Showing posts with label Romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romance. Show all posts

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Summer Pleasures FGC (2012) #16


For Summer and her pleasures, a bittersweet farewell
tiny claws on the clouds foretell
Spring shadows murky within the mist
her hunger burnt unsated until the hidden tryst
she lay sinister lustful beneath the blooms spell
every detail shared in her diary bombshell
shocked eyes torn across the words compel
me now, wishing never to see that list.
I pray to unlearn of her walk in the meadow
the translucent touch of my hell.
Peaceful vapours turn late light to damp evil
Can I feed on Summers crumbs and exist?
Summers pleasures where we kissed
embrace deeply before she can scream and yell
winter welcomes Summers blood bright across the snow.


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This was written in response to Write Anything's Form and Genre Challenge , a Rondeau Poem - number 16#.


 Once again delving into poetry where things for me are not comfortable. I realise the absolute importance of choosing the right words within the right space.


A Rondeau is a short poem consisting of fifteen lines that have two rhymes throughout - as far as my research told me - something similar to a shakespearean sonnet.

This was also submitted to Friday Flash ( thought technically - its not really a flash....)

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Ahab Amor FGC (2012) #2


Tiarna stumbled through the undergrowth, her heart hammering as her breath laboured in the unfamiliar atmosphere. Her body ached as it was weighed down under the dense gravity. Every movement felt as though she fought her limbs through treacle.
There was no need to look behind her. The crashing of saplings behind forced her unwilling body to continue.
Feeling for her side arm, she cursed unashamedly as she realised it had been lost in the struggle moments ago. Her legs screamed as she continued to pound them through the undergrowth.
She fought towards an opening into the jungle as light streamed through the vines. Tiarna clutched at a sapling to push her way into the golden beams, lost her balance as she realised the ground had also disappeared and her body flung helplessly downward. Her fingers tightened their grip around the sturdy trunk of the tree as she dared a peak at what lay below her. Her feet tingled as the expanse below her yawned wide. The crashing in the jungle above her had stopped. She listened hoping the pursuit had turned away from her perilous hiding spot. Hearing heavy footfalls gather speed away from her, Tiarna decided to attempted to push herself up against the crumbling rockface.  She calculated the drop to the rushing water beneath her was probably more than what she was willing to risk falling into.
Tiny rocks crumbled at the lip of the cliff, spilling over and showering her. as one of her pursuers steadied himself as he came to a halt above her. He face, crinkled like orange peel slowly registering his disbelief that he had lost his prey. Tiarna clung to the tree staring up at the stocky legs and brutal blade stained with the blood of her shipmates. 
He scanned the churning water and slowly checked the ledge. He sadistic smile widened as he locked his eyes on hers. His thickened arm brought his machete skyward. Tiarna closed her eyes and pushed herself away from the cliff, kicking her legs at the rockface to give her extra distance. The water below seemed close enough but as she hung in the air, she realised she’d misjudged the distance and prayed that it was deep enough to take her impact.
All too quickly, the icy cold drove the air from her lungs as she slammed into the water. Sharp pain shot through her chest as the raging river carried her buoyant body down stream.  Above the water, she heard the roar of her pursuer as he watched her escape.   In the wispy green froth of a backwashed eddy, she floated toward an edge. Tiarna dimly attempted to scratch her way into the bank, crying out in pain as something pulled at her shoulder and dragged her ashore.
Fading in and out of consciousness, she felt the warmth of a body as she was cradled and carried through a sparse forest. She screamed as she was jolted over the rough ground. Her world mercifully went black.
Snapping of twigs and a crackle of fire awoke Tiarna. She grunted as a dull ache in her chest reminded her of her tumble from the cliff. A large form stood from his crouched position near the fire and ambled hesitatedly across to her.  Its hairy face peered at hers as it extended one of its limbs across to her. 
“Damn it. Sorry, I don’t have my translator on me.” Tiarna brushed her hair from her face and attempted to push herself to a sitting position. She kept her face neutral, unsure what the welcoming protocol might be with this unfamiliar species. “ Uh. Hi. Greetings.”
A chair scraped across the wooden flooring and confident steps approached from behind the couch she way laying on.
“Pixy. No touching our guest.”  A more familiar human shape slid round the couch and knelt beside her. “Oh good. You’re awake. I wasn’t sure of the doseage for pain relief. Are you comfortable at least?”
Tiarna frowned but nodded. A fluffy pale blue face peeked over the mans shoulder. Two long fingers stole their way onto his shoulder.
The man reached up and patted them, smiling at Tiarna. “Water monkey. Only found on this planet. Very rare. Extremely intelligent species.”
Tiarna  swivelled her neck, taking in the simplicity of the cabin she lay in. It appeared to be one room, well sealed against the elements, basic necessities catered for, but no technology. She grasped at the mans shirt, pulling him close. “Where am I?”
Pixy’s top lip curled as a guttural growl reverberated around the cabin.  Xander stroked the monkey’s hand. “Its ok, Pixy. Go and boil the kettle for us, will you?” Pixy’s lips pursed as he frowned at Tiarna. Reluctantly with a sharp squeak, he ambled over to the fireplace.
The mans patient smile disarmed Tiarnas wariness. “You’re in shock and you’ve got a pretty nasty injury from your escape. I’m pretty certain most species across the universe begin with introducing themselves.” Those soft lips turned upwards as he smiled. “I’m Xander and this” as he gestured to the interior. “is my home. Pixy here found you at the side of the river. I’m not sure what you were wearing onboard, but it was pretty tatty by the time I found you. Sorry, but Pixy had torn most of it off you by the time I got there.” A slight flush rose from his throat. He stumbled on, “You were wet and moonfall on this planet drops the temperatures to sub zero temperatures. I. Erm.. ” The slight flush continued to colour his throat. “ had to undress you and get you decent again.”
Tiarna loosened her grip on his shirt; suddenly aware of the proximity between the two and shocked as her body reacted to him. She flattened her hand against his chest, allowing a moment to delight in the firmness underneath his cotton shirt. Her breath shortened as her heart hammered. She could feel the blood rise around her own cheeks. Swallowing hard, she dropped her hand; hoping he’d not sensed the flare of hormones she thought had died within her; killed off by relentless training and self control.
Tiarna  smiled, “Thank you. For saving me and for” she looked down at the well worn settlers smock and trousers, “Well, for making sure I didn’t freeze. Its fine; really.”  
His hand caressed her tight grip. “What do you remember?”
She flickered her eyes away from his steady gaze and forced herself to take  a deep breath. “My shipmates. All dead. It was an ambush. We had no chance. The blood.” Tiarna  raised her eyes up, tears forming. “All I can hear, are my shipmates screaming. I feel like such a coward. I ran. I just kept running. I should have stayed. Should have tried to help.”
His arms slithered around her and gently held her as she shook. She allowed her form to meld into his. Alarmed at her lack of self control she attempted to push him away. 
”I’m not normally like this. I’m sorry.” She attempted to straighten and sit up. His arms loosened, but continued to press against hers as his hand rubbed her back gently. Tiarna shook her head and took a deep breath. She could feel her heart racing as his hand continued to stoke her shoulder. “Where exactly are we?” looking towards the door fearfully.  “Its just that - those men, those things. I’ve seen them before. Normally bounty hunters. They’ll find us. Find me. They never stop until; ” She clasped a hand over her throat.
Xander smoothed the blanket she had on her lap across her legs slowly. Tiarna could feel every nerve ending tingle. His hands remained on the edge of the blanket, his fingers brushing her thigh. “That remains to be seen. Its dark out and will be for another 20 hours. Moonrise is only short this spin. Bounty hunter or not. They’d have to be good trackers to find us with no moon or trail tonight.” Xander smiled again. It made Tiarna relax.   “Lets try again. You are?”
“Tiarna. From The Ullu sector.” She flickered her eyes up to see if he picked her lie. She couldn't afford for this stranger, no matter how attractive or caring he seemed, to suspect who, or what she was.  “Our supply ship was on a routine drop to Settlers Cove.” Tiarna ’s fingers gripped the blanket. “We had nothing special on board. Nothing you’d kill anyone over. Instead of landing at the main dock, we were instructed to put down in a clearing a short way from it. Nothing unusual about that either. We do those sorts of things for new colony’s all the time. Most of you settlers don’t have any transport, so we just try and help out where we can. One moment we are lugging boxes and the next I hear screams. They way they looked at me. I knew I was next. I ran into the jungle.”  Tiarna’s breath became ragged.”So cowardly. I should have stayed.” She clawed at her throat making red marks across it. “Blood gushing out like theirs, screaming like they were.” Tiarna  began to gasp.  “So senseless. We had nothing of any value. Not really.”
She wheezed as the words caught in her throat, suddenly wondering if her identity had been discovered. She’d been so careful. Not even her shipmates suspected that she was anything other than space flotsam, interested only in the next cargo run. Xander’s hand ran up her arm and brushed across her cheek. His smile calmed her as the air between them sparked with intention.
“If you don’t mind me saying, apart from all your shipmates being murdered, your ship destroyed and a bunch of bounty hunters on your trail trying to tie up some lose ends, you seem to be pretty stressed.”
Tiarna  looked at Xanders solemn face incredulously. He burst out laughing and was quickly joined by her infectious giggle.  She howled with laughter and wiped away her tears.  “I don’t think I’ve laughed like that in years.”
He shrugged. “Laughter always helps to lighten the mood. Now, you’ll need some rest so the wound on your leg can heal. I’ve patched it up as best as I can, but you’ll need a medic.”
Tiarna flushed, realising that she had to trust him a little. “I can’t go to a human medic, I;” 
Xanders hand brushed against her cheek as he stood. “I’ve met Stelio before. Despite what you think, you aren’t that different. At least, from what I have seen.”
Her flush deepened as she realised that none of her ships uniform had remained on her body.  Xander brought her a steaming cup of tea. “Monkey made. The best you’ll have planetside.”
Pixy watched her intensely as she took her first sip, clapped as she smiled and snuggled into a bed of rags beside the fireplace. 
“Goodnight Miss Tiarna. Don’t worry about those three hunters. With the discharge from your burning ship, there is no way they’ll find a trail on you. We can look at options to get you onto a ship back to Nissar in the morning.”
Tiarna dozed as the painkillers dulled her senses. She woke suddenly as the events of the evening began to process. She moved her head round as the flickering of the fire played shadows on the walls.  Pixy’s mound moved rhythmically to what she suspected as its sleep pattern.  She relaxed as she heard deep breathing from a darkened corner. Tiarna slipped the blanket off her legs and attempted to put weight onto one leg. Pain shot through her body and she was forced to accept she would be unable to escape on foot. Tiarna’s fingers tingled as her suspicions began to rise about her rescuer. She’d not mentioned her ships demise, nor told him how many attackers there were. She’d initially found it strange that he hadn’t reacted when he looked at her. Tiarna flushed. He had to have seen her undressed and hadn’t been repulsed with her soft scaly chest.  Her species were not known to travel outside their solar system and although she was humanoid enough to pass casual scrutiny, her peoples lizard features were not generally considered attractive. They did, however, make up this feature with other skills. 
Her heart hammered as she thought of Xander laying in bed only a few feet away from her.   It had been years since she’d yearned for the press of another body against hers. Tiarna quickly quashed her wandering thoughts and looked around for a weapon. In the morning, she was determined to find out who he was and how he knew so much about her and the name of her home planet. 

A tiny blade, most likely from his megre food preparation area, lay on the table beside the couch. Tiarna picked it up to study it, quickly pushing it under the blankets as she heard Xander shift in his bed.  She turned to look at his form, shocked to discover he was standing behind her.
“I’m sorry Tiarna.” She padded over to the couch in bare feet and stood in front of her.  “You were just a job. Your shipmates. Regrettable but necessary.”
Tiarnas eyes flickered into slits, her camouflage disintegrating as her emotions began to discharge. “Just a job?”
“To find a Stelio this far from her home planet? Alone? Collectors from all round are desperate to secure your services.”
 “Services. You humans don’t even have enough words in your vocabulary to describe what I can do.”
“I’m sorry Tiarna. I didn’t mean to sound so cold. I only meant.”
She spat venomously “So all this was just a ploy. You knew who I was straight away.”

Xander brought out a communicator. “I knew. I was back up. They told me you’d fallen into the water and I was meant to intercept you and bring you in.”
“So why am I still here and not in some cage?”
Xander  flushed. “You looked so .. helpless. I didn’t expect you to be so beautiful. I’ve never - ” He shook his head. “Not cross species before.”
He set the communicator down. “They’re still looking for you. I told them you’d never made it down as far as me. The gators in that river get pretty big.”
Tiarnas eyes widened.
“Between you and me though - they don’t live in the fast running water sections - but don’t tell anyone - it keeps people away from these parts.”
Tiarna’s fingers felt for the hidden blade and inched it toward her palm.  “So what happens now?”
He sat beside her and brushed a hand across her hair. “You’ve no idea how hard it is to be in the same room as you. I’d always heard about the Stelio; about their effect on others. But never believed.”  One hand slid down to her arm which hid the blade. He moved in closer, his hot breath tickled her throat. “Its hard for me to work out what is natural attraction and what you are controlling.” His hand fondled the fingers which covered the blade.  “I say we take our chances.”  
Tiarnas breath shortened. She’d never felt the rush of emotions which now coursed though her body.  “Run? Hide?” She’d been running all of her life. Running from who and what she was. She rubbed her face against his and nibbled at his ear, whispering, “We are hardly inconspicuous with a Water Monkey in tow.”
Xander’s lips met hers;  lingering as they breathed in one another’s desire.  Tiarna dismissed the blade and brought her hand up around the back of his neck. 
He breathed, “We are hardly inconspicuous with a Stelio.”
As Xanders hands clutched around her body, his stunray clattered to the floor.
Tiarnas fingernails ripped the back of his shirt as he pushed her onto the couch. Her eyes glittered in the firelight “I say we take our chances together.”


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Word Count : 2 654


Ahab Amor - loose translation ( mixed languages)  - for the passion of love.

This story was written in response to Write Anything's Form and Genre Challenge ( Romance) and currently still in draft format - awaiting final polish from feedback.

This story was submitted for #2 of FGC.

This  was also submitted to Friday Flash.


Saturday, February 19, 2011

Mea Maxima Culpa

The prompt  over at Write Anything this week sets the scene as late on Feb 14th. Your character has realised that they have forgotten Valentines Day and the affiliated expectations surrounding it. What excuse or reason are they going to give to their partner?  

As always, this is in first draft format.

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This story has been removed to be polished and submitted into competitions.. wish me luck!




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This is a first draft.

Story inspired by the [Fiction Friday] prompt at Write Anything  and submitted to JM Strother’s #FridayFlash via Twitter.

This story will be recorded and posted up for Spoken Sunday via Audio Boo

Friday, September 25, 2009

Golden Romance

Prompt: The house lights dim, the curtain goes up… you’re on.

Each week I also rise to an additional challenge - that to explore a different genre or writing style. Last week, I had been given the challenge of writing a romance in the style of Barbara Cartland. Having never read one of her books, I went to the library and quickly read the first that came to hand. I hope I give justice to her particular style of romance with this weeks offering.

If you’d like to suggest a genre for me to write in next week – please leave it with your comments!

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Suzanne flickered her long eyelashes and stole a glance at Kurt. He’d already sunk into the arrogant stance of his character and stood poised for the opening line. She could hear the impatient murmur of the audience on the other side of the thick curtain and quickly ran her hands down her costume, ensuring it was sitting straight, before giving the final nod to the stage manager.

The house lights dimmed as the curtain went up and the Stage Manager strode across to centre stage in front of the actors.

“Your gracious patience has been noted gentlefolk. As our belle, Maria has been taken mysteriously ill, her part will be played by her understudy, the lovely Suzanne Manners. And now with no further ado..” he swept his hand across the stage and signaled the orchestra to begin the opening number.

“I’m on.” The panicked thought ripped through Suzanne, but with practiced ease, she opened her mouth and began singing; enthralling even the most disinterested audience member.
Suzanne could tell Kurt was unnerved at her performance, but it was hardly surprising. He’d been icily polite to her throughout the haphazard rehearsals with his philandering nature substantiated with his consistent post show liaisons with the other chorus girls. Anytime she had been called to practice her pieces, he’d looked bored or had simply slipped out with one of the other girls.

Her sudden thrust in the limelight had been a shock; but one she was not unprepared for. The rowdy rabble of ill-educated miners were hardly a match for some of the audiences she had had to woo in the past. A stab of sadness struck her as she though of her recently dead father and of her decision to find adventure in the minefields. If it hadn’t been for Nanny; she’d have submitted to the will of the bickering family members and her life would have been very different now. Suzanne twirled and finished her opening number with a flourish, allowing another wistful glance at the striking figure beside her and a wink to Nanny sitting in the front row.

The musical continued, the age old story of love lost and found again, betrayals and denial of emotions between the characters. It was one of three complete scripts the theatrical society had in their possession, and although most of the audience knew the story and songs after years of performance by various actors, they enjoyed the variety new blood brought to the roles.
Suzanne shivered as Kurts strong arms surrounded her. She lay her head on his chest and stared up into the dusty rafters, delighting in the rich timber of his voice as he serenaded his sweetheart. Her impassioned response and embrace was untainted by acting or pretence as she wished that the words he sang and spoke were truly ones from his heart to hers. As the last notes of the first act lingered, the audience erupted with cheers, throwing tiny pouches with gold dust onto the stage, particles glittering on the strong stage light beams.

The thick wooden doors at the back burst open violently and a half dozen soldiers, bedecked with brass buttoned uniforms and polished rifles burst in. The captain pushed his way in. “Sir Theodore. Your family will delight in knowing you are safe and well. It is my duty now to escort you back to England so that you may now take the responsibilities of the family estate.”
One of the heavy set miners stood up and faced him. “Ooi, don’t you mean Sir Percival? You got his name wrong.” A chorus of agreement followed.

The captain frowned and quizzically looked up at Kurt, whose arms were still held Suzanne. Kurt erupted in a huge theatrical laugh, “My dear fellows what a joke you now play on me. Just back from war and you need some entertainment? Why not meet me at the Empire Hotel later on and we can share further merriment.”

Suzanne looked up into the fierce eyes, glittering and glaring deep warnings at the Captain. The Prompt at the side stage flicked uncertainly through his copy of the script, searching for the amendment of the play.

“Sir Theodore, or Percival or whatever foolish name you have decided to take on; Your family awaits, as does your fiancée.”

The audience gasped, the biggest intake from Suzanne as she disentangled herself from Kurts grip. “Fiancee? How could you? You made me love you and I love you more than life itself. You are nothing but a bounder and a cad. All the stories about you are true.” Suzanne turned and began to weep.

The Prompt at the side flurried through his pages confused and angry he had not been given the updated script. The orchestra began a lamenting soulful tune, and the audience booed theatrically at Kurt; enjoying the new twist to an otherwise tedious interpretation of the script.

“I don’t love her. I love you.” Kurts hands found Suzannes shouldered and slipped over the satin white curves. “Be my bride, come back with me to the Estates. Let me take you away from all of this.”

Suzanne turned and looked up at him. “But all those women, you’ve never once looked at me. Really spoken to me.”

“I watched every movement you made since you first arrived. I have loved you from your first word.” He held her hands and searched her eyes intently. “ I don’t care if you are a penniless prospectors daughter. I love you and want you to be my wife.”

Tears trickled down her face as she gazed at him. “My darling, I have secrets which I too must reveal. I am the Wirthstein Heiress, not kidnapped as the papers state, but ran away to find adventure. I found that in spadefuls here on the gold fields, but I have also found love.”
The audience exploded with cheers and applause whilst the Captain continued to stare in confusion about him.

The two figures embraced with true passion as the lights dimmed. Kurt lifted Suzannes face with a gentle finger on her chin. Slowly and deliberately, her pressed his lips softly to hers, the moist whisper turning to an urgent hunger as they continued to embrace.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Gold Class

A memorable blind date.........


“You know I hate these forced social meetings.”

“If I had told you about it you’d never have agreed to come.”

“Damned right there, sister. I’m not.” I stood stock still on the red carpet, clutching my delicate beaded bag.

Her large brown eyes pleaded me to come in side. No doubt she had proclaimed my qualities as lyrically as she had just outlined Marcs to me.

I folded my arms and scowled at Suzanne. “Give the ticket to someonelse.” I waved my arm at the growing crowds around the carpet. “ I’m going for a drink.”

“You’re missing out Cheree. Mark will be very disappointed. Hes really nice”

She waved the tickets in front of me. “Gold Class opening night tickets to the biggest blockbuster out of Hollywood, plus the after party with some of the actors.’ The tickets flapped in front of my face. I had been desperate to see the movie, but with no strings attached. “ Come On! You can’t ell me you aren’t a little bit interested. Look. You don’t even have to stay with Marc all night – just be nice.”

Her insistent eyes began to irritate me. “Stop trying to set me up with Tonys drippy mates. I’m fine!”

Suzanne dropped her arm defeated. “Alright go back to your one bedroom flat with your psycho cat. And spend another Saturday night, Alone.”

She turned on her heel, a dark storm cloud looming over the friendship.

My heart squeezed as I watched her go inside, refusing to give me another glance.

She’ll come round in a few days I mused, I hoped.

I turned to look at the options in bars and nightclubs in the street around me. The loud beat from one reminded me that I was no longer young and able to cope with the constant pounding of the music all night. Unable to make any sort of conversation with anyone, these places were more of a marketplace for pick ups rather than a place to connect with someone. My black cocktail dress, heels and understated jewelry was hardly the garb to go dancing in either.

I opted for a small jazz bar further down the street, where I knew the pianist. The wood grain and the leather overstuffed couches gave it an opulent but intimate feeling; reminding one of the days of drawing rooms and gentlemen’s clubs. The lighting was always dim and although smoking was no longer allowed inside, the atmosphere remained foggy. Settling down on a padded stool around the piano I smiled at Marcel as he gave me a wink.

I sighed stirring my Brandy Alexander with the straw. Perhaps Suzanne was right. I did need to get out and meet men, and ending up in a tiny forgotten bar would hardly achieve this.

I watched Marcels fingers dance across the keys and drifted into a trance, carried off by his silken voice. I was vaguely aware of the warmth of another’s body as they settled into the seat beside me.

“Your Brandy Alexander” the waitress announced as she placed it beside my elbow.

“Oh thanks – but I didn’t order another.” I said confused as my hand reached for the stem of the glass.

“That’s because its mine”, a deep voice noted with amusement.

My eyes sprung open as a hot flush rushed over my face. Dark eyes, framed with long lashes and a shock of untamed hair smiled at me.

I stammered my apologies as I stared at the well dressed stranger.

He stirred the contents of the glass and looked up at me. “That’s alright, and before you say anything, I know Brandy Alexanders are usually a girls drink – but its my favourite cocktail, I’m alone and can’t see why I can’t order what I like!”

I laughed “You sound like someone who gets a hard time for your choices.”

He smiled a shy but genuine smile. “Well meaning friends are usually giving me a dig about one thing or another. Can I get you a drink of your own, or would you like to share mine?”

I laughed and offered my hand to him. “I’m Cheree and I am escaping another dreadful Saturday night set up.”

He stared at me. “ I’m Marc and I am doing the same.”

“Gold Class?” we both blurted and then erupted in laughter, the sound infectious to one another until we sat gasping for air.

“Well Cheree, It seems the universe has it in for us and we were meant to meet tonight. How about we make the best of it and just enjoy ourselves?”

“Deal” I said as we clinked our glasses together.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Whats Old is New

Sarah folded the untidy basket of t-shirts and neatly stacked them in colour matched rows. Edith bustled past with her arms full of stuffed plastic bags.


“Need any help Gran?” she called.


“Oh, no love. Just some more donations. I’ll just sort these out and we can put them out I into the shop tomorrow.” Edith replied making her way to the storeroom.


Sarah pushed her large framed glasses back up her nose and smoothed a stray hair away from her face.


“Hey, do you work here?” a shrill voice queried.


Sarah looked up and found as she suspected from the tone, a couple of blonds with far too much disposable cash, little taste and an overabundance of cheap make up.


“We have a Party to go to and need some clothes from the 70’s. By the looks of all this old crap we have come to the right place.” Squeaked the other chewing some gum while she spoke.


“Humm tasteful” Sarah thought and gave a weak smile while she suggested some of the backless evening gowns she had in stock. As the women tried on their garments, Sarah absentmindedly handed them accessories to accentuate the period. Shrieks of delight mixed with disbelieving comments on how great one another looked met her ears.


She was used to this sort of clientele. Despite the little shop being run entirely by volunteers, its turn over and reputation granted it a tucked away space within the CBD. Sarah was studying fashion design and found a lot of her inspiration from the fabrics and designs which passed through her hands at the charity shop. She loved the feel of some of the home woven jackets, the slick synthetics of the 70s and the over the top power dressing from the 80s. Sarah enjoyed watching people enter the shop and choose a variety of garments, mixing and matching to gain their own styles.. Her designs were very eclectic and she wanted to launch her urban wear range with that street savvy feel of the “common” people.


“I am looking for a safari suit. I need it for Saturday for a 70s costume party for work.”


Sarah didn’t bother looking up from her folding. “ We have a rack of Safari suit jackets and matching shorts over by the window.”


A grunted reply was her thanks.


“ Great,” she thought to herself folding the shirts as quickly as she could. “ I am going to have the entire office coming in all day. Cheap skates – why don’t they go to the costume hire place instead?”


Sarah finished her pile of shirts and allowed her eyes to wander over to the window where a broad back was busy filing through the rack of khaki. Looking at his physique there was no way he would be able to carry off a safari suit. Come to think of it not many men looked particularly good in them in the first place.


Sarahs hand languidly reached over to a rack of jackets and she pulled a velour purple number from its depths. On her way over to the safari suits, she picked up a crisp white shirt with an extra large collar and some dark slightly flared pants.


“ I think you’ll find you might be better wearing this to your party. Its sure to create an impression and I can assure you of its vintage.” Sarah spoke confidently to the broad back in front of her.


His shirt, slightly damp, clung tantalizingly to his muscular back and as he turned to face Sarah she took a deep breath in. He was a fashion designers dream model with perfect proportions with that rugged untamed look so in vogue at the moment. However this was veering dangerously on the slightly scruffy side of rugged and he had little colour co-ordination sense.


She stood awkwardly in front of him, arm partially stretched out with her choices of garments glued to her hand. He was so perfect and so tragic. Sarah wished she could subtly get rid of all the other browsing customers and have half an hour dressing him.


He stared at the purple velour jacket. “Are you sure?”


“Honey, I’ve never been more sure.” Sarah boldly stated. “ Try the whole outfit on and let see.”


She blushed hotly as he closed the make shift curtains of the dressing room. Good looking guys like that didn’t usually come into the store. Sarah wished she put some make up on this morning or worn a different blouse. She smoothed her hair again and queried the fluttering curtains.


“Is everything alright in there?”


A dramatic fling attempting to open the curtains saw Chris’s hand engulfed in the volumous material and he trapped, tugging his arm away.


Sarah stifled a giggle. She’d done the same thing a week ago – but thankfully no-one had been around to witness this embarrassing sideshow. She leapt to his rescue and together they managed to untangle the curtains and push the rods back into place. She stepped back and viewed his outfit. “Wow, you look great. Like that famous British spy in that series.”


Chris shook his head, but grinned sheepishly.


“ You’ll need this belt to finish it” and unceremoniously wrapped it around his waist, threading it through the belt looks and attempted to buckle it up.


“No, what I need to finish my outfit is to have a beautiful assistant to act as my cover.” Chris looked deeply into Sarahs eyes. She flushed and looked away. “ Will you come with me to the office party on Saturday night, Sarah? Mr Jenkins from Fashionesque has been invited. If he had even an inkling of your talent, you’d be snapped up as soon as you’ve finished your course.”


“ Chris, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I am happy here and I don’t need your uncles help to get a job with Fashonesque.” Sarah flushed again, a little angry now.


Chris reached over and held her arm gently. “ Will you come with me; as a friend then?”


Sarah swallowed hard and looked up at him. After six months of tantalizing conversation, chance visits and unintended work assignments together, it was now or never to tell him how she felt. “ I don’t want to be your friend. I…. ummm” Sarah stared up at Chris, incapable of vocalizing her true emotions.


Chris replied with a strong passionate kiss. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her in closely.


“I’ll take that as a yes”

A Fool in Love

A Fool in Love

“Gum?” Josh offered Shelly. She snorted, “That’s the oldest gag in the book!” But her little brother’s crestfallen face and pleading eyes made her take it. Even though she was expecting it, she shrieked with the snap of the small mousetrap device hidden in the fake gum wrapper and packet. Shelly pandered to her teenage brother’s obsession with cheap joke props and tricks. Whoopie cushions that never ceased to cause embarrassment and amusement at family gatherings, as did the plastic flies or spiders in drinks and at the smorgasbord tables.


“Alright you,” she punched him goodheartedly on the arm, “I’ll see you after work.” He trudged off into the shopping mall to take his place amongst the trolley boy brigade. She locked her small car and made her way off into the glittering labyrinth, to the specialty shop where she bided her time as a cashier.


Shelly smiled enthusiastically at each customer as they visited her register which their chosen purchases. Apart from Josh’s injections of good humour, her home-life was tense. At work she could forget about the fighting and nagging. No one here reminded her that she was reaching her used by date; left on the shelf like one of the less popular products at work. At work there was no pressure for her to go out and find herself a nice husband, everyone just accepted her for who she was. The management and clientele treated her with the respect that was her due.


“Grrr, so old fashioned,” grumbled the voice of reason in her head. Still, she did wish she had at least a boyfriend - like everyone else.


A tall, slightly ungainly young man approached her counter and dropped one of his items, sending the rest cascading out of his arms and over the floor. Shelly immediately bent over to assist and they banged their heads together, apologizing profusely to each other and then laughing. She helped him gather the rest of his items and rang up the total of his purchase. As she stamped his loyalty card, she smiled and said, “Gee you must love coming here! I must miss serving you most of the time.”


He smiled shyly, “You seem to be popular with the customers – but I see you…” He coughed and looked away. “ Umm, well I like it here, you never know what surprises are in store for you when you’re here,” He stammered, with that, he gathered his bag and collected his card with finesse .


That evening as she was cashing up, she noticed a playing card in amongst her banknotes. Turning it over she saw that it was a jester, his staff held high in the air. Shelly shrugged, grabbed a piece of blu-tac from under the counter and stuck it above her cash register, thinking it must have been one of the other cashiers idea of a joke. She would play along, she always did.


The next day, just as she was thinking about going to lunch, one of her regular customers commented on the card. Glancing up Shelly sucked in her breath. The card was now adorned with three gold hearts. The stickers had not been there when she started and she hadn’t left her counter all morning.


Shelly, preoccupied with the end of morning shift, didn’t notice who her last customer. As she closed the drawer for the second last time that day, a voice asked her how her head was. Looking up, she saw the young man from the day before, sporting an enormous egg shaped bruise and bump.


“Oh, I’m so sorry, are you alright sir?” Shelly fussed, overly concerned.

“Rick” he smiled. “How are you?”


Shelly’s hand flew to her head and he gently pushed her hair aside, his eyes studying her forehead.

“Humm you got off lucky. Not a scratch!” Rick exclaimed with relief.


An uncomfortable silence widened and was broken only when Rick handed her a packet of matches and a twenty dollar bill. Thankful now she had something to do, Shelly rang it up and handed him back his purchase, mumbling a goodbye with her eyes cast down.


“Nice hair clip sis! “ Josh enthused later, as they met back in the carpark.

“Huh?” Shelly mumbled as she felt her hair for the foreign object. She pulled a glittering heart shaped hair clip from her locks and stared at it.


Over the next fortnight, Shelly found odd heart shaped objects in her cash register, her jacket pocket and around her counter. She had seen Rick at the shop and had served him again a few times, but conversation never progressed further than chat about the transaction at hand.


One afternoon, Jo, the manager handed each shop assistant an envelope. “It’s a double pass to the variety show at the theatre tonight. We got a bunch of tickets from the event co-ordinator in exchange for their flier in the shop window.”


The evening was more enjoyable than she had expected. The MC announced the final act and asked for a young lady from the audience to volunteer as an assistant. The MC pointed at Shelly, motioning for her to come up on stage. Shelly protested the whole way, as her workmates and Josh cheered wildly.


A well executed plume of stage smoke cleared, revealing Rick, magnificent in a black satin cape and top hat. A single rose materialised at his finger tips for Shelly, who stood transfixed and staring at the anomaly before her. The bumbling lanky lad in the shop had chrysalised into a charismatic and sexy magician. She managed the composure to play along, to engage with him and his act to the unrepressed glee of her workmates and Josh.


Shelly was impressed with the ease and grace Rick performed his illusions. His stage show was breathtaking, even with her cynical eye, and her extensive experience at the magic shop. At the end as they took their bows, Rick’s arm snaked around her waist.

“That was all you – the things in the shop. Why didn’t you say anything to me all this time?” she whispered.

Rick grinned waving to the cheering crowd.

“I wanted this moment to be one you would remember for ever,” Rick whispered back. “I’m a fool for you Shelly, will you go out with me?”

A Message in Time

Mondays Musical Musings

A story inspired ( or begun) by listening to:

What Sarah Said by Death Cab for Cutie


"Is love watching someone die"


This first draft has been removed as it has been chosen to be edited and used in either submissions or competitions.

When it is published I'll provide a link here to it.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

All that I am.


Mondays Musical Musings... 8#

A story inspired ( or begun) by listening to:

"Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol

“All that I am All that I ever was is here in your perfect eyes , they are all that I can see. ”

This story explores Amys faith and depth of love - characters from :

This story unfolds during the time of Josephs capture.


Smeared in mud, tear streaking down her cheeks, Amy stumbled her way through the overgrown fields towards the tiny township. She had always drawn strength from Joseph and now unsure if he even lived, she felt her will being sapped away. Where was her God now? A merciful God, the one the catholic sisters at school had penetrated into her psyche, would never have allowed this horror to happen to missionaries doing His work. Tripping over a hillock, Amy landed with a thud and lay on the ground sobbing.


So many things left unsaid. They thought they had the rest of their lives to say them and now this. The gunshots still rung in her ears. His panicked face as he was dragged out of the dilapidated jeep and forced onto the ground while the rebels pillaged their goods. It had happened so fast. One moment joking and planning their next few years with the mission school, the next torn apart. Amy had believed she had a great faith and had left her decisions to God and to prayer. In one moment, her faith was shaken to its foundations. How could God allow something so horrific to happen to the perfect couple?


Amy lay in the mid looking skyward. It seemed pointless to go to the authorities. Joseph was most likely dead now, the supplies and the jeep far into he rebels territory. She was a foreigner and a Christian in this wild land and no-one would care. Joseph had constantly told her that he loved her but she could not bring those words to her lips. Perhaps it was her strict catholic upbringing, or her overbearing segregated schooling overshadowing her ability to express how she truly felt. It had always seemed a sin to her to love someone more than she loved God.


The sky was the same hue as his eyes. If she just lay her for a bit longer, she was sure she felt Josephs presence; his warmth and love sweeping over her. She realized that all that she was and ever was; was there in his perfect eyes. Perhaps if she just lay her for a few more moments, God would take her life and sweep her into his arms; away from the pain.


Always in control, always with an answer, calm and collected; Amy’s head ruled her body and her heart, but in this moment, she had no answers; only pain and confusion. In the past, they had not needed anything or anyone – doing it all for themselves, never asking for help or relying on others.


She looked deeper into the sky… and in the eyes of God. In a spit second she saw that this was not as God had intended. No loving God would wish constant struggle for his children nor should they try to do things alone. His was a message of love and community. She cursed Satan for sending his minions in the form of the rebels and for tempting her away from the true path.


“I need your grace to find my own.., help me Lord.” Amy prayed.

Joseph would not have wanted her to give up, to go home and leave the mission without direction or qualified teachers. It would be his legacy she would dedicate the rest of her life to building understanding and love for God through her teachings.


Amy wiped her streaked face and sat up. It would be a hot trek back to town, but she would find a way to replace the stolen goods and continue the work that Joseph and she had begun.


It was the least she could do in his memory.

Friday, May 30, 2008

Drunk on Expectations.





This Week’s Theme:
DRUNK ON......

This first draft has been removed as it has been chosen to be included in my 2008 Anthology and is under consideration for inclusion on a collaborative one with Jodi and Paul.


These will be available here - so do pop over!