Heartbreaker

You. Just you. That one, the one, that did exactly what you did. It hurt like hell but that’s, as they say, the way loves goes. A supposed victim of my own inner ideals and idiotic meanderings. One would think that I actually liked the twists and turns of the motion of your emotions.

I don’t, I do not. I never will. I’m a kind person, a caring person, with the upsetting aspect of all of this, being that you’re also the same. I never expected the avenue to, literally, be a dead end. When you mess with a heart it hurts, but this, this very thing, seems to have moved my actual soul.

I know that I’m being dramatic, but there’s that yang to your inner ying that often, simply, wishes for more. A connection. A vibe. A presence within another that bonds directly to yourself. The holding of a hand feels right and, upon a given day, it hurts like hell to let go.

Forced, abjured, the feelings simply strewn across the floor like the broken vase of my dreams. It’s okay, it’s to be said, done, abandoned and moved away from. That heartbreaker. You know what you did. You knew how this would make me feel.

You touched, you adored, you held with such force that my feminine mind gave away my very essence. You said that you adored my scent upon your skin. You stated that you had to have me over and over again yet, upon this very second, you’re nowhere to be seen. Another conquest, another moment, a further wounding glance designed to inflate your never-ending desire to be adored.

It’s all so clear. I could never fall for someone that actually, truly, really cared. The faults and infatuations being all so very clear. I’m broken, with the never-ending loop of trying to mend, yet seemingly doomed to repeat the same, tired, repeating process add infinium.  I know that you thought that you cared for me and, upon a certain level, you did. You just had to have what you wanted and what you wanted, was me.

You did things, said things, explored places that the normal type of man wouldn’t even think of. It’s exhausting, it’s deflating, knowing that you’ll soon move onto your next target of awe. Your dark eyes, the way you move simply turns me on to my very core. I ache for you, desire you. Dream of you. But that’s not enough and nothing ever will be.

I’m sat here, thinking, wondering, trying to escape the situation I’ve found myself within. If it was just sex, then you could have just asked. I know that ‘that’ isn’t the way it works, but right now, with what I know, I’d have happily have let you explore every inch of me with my lips knowing exactly what they were to be used for. You broke a piece of me, broke me in half and opened my very body to something new. Then, once you’d had your desired, erotically induced fantasies played out, you left.

I would feel used but, instead, I’m just sat here wanting you all over my body. It’s evaporating my very sense until I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m spiralling, out of control, gasping for your air to free me. I know that you’ll be back, as you’re addicted to flesh. You’re embraced by the very notion of control. You need to be adored by everyone and everything.

I’m going to try and forget you. Everything about you, as you’re just not worth my time. It’s done. Over. Gone and far away. Yet, you’re still here, inside me, lips kissing my neck and arms holding me in place. I just cannot seem to escape what you’ve done to my living memories. I hate you, but I love you, as you’d freed and chained me at the same time. I want to scream, I want to moan, I want you. I need you. You’re just that heartbreaker I was warned about.

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Buried

Daniel continued digging. Each movement caused his lower back irritation but, for once, he was on a mission and would finish no matter the consequence. Again, the shovel struck the exposed earth, moving, digging, ever further into the soil.

Another clump of earth moved from the wet, sodden ground. He’s started digging twenty or so minutes before the rain started, as he cursed his obvious luck and misfortune. He smirked, understanding, realising, that this was typical for his life. He’d give up, throw the spade to the floor and proclaim his dissatisfaction to the heavens above but, for once in his life, he’d accomplish the task come hell or high water. He laughed a little, realising that high water was closer than he’d ideally prefer.

His arms, aching, continued with their given task. Each instruction from his mind, pushing him forward, but in this instance and task his heart was also incredibly invested towards the outcome of his efforts. Daniel’s frustration, as well as mild anxiety, furthered his anguish. He simply wished to find a solution, a path, or a safety net, all the while knowing that he had little choice but to continue.

He’d made decisions in his life, some bad, mostly good, with only the negative aspects remaining to constantly haunt his waking thoughts. Again and again, his misdemeanours continued to taunt him. If he could run, he’d consider such an option, but he knew that he could never, ever, escape himself.

He continued to dig, nearing his objective with each strike and lift of the shovel. He’d explored many options, spoken to a hundred and one people, with this being his last and final option worth considering. He wanted to be cleansed, to escape the person he was, even though he wasn’t a particularly bad person. A shedding of skin. A renewal. An opus of possible regeneration or, even, just a better version of himself.

He’d read self-help books, the power of the moment, understanding the very notion of how a human being should conduct himself within a living society. He was still denied the silence of a quiet mind, a relaxed mind. As his thoughts invaded his attempted calm, another section of dirt vacated the ground and finally, he was ready.

Daniel dropped the spade, as he fell to his knees. He felt ridiculous, but quickly moved away from such notions. He knew that the mind, let alone a person’s body, could often work in mysterious ways and at this point in his life, he’d try anything and everything. He raised his hands, imagining a wooden box, as he opened the imaginary lid. Within, there sat an empty space. Daniel smiled. He was ready, finally ready to move forward.

The rain splattered around him, over him and into the hole in front of Daniel. He lowered the imaginary box. He then closed his eyes, raising from within him such emotion that he immediately started to cry. He couldn’t hold back any further. His eyes opened as his tears joined the hundreds of raindrops around him. Each tear, landed into the invisible box. Each emotion, be they negative, expressive or even destructive, rose within him.

As the overwhelming feelings sat within his heart, his mind and possibly his soul, he raised his hands to the side of his head and then, with as much energy as he could find, he gestured metaphorically by throwing the energy from within him, into the invisible box. The cleansing of a spirit, the freeing of a soul, the demonstrative capacity of a person willing to grow, shown within the seconds of his life.

Each let down, each loss, each crippling word spoken to another, let alone his own demonising moments, released from his very emotive display. He no longer wished to be held captive and captor to his life. He wished for his words to be kind, to hold and to console him. His heart was gentle, his soul but the weak child of innocence, yet the enclosed cage had started to strangle his very life. Gasping for air, tears still falling, he felt the very weight of his world push against his entire body. The vessel of a person could only hold so much sacrifice, so much sacrilege, before a person’s will would break. Daniel knew all of this, he understood and despite having the very world at his hands, it was not enough. The demons, the devils, the mere thought of returning to the young days of being an innocent child scolded him, squandering the chance to just simply be what he could be.

The wounds of his words were, finally, fully exposed. The rain, the moment, the visually encapsulating box in front of him, allowed the expulsion of so very, very much. He could swear that he could feel his actual soul emptying. The conscience of a man, expunged. The heart of a man, sanctified.

The last tear from within appeared from his right eye and, in that moment, he could see it fall as if the very moments of time had neared the slow sacrifice of existence. The imaginary box, now full. The lid, closing as he thanked his very makers for the chance to humble himself in such a way.

With gentle trembling hands, he lifted the invisible vessel. Placing the box into the ground, he gently placed his left and right hands either side of the hole, to slowly drag dirt into the seemingly empty space. Vanquished. Gone. Hidden and taken from him. As his mind cleared, he continued to place the dirt into the hole. Faster and faster, as the smile appeared upon his face. He didn’t care if it worked or not. He wouldn’t even give that fact a second thought as, in the great scheme of things, the pills hadn’t worked, the friends, the thousand conversations as well as the ten affirmations. He would find his own solution, his own sacrifice if needed, as long as he could survive. All he wanted to do was bury his old life, his sacrifices and failures and, hopefully, keep them buried.

Abuse

Upon the surface I know, we all know, that the outwardly facing world is a picture-perfect reflection of the ideal life. My smiles, my laughter, all reflect the amount of love I feel for that person in my life. We hold hands, we giggle, we wander around the world and the onlookers seem to even be mildly jealous. Picture perfect. We’re matched, meant to be and are far, far more.

When I met you, you said all of the words I wished to hear. The trials and tribulations of your life seemingly overcome, resolved, removed and the wishes and kisses soothing my very soul like no other. I fell so very, very hard for you. I couldn’t wait to hold that hand of yours. To hold you. To have and literally throw myself into the situations we managed to find ourselves. We laughed like no other, buzzing and bouncing around like silly fools.

I remember when the phone would beep and the moments my heart would skip. Each message was but the very smile upon my lips. Your words, your curves, all infecting my soul. I should have known. Perfection can sometimes incur a cost. Many people often wear masks to hide so many, many sides, but that’s often to protect themselves. I understand, I also supposedly understood the thoughts upon such survival techniques.

Then, upon one solitary day, something changed. Ambushed. Unknown. Not quite ready for what happened. You changed or, should I say, you changed when your lips touched your secret addiction. You hadn’t faced your demons at all as, instead, you’d simply hid them within a room of dark secrets and cruel debauchery. The very notion that the sweetest, most innocent person you could ever meet, could change into the cruellest, demonising, destructive person, was something I wasn’t prepared for. Under your very skin, lurked someone that I would never, ever, wish to be anywhere near.

The alcohol turned you, switched you into someone that I simply did not know. You would pick, prod, deflect, blame and patronise. Every opinion thrown from my thoughts would be ridiculed. The coward finally rising from within, intending to destroy the unknowing person sat beside you. Eventually, over time, I realised that the very intention of your hidden side was to break me. Subservience is what you desired. To be better, to tower above me, for some godless reason that I never fathomed until later. I came to understand that love was not worth the anxiety of having every single word scrutinised.

I, eventually, was no longer blameless. My own actions faltered as I tried again and again to change the situation. I was wrong, I failed. I started to change and with each new action, I realised that I was the only person that was managing to do just that, change. I was becoming defensive, argumentative and afraid of each new conversation. Manipulation can be a gradual process. Slow, meandering, clever and most certainly, evil.

Upon a day, you stood in front of me, shouting, asking me, telling me, to hurt you. To hit you. That, upon that very second, explained everything to my simple, silly, mortal soul. If upon that very second, I did as requested, my soul would have been lost and the victory won by your possibly unknowingly twisted mind. I would have been chastised, broken, owned and reviled by every single person that you would have told. That was your intention, the breaking of bones would never be the same as owning another.

Upon almost every single level, hurting the person you love, be that pain physical, emotional or even spiritual, should never, ever, enter a person’s mind. Things happen, people grow apart and eventually have affairs, but that’s just the way of a heart that hasn’t yet found what it truly needs or desires. The pain is often not intentional. Abuse is every single meaning of itself. It’s intentional, avoidable and most certainly not to be accepted within any second of our lives. At least I’m now trained to see the expertly hidden signs of such actions. As mentioned, I’m hardly innocent, but at least I’m honest. I’ll never ‘be’ you, even though you could be anyone. I have no pity or answers, only solutions that would never, ever, have been heard.

I’d like to believe that you simply believed that you were right with all of your words but, seeing as the trends upon your life mimicked themselves with each new partner, I’m afraid that my beliefs would never become truth. A person can be crushed. A person can break and fall, with even the smallest of words eventually provoking fear and dread. The child scorned into remaining silent, awaiting the next episode of revulsion and panic. Two people together can achieve so much, but one person upon their own high-minded chariot, can chastise and corrupt even the strongest of characters.

Abuse is not as clear as I thought it was. Abuse is slow, not always physical and most certainly hidden, hidden behind the sweetest smile and most caring words. I’m one of the lucky individuals that has, thankfully, thoughtfully, witnessed and escaped the verbal abuse of another.

Church

“Tell me, Son, how have you sinned?”

Daniel pressed his back against the wooden frame, exhaling, preparing to exclaim all his deeds of indulgent pleasure. He would have prepared a list but, in the event of such a list being found, he might not be able to raise his head ever again. Sure, the knowing glint would remain within his shallow smirk and dark, deep eyes, but secrets would always remain between thy maker and soul.

He’d been called the filthiest, most disgusting names you could ever imagine, by the vilest villains that hid their own indiscretions behind a veil of lies and deceit. He had laughed at all of them, reminding himself, that he’d selectively chosen a few of the Seven Deadly Sins to scribe and delight his very soul. Maybe they were right. Something within him, had worked its way to the surface, ignoring the gloriously inconspicuous distance between heaven and sin.

The gluttonous greed, the sloth of indifference, encompassed within the vengeful wrath of pride and most of all, beyond all others, the sinning envy of lusciously capacious lust. He could write sonnets, stories above all, as well as paint within the walls of the holiest places. It was okay. Perfectly fine. Above board and most of all, no lies would have been told. He knew that he could sin, without uttering even one wrong from his lips. He was, when confronted, a powerful spectre of a man. He embraced all of it. The strength, the power, the possession of another’s heart, soul and mind.

He was sorry, to an extent, of ignoring the golden scriptures of degeneration. They, simply, no longer worked as intended. The only religion he understood was a body against his. The scriptures would be spoken, said, or even kissed upon a darned soul over and over again. Upon the seventh day, he knew, as he’d witnessed and become part of events, where he truly failed to rest upon that day. No rest, as there would be no assured circumstance for the wicked.

He closed his eyes, looking down towards the wooden floor, realising that he didn’t forgive any of them.  None of them. He’d been the sinner, the recriminator of sorts, throwing asunder the failings of others with the finger pointing of failure. Although he wasn’t perfect, the ideal specimen of frail perfection, he knew exactly what he presented. He had his sins and he enjoyed his visits to hell and back. For a hundred days and upon a thousand nights, he’d feast his lips upon the skin of another without hesitation or remorse. For that, he was called a predator, the freak, the weird one amongst the shadows of plain sight.

Mistaken, miss-understood, the ways of a person placed beside the idiotic nature of how to act and be. It was all a great, big, fundamental mess of burning moments. He needed to speak, to quench his very inquisitive nature upon another’s soul. He needed no answers, as he knew the correct method of traversal. He knew of no knowledge that could repent the actions of life. Satan himself, when called upon, when risen within his bones and body, would sanction such a person to live upon the mortals of debauchery and repugnant notions.

Daniel smiled, his eyes still closed, as he replied, “Oh Father, you have no idea! Let me tell you… everything.”

The storm within him had showered his very nature for many, many years and as his eyes turned to a blood red shade of fear and agony, he knew that it was time, the time, to go to Church.

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Dancing

Daniel looked out of the car window, imagining, thinking, finding any possible reason to escape the boredom. His young mind usually found something elaborate, an alien invasion, a chase, an escaped rhino or, even, just the thought of flying. That imagination of his, remaining vibrant, still free and not yet under the grip of online gaming. He looked up to the sky as raindrops started to fall. Rain.

He smiled as each new drop hit the side of the car’s window. He immediately wanted to join them together with a pen or pencil. Join the dots, within a real-life scenario. Instead, seeing as he’d probably get into trouble, he decided to press his tongue against the window.

“Dan, please don’t lick the window!” exclaimed his Mother, knowing exactly what Daniel was doing from the corner of her eye.

“Sorry Mum,” he replied, “I’m just seeing how cold the rain is!”

She shook her head, her eyes buried deep into the latest parts store catalogue. The single Mother, the one that did it all, despite whatever life threw her way. Stopping for a second, she lifted her head to see a well-known figure within the community. Mr. Franklin approached the car, walking or, should she say, dancing once again in the rain. She smiled, knowing exactly why he seemingly danced every single time it rained.

She glanced at Daniel who, obviously being an inquisitive soul, immediately noticed the dancing man and she knew that a question was incoming.

“Mum, why is that man dancing?”

She continued smiling, as she curled over a corner of the catalogue’s page and closed it. She knew that a young mind would easily understand what she was about to say, but words would have to be used sensibly to escape a further ten questions.

“You know when Mummy wants you to go to bed at eight, and you fidget, cringle, moan and complain?”

Daniel shook his head from side to side, playing the innocent role.

“When I do manage to get you into bed, you feel sad and just want to keep on playing!  Mr. Franklin is the kind of person to not make a fuss. If he was asked to go to bed early, he’d smile and rush to bed!”

“Why?” asked Daniel, a bit confused as to why someone would willingly do such a thing.

“Mr. Franklin knows that time spent fussing, fighting and complaining, is time thrown away. The sooner you get to bed, the sooner you can wake up and start playing again! Do you understand?”

“Yes. But why is he dancing in the rain?”

“That’s an easy question to answer. It’s easy to be happy when you’re playing, or the sun is shining, but the real challenge is dancing when you’re asked to do something that you don’t want to do, like going to bed early,  or when life is difficult or you feel sad! If you can dance and be happy even when everything isn’t perfect, then you can still enjoy life without the sunshine.”

Daniel nodded, his inquisitive little face more or less understanding why the man danced in the rain.

“Does that mean I can dance in the rain as well?”

His Mother shook her head, “No, not right now, but maybe when you’re older!”

Eternity

She stepped into the room, tentative, knowing exactly what to expect. Placing her lower back onto the wooden set of drawers in front of the window, she straightened the long skirt to ensure she looks perfectly presentable. Today was the very day that her entire life changed. For better, for worse, forever being the very offering upon her thoughts.

She cleared her throat, blinking a few times, knowing very well that he would hear her. If she were honest, he knew that she had arrived immediately, her scent being one of the many, many things that he enjoyed. Her eyes moved over the room, as she admitted that she loved the way he kept everything sparse, the barren feeling filled with barely any trinkets or keepsakes. Besides, his personality more than filled the room.

He entered from the kitchen, shirtless as usual, his trousers hanging from his hips, exposing his taut frame. One would assume that he’d planned such an entrance, knowing that they had not seen each other for months. He stopped, staring at her, his eyes lighting the room. She felt her heart skip a few beats, the butterflies appearing the moment his eyes met hers. That indefinable, emotional recipe that needed no definition.

For all of his presentable, seductive charm, he really, really kept himself in shape. He was, overall, a gentle character, intelligent, with an almost insidious, naughty, flirtatious laugh that immediately turned her on. He had that boyish charm, whilst being the most serious person she knew. The weight of his world, neither apparent or thrown forward, as such a lecherous tool to lure an emotional soul towards him. Layered, sensible, a man that she could respect. He didn’t partake in any such dramas of the modern world, despite being a figure from most ages.

Her body spoke to her, quietly, nudging her to take in the view. He was physically strong, with a frame that wasn’t just for show. She would know, as the things he’d done to her with his body would make the sternest lady blush. He’d held her down within his bed, their bed, her bed, as well as every wall within this very room. Her fingertips, let alone lips, couldn’t keep themselves away from him. She’d try to fight it, but when the object of your every desire was stood in front of you, it would be rude to not allow yourself to quench every single wanton thirst.

He was, to her, everything. If there were a cure to be found, she’d never wish to receive the answer. After the others, she’d never have thought that she’d find someone so damn good at what he did. Each time she left, her life felt energised to the point that he’d become addictive. Every thought involved him. His words, his thoughts upon her own, his hand within hers and his lips telling her everything her body had always wished to hear. It wasn’t so much lust, as she had more than enough common sense to avoid such a trivial physical emotion, it was more of a deep desire that had taken over her entire person. She ached for him. A sustenance unlike any other she’d known, and that was before they’d even begun to exchange life knowledge.

He remained motionless, completely still, as his gaze happened upon her presence. He looked at every single inch of her body, from the ground up. She was, more than any other individual prescribed from his entire life, his very desire and purpose. He’d also tried to deny it, over and over again, upon each of the nights where he’d sated his needs within her. He’d stood in silence, for hours, trying to rationalise his adventurous thoughts. He couldn’t fight it and, if he were honest, he never should have even tried. No force in the world would ever stop two people, once they wanted each other, be that want physical, emotional or spiritual.

His body responded to his obvious desire, as he cursed his male anatomy for being so obvious. After he’d held her against him a hundred times, his body instinctively wanted her more than any other within his quiet, lonely, vacant world. She was the answer to the endless bleak nights. She would be the questionable answer to becoming more than he’d ever envisioned becoming.

From his perspective, he didn’t wish to just make love to her, or fuck her, he found that each moment would be an emotional journey. Fear, loss, acceptance and desire. It wasn’t enough to just have her, as she meant more than those moments. He’d listened to a hundred thousand of her spoken words. He had witnessed her describe heartbreak, loss, another love and the very pressure she felt within her worldly travels.

He stepped forward, slowly, knowing very well what was about to happen. Some things in life were, and would always be, inevitable. He studied the shape of her features, as well as hair against the sides of her face. She was, to his eyes, the most beautiful creature he’d ever known. From all of his years, through all of his pain and suffering, she calmed the beast within him.

Her eyes couldn’t move away, even if she wished to look elsewhere. His presence simply awakened something deep within her. That primal experience that she’d never, ever known before. His lips, his body, the eyes, the arch from his back, the way he pressed himself against her, all spoke the volumes of why he was perfect. For her. Only her. By this point in time, he’d passed degrees of study upon her body, becoming something of legend upon her skin and needs. His acts, made her respond in only the manner to which they would count. A woman would only ever know the fire within, once she met the right man to keep the fire burning day and every single night.

Seconds filtered as if the hands of time were at play, those hands mostly slowing to the point where the room seemed to stand still. Her breathing had become quite shallow, broken, as he stood in front of her. An Inch away, face to face, as she felt his exhaled life upon her lips.

“Hello!” she said with a cracked voice.

“Hiya.” He replied.

She didn’t really wish to talk and, by the looks of him, neither did he. With a thirst that couldn’t possibly be described, he bridged the small distance between them by moving his arm around her and pressing his lips to hers. With intense greed his lips moved over her and she, recovering quickly from the moment, responded in kind. His body rested against hers, his need being obviously felt against her waist. If his kisses were not so distracting, she’d allow her body’s silent screams to permit her to immediately want him inside of her.

He could barely contain his desire for her, his body encompassing his growing energy, as his animal side started to take control. He had to be careful, to be considerate to her body. She, thankfully, had little time to complain about bites and bruises. She even, enthusiastically, encouraged his animalistic nature to take over. There was no agenda within their room. He was there to take her, to have her, to enjoy her and to provide her with everything she needed. The woman, the man, the simple equation of need, want and resolution.  Everything else, would be attended to after the fact.

Stepping back a small step, his glaring eyes saying all they needed to say, as he reached forward to grab her dress. She knew what he was about to do and, of course, she thoroughly enjoyed every second. She watched as his arms prepared themselves and then, in one instant, he tore her dress apart. The rip stretched all the way down the middle and, if she were again being honest, she’d swear that he would buy her clothes just to destroy them. Her lingerie flashed into view, with his visible lingerie being his very skin wrapped around all of his hard, dedicated work.

His desire increased as the sight of her near naked body influenced his mind. He growled, ever so softly, as he once again wrapped his arm around her. With a swift motion, she moved her legs around his waist, as he carried her to the other side of the room. They kissed again, the intense need growing around each of them, the increasing purpose within edging the conclusion closer and closer. She held him tightly against her with her arms and legs, knowing exactly how much it drove him wild.

His mind had gone, the animal within taking over his very senses, as he stepped onto the sofa chair, placing her back to the wall. She smiled, knowing very well that being fucked against a wall, let alone halfway up a wall, was something that she’d mentioned upon her previous visit. He was, after all, more than willing and strong enough to pacify every one of her desires.

His hips moved away from hers, allowing her hand just enough room to adjust him, ever so slightly, as she raised herself to place him inside of her. As she moved over him, he again growled, knowing that she had him from the very moment they’d met. The need, marginally sated. The want, increasing as she felt all of him.

With a flash of memory, as his thoughts momentarily pushed aside his animalistic state, his mind filled with images of the very moment they’d met. Years previous, in Rome, they’d noticed each other upon a small midnight boat trip. He seemed to be within his own world to notice her, brooding as usual, to which she had decided to have a little wine to work through to her adventurous side. All it took was a small word and, all at once, he’d looked at her in such a way that made her legs weak and her cheeks blush. She’d never experienced such a first look. Or second. Or third. The depth behind those eyes captured her in a way that was unknown and, eventually, she had found out why.

She felt him move within her, thirsty, thrusting up and down, until he probably reminded himself that there was no need to rush. He slowed his vigour, his very need subsiding to a more normal rhythm. Their lips had barely stopped moving against each other until this very second. His energy seemed to encompass her, with every single inch of his skin feeling like silk against her very touch.

They both smiled, knowing, understanding, that some things were always meant to be inevitable between two people. No compromises, no regrets, no other requirements other than to feel each other over, as well as under, each other again and again. As the rhythm slowed, she started to gently press her lower stomach against his, finding, searching, wanting what she needed from him. He joined her in her search, as his movements become slower, controlled, pressing himself against her.

He knew what she really wanted and, for the second time since they’d met, he needed to taste her as much as she needed to be tasted. The pressure grew within her, her legs starting to shake ever so slightly, as his concentrated movements pleased her inner need. He knew that he shouldn’t, that it was against his every wish, but he needed her more than he’d ever wish to acknowledge.

Her lips opened, the moans sounding within his ears, as she gave in to his carnal desire. He allowed the moment. He permitted her to encompass his thoughts and, once again, he would digress from the stable path of life. His head moved back, his body flexing every single muscle possible, as her desire grew at the very thought of the impending moment. Her eyes opened, her body letting go of all restrictions as she came over his pressured movements.

As he heard her moans of pleasure, the quickened moment hastened his transformation and, as his canine teeth enlarged and lowered by a few millimetres, he growled more and more. He was finally free, again, to take as he wished. He looked into her beautiful, tempting eyes and she, trusting his next actions, witnessed his very eyes becoming the colour of pure darkness. He had held a King’s crown within his blood-soaked hands. He had sobbed uncontrollably upon the very days, the loves of his lives passed away within his very arms. He would, upon this very day and moment, break his own cardinal rule to escape his lifetime’s torture of being all but solitary.

He moved forward and bit her neck, piercing her skin as she felt her very blood spurt out from within her body. His thrusts became rampant, needing her to the point of abandoned restrictions. She held onto him as hard as she could as he growled over and over again, filling himself with her life blood, as he, at the same time, came within her with such force that she could feel every single inch moving.

She, once again, exploded over him as the pacified pain met her every thought. Fucked from one end and fed upon, from the other. She’d never known any man within her life to want her as much as he, truly and obviously, wanted her. Her entire body shook as the convulsions spread throughout. She could feel his lips sucking the blood from her very body, tasting her, washing himself with her very life.

As her mind regained a semblance of sanity through the pain and pleasure, she asked the question again, begging him, pleading with him, to make them one,

“Please, just do it! You know why!”

He stopped feasting upon her blood, her neck, as his lips lifted themselves from her. Gently, he removed himself from her neck, licking a splattering of blood as his eyes moved to face hers.

His entire jaw, covered in her blood, made her soul seemingly shiver, as her desire grew that little bit more. She could see that he was conflicted, his animal side fully in control, as his rational mind tried to fight through the haze, to find some semblance of sanity. He growled a little, realising that it made sense and yet, as he knew, the results of such a moment would last forever.

“I… you know the consequences!”

She nodded her head, placing a hand to the side of his face,

“I know. I do!”

He growled again, his thoughts shattered, as he once more, began a small transformation. She knew the ramifications of what was about to happen, but a lifetime with this very man was what she wanted. Her life would, literally, be within his hands. If he died, she would die.

She watched as another smaller set of canine teeth moved from within his gum line. It hurt him, the pain expressed across his face, knowing very well that he’d only ever been here once before in his entire life. He looked at her, ready, tentatively willing to give in to both of their needs, wants and soul desires.

“So be it!” he said, with the certainty expressed within his words. The final moment was upon the both of them as he, once again, devoured the side of her neck. The pathogen, released from within him, would take but seconds to infect her body. He moved his mouth away from her, as she started to convulse uncontrollably. Her heart, with her chest, expanded ever so slightly until, suddenly, it stopped.

He moved from the wall, stepping down from the chair, holding her against him. Her decision, final, as his soul searched for remorse. He found none, the ultimate choice belonging to her, with every single detail being offered over and over again before this night. Her eyes screamed in pain, as his own eyes betrayed his inner disappointed thoughts. The curse of his world would now, as well as forever, be hers to hold. The last breath left her body, as the life within her eyes faltered. He held her head and pressed his cheek to hers, the fear within appearing through his thinly veiled wall of solitude, denial and acceptance. There was always the chance that she wouldn’t survive the transformation but that, as he knew, might have been a blessing for her. An eternity alone, a peace within his soul, aroused by her very nature and form. No man could ever deny the need to stand beside another, no matter the cost of their pride, presumption and idiotic denial.

Seconds flittered away, the silence deafening, as he kept the moments of panic at bay. Her heart no longer required, while her body transforming into something new. From the silence, he heard a brief murmur as she returned to him. Not quite alive, but nowhere near death. He moved his cheek from hers, his relief obvious and, as she smiled, he returned her smile. He would curse his decision, bemoan his selfish inclination, but the truth of the words within his combined heart and soul, would be that some people were meant to be together.

“For Eternity, you said?”

“I did. For Eternity!”

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Miracle

Sandra opened her eyes, the groggy feeling immediately making her feel sick as well as disorientated. Immediately, as the ceiling started to focus into view, she heard the soft beeping of the medical machines around her. She’d seen the inside of many a hospital, so this wasn’t an immediate shock, especially as the last two times she’d managed to wake she’d been within a similar room. She blinked a few times, asking the fog within her mind to move away or, even, vanish altogether.

Pressing her hands onto the bed, she ever so slowly moved backwards onto the pillow. Her body felt stiff, as the tightness around her chest stopped her movements. To her side, sat a card with words written in red ink. The words simply said, ‘Dear Leftie’.

She reached across and gently picked up the card. She knew it was from him, her beloved ‘Rightie’. Slowly, she turned the card and lifted the flap. She removed the folded paper, unfolded it and turned to see the words. She started to read, knowing that she’d soon find out what had happened.

Dear Leftie,

Right now, you’re probably more than a little confused. I would be, but rest assured that I’m closer than you realise. I’m there with you right now, today and always. Maybe not fully in body, but in spirit and helping you each and every single day.

I hope that you’re okay, that your body is being kind to you, as over the last few days you’ve been through so much and you probably won’t ever know exactly what happened. Instead of giving you all of the details, which I’ll leave to others, I’m here to complete my life’s work. I’m here to give you the last two miracles that I said I would.

Miracle 1:

I know you remember ‘that’ day. I said that I’d perform three miracles for you, while we’re together or, even, apart. I usually stick by my word and upon the same day I stated my idea, I actually performed the first miracle of the three. Your face was a picture.

I kind of knew what I had in mind for two of the miracles, but upon the day you read this, you’ll realise that there has been three. Just to remind you, as I often do, I grabbed your water and ran off. With a giant smile, I returned with wine. Miracle number one was turning water into wine. The ultimate cheese filled miracle that only a woman like yourself would love and, speaking of love, we knew that we were right for each other from that very moment.

Miracle 2:

This miracle would be the hardest miracle that I’ve ever accomplished within my entire life. It will cause pain, tears and anguish, but eventually understanding will appear and you’ll hopefully accept my act for what it was… love. I love you with all of my heart and because of that, because I know that you will live on and bring life into the world, I’ve given you, literally, my heart. My heart beats slower than yours, which will hopefully bring you more time, more life, more moments to share as you move forward in the world. I know that you’ll be confused, but I will always be a part of you from this point forward. There was a choice, there were few options and I, unashamedly, chose to give my life for yours. This was miracle number 2. My life would have little meaning without you, so I chose, right or wrong, to always be a part of you.

Miracle 3:

When I met you, you had lost faith in the very meaning of the word, ‘love’. There are men that can make you laugh, there are men that can make you smile and there are men that will understand every single second of your life. Especially what you’ve been through. There are men that will hold your hand and weather any storm, instead of taking the easiest road away from the hard times. I’m the reminder, the person that chose to stand next to you through hell and high waters. You’re the reason why my own faith was restored. Standing next to you made me the proudest person alive. I had a reason to live and a reason, to leave. We can find a thousand reasons as to why we should die for someone, but you were the one reason for living. Please excuse my painful exit from your life, but as you know, I had to ensure that you stayed around for me to complete my miracles. This was Miracle 3. We both believed in something more than our single, solitary existence.

A bonus miracle would be for keeping my word.

Please promise me that you’ll not cry for too long. Please promise me that you will move forward with your life. I’m with you each step of the way. Each beat is for you. Each time you close your eyes you can hear me moving you forward. Please, promise me that you won’t break my heart. You are the only miracle that I’ve ever wanted, and I am more than I’ll ever be, when I’m with me.

You are my miracle.

Love, my heart, always.

P.s. Lefties and Righties together, forever, holding each other steady.

Sandra closed her eyes, knowing exactly what had happened. The pain within her soul ached for him. The understanding within knew what type of person he was and although it did hurt beyond any words or comprehension, she accepted the miracles. He kept his promise and that alone, was the best miracle she could ever have wished for.

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Breath

She inhaled, slowly, trying to gather control of her emotions. The last few days, weeks, maybe even months, had been so very, very hard for her soul. She often wondered if she had a soul, based on the type of people she attracted.

Pressing the phone power button, she placed the phone onto the small bedside table and relaxed into the bed. Still breathing, still excising, permanently aware of the way she felt. With each breath, she exclaimed prophetic affirmations within her mind. ‘The world gives me energy’, she said to herself, with the next words expelling her negative emotions, ‘Bad thoughts are leaving me’. Again and again, she repeated the mantras.

The pressure, the pain, the anxiety waiting upon the edges of her mind, asking for any reason to invade her sobriety of illegal thoughts. She couldn’t help herself. That blank canvas, the unwritten scripts, the unsung songs, all painted, wrote and screamed their motives to her as clear as the morning sun.

Another breath, as her mind escaped for the briefest second, to his lips. His defying, dangerous, dubiously delicious lips that had kept her up all through many, many nights. He’d teased her, enthralled her desire to the very breaking of her points of view. Reserved, defined, refined, the stoic, level-headed heiress of knowledge and learned understanding. Nothing escaped her view, her thoughts. Defiant until the end, until that person appeared just to the side of her view, stepping through her defences.

All it took, to fall, were carefully placed words and ever so expertly crafted kisses. He’d spoken to each and every single part of her frame, that skin of hers, amongst his sexually riled motives. A smile here, a laughter filled moment there, all wrapped around the most orgasmic feelings she’d ever reproached in her entire life. When one was bored, one would succumb to the wildest excursions ever imagined. It was inevitable, scribed upon her very lust filled breaths.

He’d taken it all. Her vanity, expunged. Her guile, removed. All of her imaginary standings within life, were swept aside in the gust of seeing herself tainted in such a manner. There was no place for dignity when sat upon his lips, as they caressed and encompassed her very wants. She’d never even realised how much she could yearn for someone to be within her.

She threw away the thoughts, cast them to the side, reflecting upon the silence she craved. If such a moment could be purchased, she’d gladly open her purse as quickly as she’d allowed him into her life. She’d exclaim from upon the highest building, that he had not broken her resolve but, of course, that would be a lie.  She knew that it was the same for all of them, no matter which side any of them sat.

She placed her head into her hands, her knees moving to support her elbows, as she rubbed her face. He was, overall, a heartbreaker that knew exactly what he was doing. A beautiful lie. She couldn’t even help herself, as he informed her of no lies. He didn’t cross the communicative barrier of hope and relational glory. He’d just done what he’d done and opened a part of her to a place that she needed to find. It was glorious, a tragic, spectacular series of events.

Exhaling once more, affirming affirmations exclaiming their value, she felt her heart attempt to find rest. She’d be okay. She’d find salvation within her own mind and moments. It was, after all, a learning experience, just like the other moments within her life and right now, all she had to do, was learn to once again breath on her own.

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Illusion

Daniel, fingers tapping on the table, simply looked at the man in front of him. The man was an odd-looking man, with an almost triangular face, his thin pointed chin strutting forward away from his mouth. If anything, Daniel thought that the man belonged in some kind of circus as his act, for one, was most convincing.

“Who are you?” asked Daniel. As he waited for the answer, he reminded himself of the conversation they’d just had. The man, appearing from nowhere, offered him two choices. The man had started to explain about parents. There were, according to this strange individual, two types of parents in the great scheme of things.

The first parent wished for peace. The ever loving, caring, doting parent that simply wanted harmony. The perfect home, the perfect life, the ideal setting and the most pretentious set of circumstances that simply had to be obeyed. The smiles abound, the perfection apparent, until you wanted to do things your way.

The rules were set. Cast in stone. It was their way or no way at all. The wrath incurred ensured obedience; the zero-tolerance apparent from every single word. You had to play nice, be nice, eat the sweet cherry pie and be on time. Every. Single. Time.

The vengeance and scolding venom, upon a day when you veered off track, would ensure that thought and freedom be removed from every single part of a person’s life.

The second parent would value freedom, above all. You could play, hurt your knee and learn from your mistakes. You’d be protected, to a certain point, but above all you’d learn to think on your own two feet. Adaptable, clever, opinions being formed from facts as well as gut feelings. You would be pushed to improve, yet the pushing would come from within your own heart, soul and mind. You would be cheered on, but also hugged if failure rose within your life.

There would be sadness, arising from the bravest of souls, but you’d learn that life would not always feature cherry pie, as the best would be made from any situation. Be that situation good, bad, or the ugly. You would be free. Free to fail, to fall, to prosper or be whomever you would prefer to be.

There would be rules, but rules could sometimes be broken, if your free-thinking mind thought it possible. You could question, you could discuss, without retribution, cancellation or strife.

The two choices, clear as a bell, as free as a whistle. As Daniel’s mind really thought about the two choices, he also wondered why he had to choose in the first place. Both could exist side by side but, as with many things, the more venomous side usually tried to control the other.

The strange man leant forward, whispering his answer, “You all know me. I’m the Beast, the Evil One, The Devil, Lucifer, Satan and my own personal favourite, the Accuser!”

Daniel let out a short chuckle, deciding to play along.

“Okay, fair enough! What happens if I don’t choose a side?”

The Devil smiled an insidiously creepy smile, his decayed teeth suddenly appearing amongst the apparent shine from his evil looking eyes,

“Well, my boy, do you truly believe that you’ve ever had a choice? From the moment you were born, most of your decisions have been made for you. You were born into unknowing servitude!”

Daniel’s head moved ever so slightly to the side, confused, as the man continued.

“No matter what type of parent you are, or which side you’re on, or where your point of view sits, the illusion is making you think that you ever had a choice to begin with!”

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Disorder

Charmeine curled her wings around her body, shielding herself from the night’s cold. Sat, upon the highest mountain, she reflected upon her recent thoughts. She was, for all intents and purposes, the Angel of harmony. The together Angel, the ever-apart Angel, meant to bring people together or, sadly, to tear them apart when the time arrived.

She adored peace and tolerance, the togetherness of two becoming one or, possibly, the chance of harmony within society. She closed her eyes, unable to deflect the sadness within her heart. The Human race was adrift. Mother’s against Sons. Father’s against Daughters. The disharmony of the many minds being twisted for the evillest of intentions.

She was used to healing hearts, soothing the breaks and pains formed within, yet she knew not the way to heal and harness harmony for the current events. Mass Media had, finally, consumed the hearts and minds of the many, controlled by the few that were far between. The Angels were restricted, banned for eternity, from meddling within the affairs of man and yet, somehow, the greatest evil imaginable had crept amongst them as they slept. The spoken word, the written syllable, used of evil incarnations. The pen, once seen as mightier than the sword, had become more powerful than the very soul of a man or woman.

The infection had spread, the cancerous notifications pacifying the weakest of hearts and minds. The human race, the humanity within each of them, secretly wishing for peace. The price, too high. The result, pacification. They had accepted the spoken word without question, the masses chastising the few that questioned. She’d stood within the times of Witches and Warlocks. She’d known the time where any Woman that spoke a word out of turn, would be called a witch and burned to a crisp. This, however, was far, far worse. The cancellation of a human being becoming a fate worse than death itself.

She placed her fingers onto the ground, as the soil seethed and smoked upon her touch. The very surface of the Earth, tainted and poisoned by the years of destruction ravaging the tree lines. The insects, the animals, all cast aside for the ever need for expansion. A new cinema, a new parking lot, or the latest fad to later be cast aside and forgotten. She knew that the earth eventually reclaimed discarded land, the soft soil speaking volumes to her very soul, but the balance had started to tip ever further towards desolation.

The Human Race hadn’t changed over the centuries. The same fears, the same base instincts, the many following the few. She wished to scream, to shout, to smash their houses until they knew real fear. The children held against her chest upon the awakening of their race, had become insolent. Their impudence betrayed their meek and weak-willed nature. They had, for what it would be worth, forgotten how to really suffer.

She stood, her wings unfolding, her eyes glistening to the tune of a thousand sparkling lights from the cities below. She stood, proud, respectful, no longer allowing her own anger and solace to infect her thoughts. They would stand and fall upon their own knees. They would eventually look towards the heavens, weeping tears of pain and sobriety upon their final days.

Her wings moved and, with a gentle hop, she flew into the air with the speed of a thousand jet engines. Hearts called to her, hearts willing to be joined upon a night of unity. This was her task, her ever destiny, upon this universe and emotional plane. She’d known a thousand versions of this place, she’d seen a hundred worlds burn, over and over again. This place, their hearts, had so far stood the test of time. The precipice was close, but not close enough to avoid. She’d overthrow their governments, stamp upon the faces of deceit and emotional gluttony, but that would again cause devastation of another kind.

The human race believed themselves to be divine. A race upon the very heavens above. The creations of gods. They were, to their basic level, animals and all animals were, in one way or another, ruled by the cowardly and deceitful villains set within any story. The day to day, the ever-stale happenings of each life, never to be broken or set free. Anarchy be rained upon them, if they knew that they were but specs within the universe of souls.

Charmeine slowed her flight as two individuals appeared upon her eyes. They walked with slow, calm, steps. The lovers, the stars above lighting their way, as she smiled upon them. Their blessings were assured until, upon a given day, one of them succumbed to their greed, impudence, idolatry, enmity, jealousy, resentment or sexual immorality. The sins of the ages, infecting more and more as their Mass Media ensured social decay and disorder.

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Blank

The rest of the story, the history of ages and the wealth of events before this very moment, were all distant spoken words and actions. None of that mattered and, often, never did after the present events unfolded into waking seconds. He was ready, willing, the exploratory method and possible madness of his motivations moving him ever forward. He had waited patiently and now, finally, he would have what he’d wanted for the longest of smiles.

Casually, effortlessly, he placed himself between the legs and lowered his head. His lips, wanting, waiting, eager to please, prepared themselves for what was ahead.  Such a task, an ever-willing patience to please, his lips parted, as his hands found what they needed to find. He tasted the distance between them, the void soon to become nothing more than space.

His tongue moved and, as he gently flicked, the picture of his imagination became real. The start of something new, the bridging of two people, forming another connection amongst the many already formed. He flicked again, his strokes becoming more than before. He knew that he had to be patient. All good things, as they said, would come to those that knew what they were doing. Practised, established, the confidence sounding from within the calm.

He moved his head, ever so slightly, to the side. His eyes, looking up and over to see her staring into his. She was that heavenly creature. The imperfect perfection, that he’d wanted for the longest of imaginary moments. Her breasts, taunting him, the curves yet to be scribed upon his page of creation. His mind screamed for him to complete the task at hand, but the ever-present notion of patience once again, reminded him to find his calm.

He knew, more than most, that there was an ideal image for everyone. That person, the heart that caressed and cajoled. She was here, in front of him, still, expectant, and more than willing. He could see her smile grow as he moved. Up, down, the variation forming. His heart, finding calm, as he placed his every thought into making the moment happen. He gripped the left leg and squeezed ever softly, as a reminder, to ground himself upon the revelation of events.

There were gifts within the world, moments that were more than the mortal passing of a fleeting affection. There was love, that created life within the strife of a person’s daily thoughts. She’d fuelled his desire to be more than he could ever be. The pride, the respect, the sheer vibration from her obvious smile, filling him with such strength that he, for once, knew exactly what he was meant to be. What he was made for. The holding of a hand should never, ever, be taken as a light transitory gift. It was special, glowing, magical and not just meant for Kings and Queens.

He moved again, keeping the rhythm, the steady pace as his lips again passed his intentions onto her canvas of purity. She wanted to move, to thrash around, to lose herself, but he had given her the strict instructions of obedience, when he was undertaking such a task. She, gladly and thankfully, agreed to abide by his seductive instructions.

As the seconds moved, they could both feel the conclusion approaching. His heart beat faster as, finally, he finished his masterpiece. He leant back, letting go of the leg, more than happy at the spectacles in front of his moving eyes. His heart slowed, as his emotions flowed within him. He nodded, allowing her to move from the setting. She approached, cautious, excited, the mystery soon to unfold. With her hands pressed together, in front of her mouth, she looked around the easel and, as her hands dropped, her shock and impressed emotions poured forward.

He had, after all of the years waiting, finally painted a picture of perfection upon a blank page.

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Love

There is a love so gentle, so precious, that the arms that hold us are but the same essence and texture of a rose petal. The binds, the ones that are bold, caress and cajole your heart towards a measured meeting of affection. I say not the words that you need to hear as, instead, my warmth will meet all needs. All requirements. All of the tender kisses.

Love.

You see, of course, that many of us either have a dream filled view of love, or are ever so slightly tainted by the experiences that we have been taught. The happy moments of mesmerising bliss, the stroking of our emotions by another while, at the same time, returning affection whilst common sense escaped.

Love is cruel, poetically twisted, by more than one person within this world. When it’s good, when it’s appreciated and reciprocated, it can be so very uplifting. That bonding, the energy, the smiles and holding hands filling our lives with that needed security. We’re stained by the other person, their hands and kisses changing our very skin as well as thoughts.

Then, from nowhere, love turns into something else. Something almost evil. That twisted thing where your mind rips you apart and you go through the ever so obvious emotions. Love is a gift that you give to another person and, if you take the very nature of love, you would be happy for another when they wished to leave. Yeah, I know, madness. Society still has, possibly, the hardest lesson of all to learn. Love is love. It’s supposed to be pure, giving, endless and not even remotely selfish.

We can take something so beautiful, so amazing, to then turn it into words of hurt and pain. Human beings are selfish. We know this. We need, we want, we never wish to be left but that is the way of the world. If you love someone, truly, deep down, with every single part of your heart, soul and mind, you would not ask questions, scream, pull the heavens down from the very sky above as you, instead, would simply accept. Cry, find your tears, but that’s for your private time and moments.

Some of us can be with one person for all our lives, but the likelihood of that happening in our throwaway society… is slim. We grow as people, as individuals and couples. We, eventually, find new interests and drift. It is natural. Hold. Support. Be all you can be and then, when the decision is made, respect that decision. We are all individuals and if we are mentally stable, we can endure the passing of a love. Most of us have done this. Most have lived through the pain.

However, instead of being calm, we spit venom, demeaning the other person to a state of near hatred. How dare someone love a person and then leave. How dare the truth suddenly change into a lie. We twist, manipulate, shout and scream and inform others. This is not love. It will never, ever, be love.

Love is not hatred due to loss. Love is not sending message after message without realising the mental damage they inflict (Which I myself have done… but will never do again). Love is not supposed to be selfish. Love is… not love unless you make it just that. Unfortunately, many of us have been tortured by love’s rose filled idiocy of magical dreams and fairy tales. The movies sell you a dream, as we never truly learn how to live with the lie.

Love is holding the hand of someone special. Love is being free. Love is embracing the world for what it is. Love is understanding another person’s point of view. Love is holding your pillow, as you scream into the night, while also wishing the best for another. Love is understanding that those messages, above, are simply pain and not to be taken as anything else. Love is crying your eyes out and not being mean. Love is… love.

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Written 03.06.2020

One

If there was one place upon this very world, that you could go to right now, where would it be?

Maybe you’d travel to an island covered in volcanic sands, the warmth upon your feet instilling the very calm presence that you need right now, as well as those tropically frilly presented drinks you like. Upon the island you’d meet a friend, that would teach you renewed adventures, and to smile that little bit more than you’re used to.

Maybe you’d visit that last remaining place within your dreams, the far away destination that has haunted your thoughts, and described your desires for the longest of times. Upon a marbled path, towards a mountain destination, you’d find your faith in humanity and scribe your very first and, possibly, last poem.

Maybe you’d fall away from society to become something that you’d always wanted to become. That saviour, the hero, the miracle masterpiece of magnificent majesty. The king or Queen upon the very cards to be presented within the gamble of life and luxury.

Maybe you’d gather the option of the streamlined adventure. The hilltop paradise, the crazy coloured sports machines, that thrust your thirst for adventure into the fast lane. The fancy clothes, that would never oppose your ideals of a perfect destination for your soul.

Maybe you’d spend a day with that loved one that had their time taken from them far, far too early. You’d embrace that person, you’d cry, you’d explain and exclaim all of the words and emotive gestures hidden deep within. You could then transcend the then, to the perfect, present of now.

Maybe you’d escape to a cave of angels, the time of such fantasy events that may, or may not, have ever existed. The transcendent epiphany, of knowing the very secrets of the world and race of humanity. Your eyes would widen, and your soul would find the enlightened choir of life itself.

Maybe you’d simply rest upon the biggest boat within existence itself. You could fish for your true meaning, embracing the silence, as your mind filled the sky with the wonders of every single word you’ve ever wished to scream at the top of your wishes.

Maybe we’d find each other and spend the week laughing about the how’s, the whys, the won’t and will of our existence. We could hold hands, then exclaim the madness of society and wonder of being blind drunk whilst naked and running through a field of corn.

Maybe you would close your eyes, to imagine your very heart resting upon your soft, working, weary fingers. You would listen, and it would whisper a story of how the world was transitory and that you should be as free as you can possibly be.

If there was one place within this very world of ours, that you could go to right now, where would it be? Or, honestly, would you simply, easily, just stay right where you are. After all, where you are is made from all of the places, faces, embraces and disgraces that you’ve been, seen, or been a part of. One life, one moment, one smile and more than one chance to visit wherever you choose.

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Meaning

Frank sipped the fine blend of gin from the glass, enjoying the silence and warmth of the real fire across from him. Calm, reflective, not holding onto any thoughts that might disturb that preciously focussed time of his evening. Normally, he’d have been out in the garden, the taxi driver for his family, or even putting together something or other. Tonight, however, was rest night.

He watched the flames move, whispering in and out of existence, as he felt a disturbance next to his calm. That disturbance, of course, would have small feet, little hands and a tiny, cute, pink nose and go by the usual name of trouble.

“Hello trouble, aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” said Frank, turning his head slightly to see her small little face. She smiled the cutest smile imaginable which, understandably, usually meant that she got whatever she wanted.

“What is the meaning of love?” she asked, her face filled with inquisitive wishes of understanding and wonder. He could see the innocence still held within each corner of her heart, mind and eyes. Frank chuckled to himself. One of his other tasks was being an oracle, the constant source of answers for the never ceasing question of, ‘why?’.

Frank smiled, as she hopped onto the seat next to him, resting her head against his arm. He knew that such a question or, should he say, answer, would stay with her for a long time. He himself had experienced every notion of the word, the highs, the lows, the pain and more importantly, the loss.

“That’s quite a good question and it’s not that easy to answer!  Love is,” Frank paused a little, wishing to truly give the subject matter the thought that it deserved, “Everything. It’s the way you smile, it can be within every spoken word, every action and how you feel about every single person!”

Olivia’s nose crunched up slightly, as she replied, “Even Amelia who’s always mean to me?”

“Yes,” replied Frank, “Even Amelia. If you can understand why Amelia is mean, then through that understanding, you can appreciate and ignore her words. Understanding is also love.”

“But Grandpapa, what ‘is’ love?”

“Well, love is supposed to be how you feel about someone. You appreciate them, care for that person and, as I said, listen and understand them. How do you feel when you hold your Mummy’s hand?”

Olivia sprung up from his arm, looking straight into Frank’s eyes, “I feel happy. Safe!”

“Then that is also love!”

“I know that I love Mummy, but should I really love everyone?”

Frank chuckled again, “You don’t ‘have’ to love everyone, but it is a better way of living. Love is caring, even when it would be easier not to do so.”

“Is love always warm and will it always make me happy?”

Frank suddenly wished to be elsewhere, as he replied to the difficult question, “I hope it does Olivia, I truly hope that it does. Although, people will try to take your love from you, to make you see the wide world in a different way, but no matter what happens to you, you can still hold love within your brave heart and manage to smile!”

Olivia shrugged her shoulders, more or less moving away from the question.

“Can I have some ice-cream? Please.”

“It’s a little late for that, but because I love you and you said please, why not!  I might even have some myself!”

They both moved from the sofa, as Olivia raised her arms. Frank scooped her up, her cute, silly face, making faces,

“I love you grandpa!”

“I love you too Olivia and I always will!”

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Drift

The Drift, drifting, or drifters as we were all eventually known, started in the early 2040s. Society was bored, lethargic, depressed, and repressed by the constant bombardment of the woke agenda and mainstream media, only having the interests of the highest paying conglomerate. From nowhere, this seemingly new technology appeared that changed life as we knew it.

You would call it teleporting, but it was not like that. We’d figure out a way to accelerate, to mass displace every single atom within your body, from one place, to the other within moments. Four hundred miles would take a person 14.7 seconds. Point to point. Place to place. It was eye opening, body moving and emotionally exciting. Within weeks, the entire planet felt the excitement.

You stepped into a cubicle, which would eventually become placement sections upon the ground and, a few seconds later, you’d appear from a central location at the other end. Nodes, as they were called, were created within every single major city across the country. The world. As time moved forward, sNodes appeared at the end of nearly every single street, all pointing towards the Node of your choice. Want to be in Paris within 30 seconds? It was possible. The pure freedom was simply enlightening.

The young, old, medium and far more could be achieved within the acceleration of an eye. World commerce and communication improved. Families spread far and wide, with the knowledge that home was but a moment away.

Then, the greed settled into the equation. Technology wasn’t cheap and it never would be. At first, they started with the monthly sum, then the drift charge, with over four billion active Drifters, being charged every single drift. The profit was astronomical. As time moved forward, the greed and disparity increased. The sNodes were upgraded to stagger use. Wait times increased and, of course, the more you subbed, the quicker you’d arrive. Foreign travel was, once more, seemingly restricted with higher charges.

New opportunities arose from within the greed laden initiatives. Vitamin boosters applied to your body as you drifted, appeared at additional cost. You could have entire television shows added to your cerebral cortex, as well as having the fat removed from whatever, or wherever you desired. The à la carte nature of menu selections increased, as did the incredible wealth of anyone involved.

Then, the real issues appeared. The options to change the rna and dna of a drifter become the golden option of the rich and famous. Ever so slightly faster, stronger, defined and more than refined mental processing. The divide between the people increased ever so slightly. The general public watched as they became second class citizens within the space of eight years. The bus to the private jet. The have to the have not.

Eventually, through mass media manipulation, inoculations were accepted and administered to every Drifter that used the service. The risk of an epidemic, caused by world travel, threatened at every opportunity. A few resisted, creating their own sectional sNodes that bypassed the standard infrastructure, but even then, dna checkers were initiated within the nodes. It became law, a crime, to resist the initiated control. We resisted further, by taping dna packs from adjusted animal slithers to our bodies. We succeeded, for a while, until additional controls appeared. There was no way to escape the greed implemented by the few in control of the many. It was inevitable.

As the years moved forward, mutations started to appear within the next generation. Not from Drifting, but from the re-sampled, reconfigured genetics. We wanted to improve the human race, to remove the cancers of life, yet we forgot that even the smallest change would bring repercussions. It was denied, pushed aside, as thousands died. It was hidden, masked, removed from sight as the mass media received their brown envelopes of devotion and compliance.

The few that resisted, were found and forced to reproduce. The human race seemingly pushed to reset with standard genetics and characteristics. It was all ignored. Drifting improved the entire planet, but greed and human nature, once again, ensured that we drifted in more ways than one.

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