’

But this was no time to despair, The clock was ticking and they needed a solution. Sean was thinking quickly.

‘Get some X-change bags’
‘From where?’ Biola replied
‘F**k knows, behind the counter.’ Sean guessed

Biola quickly responded walking out of the office to the area behind the counter. He started looking through the cupboards, nothing in the first, then he looked into the second, just a load of random stationary and plastic figures from cartoons and computer games that mostly came as freebees when new games came into the shop to help promote the new releases. Biola opened the third door and there was a stack of plastic bags neatly folded.

‘Yees bruv’ he called out to Sean, ‘How many do we want?’ ‘Bring two’ Sean estimated.

They stuffed all the notes into the plastic bags, the wads mainly in tens, a few twenties and some blocks of fives. The denominations low to reflect the value of the sales that the shop made to its customers.

‘Pikeys’ Sean murmured under his breath as if he was justifying the robbery to himself by creating a Robin Hood type of persona.

‘Right, lets go, check Tyrell is cool.’ Sean indicated as he pushed the safe door shut turned the key and picked up his bag.

Melissa

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Melissa hurried to the back of the shop, picked up a scrap of paper and placed it in the front pocket of her bag. From the safe door she turned the small key with a red tag three times to the right, withdrew the key and placed it in the same pocket of her bag as the scrap of paper. Her nightly lock-up complete, she then walked out from behind the counter and in-between the rows and rows of DVD’s to the light switch. She looked back into the shop her heart rate increasing, she paused with her hand hovering over the switch looking in and out of the maze. Had she forgotten something? Had her colleague definitely left earlier or was he hiding behind one of the sets of shelves? She dismissed the thought, flicked the switches and the room immediately fell into darkness. She opened the door, stepped outside, out from the warm island created by the heating system above the door and into the cold damp air of winter.

She pulled the door shut and out of her bag took a large set of keys flicking through the set to find the one that fitted the lock. Her hands were stiff and her heart was beating quickly, she found the correct key, raised it to the lock and as she did her fingers faltered and the set dropped to the floor. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but there was no-one who cared, so she bent down and picked them up.

Squeaky and the Sunshine Fairies

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Good morning – said the voice from somewhere up above, good morning squeaky replied with a little yawn. He rolled over in his little bed, scrunched up his little face and let out a looooong sigh. And who will you be today the voice continued. Squeaky paused for a moment and then let out his reply.

“Today I want to be squeaky” he announced proudly.

Squeaky lived in a little hole on the north side of moss valley, he had lived there for as long as he could remember, and he loved his little house, it had a little bed, a small stove, (that he frequently bumped his tail on) a set of shelves and of course a cupboard for all his clothes. 

However despite squeaky being a happy sort of a fellow there was one this missing from his home, his mummy. 

Ugly

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They were breathing heavily as they crossed the motorway. It had been a long walk along the side of the fence until they had found a way up and over. They crossed the lanes quickly as the traffic was thin and now with fatigue setting in they needed somewhere to sleep. Slipping and sliding across the loose earth on the banks below the metal barriers, they slowly forced their way through the thick brambles towards the silhouette of a building in the distance.

After 40 minutes or so they arrived, the windows and doors boarded up but the building looked solid. A concrete masterpiece. After a few minutes they found a gap in the fence and had climbed the sharp edges of the spiral staircase, when they reached the top Billy pushed forcefully against the old door and it caved in.

Simple

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We arrived late at night, the process was simple, we all knew how to put it together and it was not long until we were out of the sun and the food was on the table.

I looked around at the faces of those that I loved and wondered about what was enough. What was needed or what was wanted. I looked back at my plate the flavour was the same, the same as always, but the smiles were there too, same as always.