Category: Uncategorized (Page 28 of 44)

“Have you thought about internet dating? I mean everyone’s doing it now, you know.”

I would have had a lot more respect for my best friend if she had delivered this winning strategy idea with a modicum of conviction. We both knew what she was thinking; “He could always put a picture from 2006 up, from before he put the weight back on, and then dress to best advantage…”

Now to her credit the other half of this thought is the much kinder “because if they get to know him they’ll make allowances”, which means at least she had faith in the amount of ‘smart and funny’ I could bring to the table, with perhaps a side-order of ‘doing okay for money’ if need be.

I looked at her, with a look that says ‘Bitch please!’. I could not control the muscles of my face. Hey that’s my story and I am sticking to it.

“OK, bad idea.”

“You think? Hell Linz, anyone not put off by the girth issue stands to be so toxic from previous damage… There’s nothing for it; the soup diet and spinning three times a week; it’s time for kill or cure!”

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This does not yet appear on ficlets.com due to a technical problem with that site and its OpenID login, i.e. I can’t get on the site, logged in.

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Normally on Mondays I try to write a Ficlet inspired by the front page of the English Language Wikipedia Site, but there was nothing all that inspired today, so I present this instead…

There is a sound that only smokers hear, rather that only smokers recognise. It is the sound that a cigarette makes as the flame from lighter or match catches the tip and the first drag of smoke flows into your lungs. The closest I can come to describing it is like the sound you would get from scrunching up a piece of very fine tissue paper, but even then that is not it. It is close, but there is another element to it as well, something that defies description and yet at the same time you could ask any smoker and they would know exactly what you meant.

As we stood there on the top of the cliff looking down at the city lights below, winking in the darkness, I realised that I was craving the chance to hear that sound; not a smoke at all. I did not have any on me; it had been 8 months since I had. Peter would not have any with him, after all he had been one of the principal architects of my quitting this time. I had to find a way to manage the anticipation and excitement without one. Peter nodded, time to jump.

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“Come now, we may be strangers to one another, but there is no need for that.”

The tall stranger slowly moved his hand away from the hilt of his sword, but in a slow and measured way that made it clear he would have no trouble getting it back there.

Bomo was trying very hard not to appear frightened; he knew that while Safin was doing the talking, he would be the one doing the fighting if it all went wrong. After all Safin had difficulty with cutlery; weapons were well beyond his capabilities.

“Won’t you sit with us and eat something? Perhaps we could offer you a drink? I assure you that we mean you no harm.”

The stranger nodded, and moved off the road in the direction that Safin had gestured, his gaze still flitting between them. Bomo was fairly sure that this clearly battle seasoned individual was looking for the double-cross, despite his apparently more relaxed air.

Safin sat first and began to set out the small stove that he carried everywhere. Bomo had never been more glad of his friend’s obsession with tea.

—

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The tea was exactly what he needed to keep him awake. Not only was it good and hot, but it was strong and sweet, a heady cocktail of caffeine and sugar to stave off heavy eyelids and the inability to concentrate.

All around him people were laughing, smoking and drinking, and even though he felt slightly left out he also felt incredibly proud to be a part of the people who made it all possible. Even with the fact that he was not really able to party there had been some dancing, some chatting with the people that he only saw once a month but still called his friends, and then there was the time he spent watching her.

Across the garden she was chatting to some people he did not recognise, and there was a good chance one of those men might be thinking the same things about her as he was, but then they were actually talking to her. This was not an unusal moment for him, realising that he was failing to confront things with a woman and assuming that there was no point in trying. He took a breath and finished his tea.

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The old rocking chair out on the porch was moving very gently in the breeze; I could hear it moving behind me. The light was glittering off the lake’s rippled surface, warming my face. The light, like molten gold, trickled into my eyes and somehow calmed my soul.

I had been out at the lake for three days, and I had spent most of it sleeping, but that morning I had awoken feeling fresh and rested for the first time in weeks, and the sun was coming up. There in the April morning all of my troubles melted away; yet in the back of my mind I knew it was respite at best.

Kirsty had been gone for just over a month and I still found myself talking to her over my shoulder, noticing a TV show in the paper that would interest her or just including her in my thinking when something moved me;

“Look at that sunrise, baby. Oh how I wish you could see this.”

On the treeline I heard a noise, and turning to look I saw that a young doe was staring right at me, her deep black eyes shining in the morning light, like obsidian mirrors.

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The photograph is old and cracked now, the corners bent; one is torn off. Even so I take down my copy of The Brothers Karamzov at least once a week and open it to the page where I keep this last touchstone of my Karina.

I remember the day that we met as if it were yesterday. I was looking for an obscure text, a treatise from the nineteenth century about the provenance of the gospels, and I thought myself to be alone on the sixth floor, after all there was never anyone there after six on a Saturday night. I turned a corner between the shelves, into an open area with a study table and there, kneeling by the table with her back to me, head buried between the legs of another girl, was Karina. She looked up, into my eyes, smiled, then simply gestured for me to join her. Of course I did, I was ensorcled. I will never forget the thrill that shot through me when she took my hand and pressed it urgently against her sex, willing me to give her pleasure, as I watched her make love to a woman whose name I never learned.

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This does not yet appear on ficlets.com due to a technical problem with that site and its OpenID login, i.e. I can’t get on the site, logged in.

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This Ficlet was inspired by Kt’s suggestions of a torn photograph, a library and a being interrupted as item, place and activity from the Wednesday poll on my Livejournal.

“Will you shut up? Honestly you really do spout some crap from time to time! I’m not leaving you; what the hell gave you that impression?”

She started to wipe the tears away with the backs of her hands; the panda eyes now became racoon markings. Why was she wearing mascara anyway, we were just ‘about the house’?

“I don’t know Ted. You’ve not come near me all weekend, you are always on that bloody mobile and never in front of me. I think anyone would assume that you were cheating at this point!”

So it was going to be like this; heaven help me.

“I don’t want to spend the whole weekend rutting and you think that there’s something wrong? Jill I spent every night this week trying to get you in the mood; candle-lit dinner to flat out demanding you suck me off, and everything in between. Now, when I’m having a crisis with the event you wonder why I’m not chasing your pussy all over the house? I love you, darling, I’m not leaving, I am not seeing anyone else. Please let me work before we’re living on the street, ok?”

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BANG BANG BANG

He struggled for the land of the awake; it was still dark outside. The room was pitch black. The shock of waking to so much loud noise had left him tangled in the blanket. Knowing this gave him no comfort whatsoever as he tipped face first towards the floor, saving himself from a bloody nose at the very last second, as his shoulder bore the brunt of the fall.

BANG BANG BANG

Someone really wanted to get into the house, and he had a feeling that they were not there to spread good tidings and joy. He disentangled himself, pulled on his breeches and buckled on a sword. He was pulling a shirt on when Gabriel came barrelling into the room, half dressed himself, talking at ten to the dozen;

“Luc! It’s the King’s men. The Pope has conceded to the arrest of all Templars, and they are here for our guests.”

Luc paused for a moment and then, gesturing for Luc to calm down and be quieter said;

“Hide them. There are spaces under the wine casks. I will talk to the soldiers. Now go, and hide their colours as well!”

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This does not yet appear on ficlets.com due to a technical problem with that site and its OpenID login, i.e. I can’t get on the site, logged in.

—

This Ficlet was inspired by the front page of Wikipedia for the 13th of October 2008, in English. The Article was from the “On This Day…” section from the 13th of October 2008 and concerned arrests of the Knights Templar, which began on the 13th of October 1307; you can find out more here.

“What do you want to do today?”

I looked up at her, still a little bleary.

“It’s your birthday. That means you get to decide.”

She was smiling. How could I tell her that I wanted to go to the driving range, spend some time on my allotment and to head down to the pub with John and Harry for a bite and the football? Her smile was filled with expectation that I would want to spend my birthday with her, making love, talking, maybe a romantic walk along the beach that she loved so much we had to move here. I cannot tell you when I had stopped desiring her, stopped filling my time with making her happy, getting her to share her thoughts, wanting her naked, horny and alone at the same time. It just happened. I caught myself trying to work out how I could get her off the subject some romantic weekend away because it clashed with the television coverage of the British Open. Decision time;

“Anything I want?”

I wanted to keep the lie going; I know that I should not have done. I raised an eyebrow and pulled back the sheet.

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“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean, am I sure? Are you kidding me? We’ve been talking about this for weeks! Why are you askin’ me now if I’m sure?”

“Because this is the last chance that you have to back out and I wanted to be sure that you are sure.”

“Look it’s not making me angry, but why do you assume that I’m going to back out of things? I mean if it’s just that you want to make sure that I’m happy then that’s fine, but it feels like you are assuming that I will let you down.”

“Look, let’s not get into that now, okay? I wasn’t trying to suggest that you are going to back out, really. I just wanted you to feel like it was okay, I mean it’s a big deal.”

The mirror was sitting between them, the blade to one side, the light glinting off its sharp edge.

Howard picked up the knife, never once moving his gaze away from Petra, but somehow managing to draw it across his palm and spill a small pool of blood on the mirror. He wiped the blade clean and placed the knife back on the table, hilt to Petra.

“Ok then, your turn.”

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