The first thing he felt upon regaining consciousness was wet and prickly. He couldn't see just yet, and wouldn't be able to turn his head even if his eyes were working properly. In fact all he could move were the fingers of his left hand. So he was determined to make the best of that situation until he could do more.
If he could do more. A thought he quickly would not allow himself to hold on to.
He gripped the objects between his fingers. No, it was a substance. He flattened his hand and ran the back of it...
He didn't think he was much of a cat person until he met Matilda.
When Luke first set eyes on Matilda in the local cafe he knew it was her. It was HER. His one and true love. She just didn't know it yet...
Every day he'd see her and two months rolled on by before he introduced himself.
"Hello, my name's Luke and you are?" he asked one morning nervously.
"Matilda..." she replied cautiously.
Matilda! Oh Matilda Matilda Matilda! What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman!
A few awkward seconds ticked past.
"I um...I've seen you around and...
Above the open road
Below the open sky
Away from the clouds of crowds
Shadowed in the close of crows
Below the open sky
Summer is a sifter
Separating the go from the gone
Write an open story
Above the open road
Call it youth or freedom
Call it the future or America
Be above or below
Get out and go.
Shape is a thing that comes to you, after you have grown.
Breasts.
Waist.
Arms.
Butt.
It's a struggle between feeling fit and feeling smart, isn't it? This is the struggle. The struggle to take shape.
Job.
House.
Money.
Love (but not in a way that denotes overindulgence).
These are the sacrifices we make between sheer bliss and sweet control. You don't blame me?
You shouldn't.
Driving along a road at night, rain pelting down, tall trees waving low branches across the sky, no moon, no road lights - thank god for cats eyes to keep me in the middle of this narrow lane. I wonder how far I have to drive before I can forget what happened? I wonder how far I have to travel before I can lose myself? I wonder how far I have to search before I find myself?
A failed marriage. A broken heart. The stuff of melodrama. I never thought these things would happen to me. Trapped in the nightmare...
OF SEXY. HE HAS THE PERFECT MUSCLE. WHEN HE HOLDS ME I MELT. HE IS CHARMING AND GIVING. HE MAKES ME FEEL SO PERFECT. I LOVE IT WHEN I CATCH HIM STARING. THE SMILE HE GIVES ME EVERY TIME HE SEE'S ME. HIS LAUGH IS LOUD. HE IS MY FAIRYTALE ENDING. HE IS MY PRINCE CHARMING. HERE TO TAKE ME AWAY THE PERFECT LIFE. LIVING IN HAPPINESS AND WORRY FREE. LIVING IN THE LAND OF LOVE.
"Swing." She watched her daughter, ignoring the wails and screams.
"Push me Mom!"
"No. Lean back and put your legs out. Then lean forward and pull them back."
"PUSH me MOM! NOW!"
"No. Lean back then forward. You can do it yourself. You will go higher then. Higher than even I can push you."
"MOMMY! Push me!"
"No. You need to be able to do it yourself." She watched as her daughter swung her uncoordinated legs about before giving up.
"Mommy! It DOESN'T work!"
"Let me show you. See! If I lean back and forth the swing goes without someone...
Goodnight sweetheart, well it's time to go...
Goodnight sweetheart, well it's time to go...
There's a contentment there. I find myself humming that, especially when everything has gone to hell and the day is a loss, and yet there is still the final evening bits to get through.
It's Sha-NA-NA in my head. A sense of contentment settles over me, a sense of belonging - to another time, a younger time - a time before pain. Well. A time before this particular kind of pain, or even the pain of what was coming a few years after that song stopped...
Their trip to the zoo had been postponed due to the rain. She was gutted as it was something she had looked forward to since their arrival roughly five months ago. And it had promised to be such a fine day upon waking: sun without clouds; an average or around 17 degrees, exceptional for winter. Like with so much about the country (and there was rather a lot): it was one long line of broken promises. However, she had learnt early on not to give much credence to the weather forecasts and to trust her own judgement and the colour...
She clicked her camera once more, capturing the images and saving them for all time in the data banks of the portable media device. She absolutely loved this new era. Her collection had grown so expansively since wakening on this plane.
She clicked the device off and placed it, lovingly, in its designated bag and turned her attention to her coffee and bagel. The three men she had just captured milled about, confused. She suppressed a giggle at their momentary befuddlement. Humans always seemed to notice, no matter how many calming spells she wove over them. It was as if...