Cold

The cold clambering frost tried, as much as it could, to move into her blanket but it was no use. Her heart, still beating, managing to survive most of life’s harsh words, kept on pumping the way that it wished to move. Each beat, powerful, defiant, no longer willing to withstand the bitter and cruel world outside.

She’d withstood, endured all the damned idiotic pain within her world. Empowering, lasting, embracing her pain and often suffering emotions. She held the blanket closer to her body, feeling the warmth and grace of its tender inflections. This was her safe zone, her place, her mood for the moment that ensured her safety. Words, above all, often knew a way of working their way through any and all defences.

She’d heard all of them. Many of them. The put downs, the reasons, the fault to which she often unknowingly took the blame. She was this, maybe that, as her mind and emotions simply agreed to make the words stop. No matter the bruises, the verbal or physical, she knew that the images and respirations would endure. She carried on. She always would.

Sipping the small cup of hot chocolate, closing her eyes as the warmth entered her body, she reflected upon her life, her world, her emotions and more. This place, this moment, was one of those seldom found explanatory, exploratory, escapes and sanctuaries. She smiled, as her eyes opened to the world in front of the window. The icescape world, the beauty of white, the purity and refresh of the land, calmed her. Although she didn’t adore the cold, she surely embraced a scene such as this.

Her self-confidence, ever so slightly shattered, with the various words and deeds becoming her norm. Reprogrammed, re-purposed, to ensure another’s emotional vacancy remain intact, she’d learned to finally say, ‘no’. She’d pushed away the moments of pain, to deny his pleasure inflicted upon her with harsh abundance. He was skilled, acquainted with the verse of words that escaped his mind, with his heart probably being left alone from a young and tender age. The spoilt spoiled person, wreaking havoc upon another.

Each time she’d tried, she was set to fail with his type of support behind her. She felt her own self-doubt infect, reaping away her energy to succeed within her life, unable to find that simple little belief that she needed. She’d watch others thrive or, even, smile as they did the simplest life tasks with ease. The self-doubt turned inwards, focused her thoughts into the cold, chastising melodramatic drama of angst and tears. She was, to her own eyes, worthless.

The cold followed her, calming her inner demons, until the day she finally started to listen. Each word, analysed. Each circumstance, reflected upon, until she finally and dramatically said one simple word, ‘no’. Other words were eventually raised from within her inner monologue, ‘no way’ and, ‘no chance’. She started to rise. Slowly, surely, each step upon the icy ground moving her forward.

Upon a cold day, a shallow day, void of emotional connections or sympathy, she finally said what she’d wanted to say for the longest of times. She calmly explained, exclaimed, that she was no longer willing to endure the pestilence of another’s failing emotional mind. She proclaimed that emotions were gentle, sympathetic, tender and kind. She stated that feelings were precious and that they were to be cared for, held, and embraced with the most tender kisses imaginable.

She, this person wrapped within the warmest blanket, had finally escaped the emotive ups and downs, with one brave, final, emotionally vacant explanation. She stood. She left. She moved forward but would never, ever, forget the cold she’d endured year after year. She, again, smiled, knowing, realising, that she’d finally and bravely, found her own cold safe exterior that would protect her precious, burning, healing heart.

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Think

I think of you, in those small silent moments, when life manages to give me a second’s rest. Your smile, your face, your warm voice that used to hold my hand no matter the occasion, place or time. You were always there, even when I was bare, lost, emotional and hiding. You, above all, understood me.

I think of you, when I hold my emotional insides together with anything, everything, that I can find in that minute when I’m lost. All the strength, all that passion within me, expressed from the years of your silence when you wanted to say so much, but said so little, with mountains crashing into small hearts at the thought of your sadness.

I think of you, when I just want to give up. To throw myself to the ground, proclaiming that I’ve failed, forever more and the day today. You’d never let me fail, you’d always wish for me to stand, as that’s what you’d do. That’s what you’ve done, over all the years and abandoned fears held within. Your courage, that steadfast resolve, meant more to me than you will ‘never’ know.

I think of you. Often. Always. Forever, until there’s no-one, or nothing left, to remember you. There’s no doubt that I’ll see you again, one day, someday, with the moment of my own eyes closing for the last time, being the next time I smile. I’ll see your face, hold your hand and give you the biggest most amazing hug that I’ve saved.

I think of you, the same way that we all think about that loved one that’s no longer here. The person that’s loved us from the very second we appeared, until the moment we held your hand on that final day. Two times a day. Three. Maybe four. Possibly even ten times. Twenty, it matters not, as you’re always there. Each time I place a foot in front of my other foot, I think of you. It’s inevitable, it’s impossible not to do so, as I am, and always will be, made from you.

I think of you.

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Paradise

Paradise, that indefinable place that’s different for all of us, is the worth to which we aspire and welcome. From the very moment we’re born, we’re shown the way of the world, the words to use, how to act and what to aspire for. It’s the knowledge, the wisdom, the desire and more, that’s bestowed upon us generation after generation.

For some, holding a hand can be the only paradise that they’ve secretly wished for, fought for, cried for and bled. Such a simple little gift, the smiles returned, the moments that burn, in our hearts and minds, as a reminder that the warmth of another can keep all of the fears, further tears, at bay until that final day.

For others, there’s the desire for wealth, that stealth to somehow be above the others that surround you each and every single day. It’s a silent desire, as no words need be spoken as you drive that extra special car, to that resort or place that overlook so very, very much. The fine wines, the grand designs, all there for the taking if the world would just give you, I, them and us, a simple easy chance.

For the many, or should I say the few, as we truly do not know, there’s another form of paradise. Silence. To hear no other voice within their mind, the pure ecstasy of silence. Pure, refined, the lifelong struggle to calm one’s inner self. The rampaging and ravaging words that seldom offer relief, the nasty, submergent, notion that some how you’re simply, easily, not that good enough. The air you breath, a gift, that you barely even register as you push your own head into the dirt of life.

For the global love within all of us, there’s the small patter of feet. The baby, or puppy and cat delight, filling our world with love’s abundant life.  Each throw of a ball, each nudge of a hair filled paw, or the laughter of a child’s heart can remind us that we’re not alone. No longer, no more, as we’re with a purpose and live forever more for that one ideal. It’s beautiful, it’s wondrous, living for another life upon this very world.

For me, at this very second, there would be no other greater paradise than every single person working together. I’d ask us all to forget the lines upon a map. To forget the wars, the arguments, the petty colour lines and the temperature of our skins, as that’s just one of those things that hasn’t changed since the dawn of humankind. I would strip the wealth from the world, the garments, the expensive jewels and abandon false idols. The solitary notion that, to advance, we’d have to work together, to improve, would be the only fashion to which I’d weave. I’d crush the combustion chambers to which we bind our lives, instead looking to the very sunshine that brightens our days and lips.

But that, above, is just a crazy notion of a paradise that can never, ever happen. Instead, as a fall back, I’ll just accept that the only paradise that I would achieve would be the hand of another upon mine. That’s achievable as, just in case we’re still not on the same page, it would take a worldwide catastrophe to change our ways and even then, it would be an impossibility. Paradise, for all of us, will have to wait until the very day we realise that our next lives, may not even exist. Heaven help paradise upon this very world as it will never, ever, arrive within my lifetime.

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Soulful

Lying upon the soft bed sheets, with the window open to the world outside, her thoughts simply kept on doing what they often did. Taunting her, annoying her, speaking words that simply tried to crush her dreams and ideals that she’d like to pursue. She didn’t wish to think this way, as she did truthfully believe in the word ‘fate’, the word that often seemed to ignore her just as her future was within her grasp.

Time. Again and again, that time had eluded her far too much. She’d often feel frustrated, annoyed, but that was like an old friend visiting to say hello once again. The familiar face, the same old same old, words or rhyme and idiotic reason coming together to keep her warm. She looked out into the dark sky, the half moon possibly asking for her thoughts to change, as her heart seemed to beat within her very ear. She consoled herself, reminded herself, that things could be far, far worse. She was warm, healthy, fed and living a reasonable life. She, of course, wanted more. A lot more. The sorrow, deep, expressive, once again pushed aside.

She would never say that she’d been deprived, as a youngster, as she didn’t know what she’d missed as it was never there. She simply wanted more, more love, more harmony and, just maybe, someone who actually adored her. She let out a small laugh as she reminded herself that her taste in men, would never quite manage to get to that ideal. Her platitudes tired her yet, right now, she could not sleep. She’d count sheep, but there were far too many beautiful stars to count. Her eyes became heavy, for a brief second, as her breathing slowed. She closed her eyes and, suddenly, felt the air brush past her body. She opened her eyes, as her shock flew to her heart, causing the beats to quicken as her mind caught up to the situation. Upon the balcony stood a man, with pure white wings.

She hunched herself into a ball against the headboard, as the spectre smiled. Unable to remove her gaze from his, she said nothing, remaining silent as he stepped into the room. He was, despite the fear, panic and possible threat, beautiful beyond compare. A statue of the perfect man made real, within her reach and bedroom. She controlled her mind, not quite understanding her raging, idiotic thoughts, as he stopped a few inches from her bed. She wanted to smile at him, maybe even run to the bathroom to check that she looked presentable, despite the situation, but that also defied belief.

He raised his hand in a calming gesture, as he spoke, “I’m not here to hurt you!” he said, with such a calm and comforting voice. His words were like the softest music playing within her ears, connecting to her heart and imagination. She bit the side of her lip, to see if she were sleeping, which only hurt. She’d watched enough films to realise that he must be having some type of effect over her body, as well as mind. She simply could not take her eyes away from him. Muscular, taut, the type of body that she’d only seen a few times, but never managed to get into her room to do all of those things she loved to do. A dream or not, she remained curled up, safe, hesitant to move. She’d scream, but the chances of anyone hearing her, were remote in such a location.

“What do you want?” she asked with fear, interest and confusion all mixed together. He did, after all, have wings straight from some type of science fiction film or a holy picture.

“Don’t you want more from your life? I could hear your thoughts from a thousand miles away!”

She nodded, once, no longer able to do anything more than listen to each and every single word being spoken. Influenced, inflicted and maybe mildly conflicted, she knew that she did want more from her life. It was obvious. Her day to day meanderings bored her, deadened her joy for the moments that she once found fulfilling. He continued to speak with that glorious voice of his,

“I can offer you everything you desire, give you that charisma, the drive, to seek out your given opportunities and become something more!”

Her mind started to somersault as images flooded her consciousness. The holidays, the cars, the moments and aspiration to be noticed by all, allowed her to lower her defences as she decided to no longer hide herself. She moved away from the headboard, slowly, resting upon her legs directly in front of him, looking into his glorious eyes. “Tell me more,” she asked, with an odd vibrant interest and glee she’d not felt for years.

“There are some people that are meant for more, to be liked more, loved more, with anyone else that has a different opinion being a jealous hater. You… are meant for more. Make the choice, change your life, make it so, and I will bestow upon you the confidence you need!”

Her smile grew, her soul literally warmed her chest, as butterflies appeared within her stomach. She’d pinch herself but, after biting her lip, it might not be the best decision. She nodded, hearing his words, accepting them, embracing them as her own, as she answered, “I accept your offer!” A part of her mind tried to scream in defiance but, as with many choices of desire, lust and life, it was now far too late.

“But you haven’t heard the price of such things?”

She shrugged her shoulders, knowing that she was, more or less, already dead inside. She had a thousand ways to find sanctuary, a better place, but knew that she’d ignore them all for that fast track ticket to the same destination.

“I don’t care!”

“Are you sure?  It’s your very soul!”

She laughed, wondering if she actually had such a thing, after the scenes that she’d witnessed through her life. She’d completely accepted, as she continued staring into his beautiful eyes, failing to notice his wings slowly changing colour.

“Is that all?” she asked with genuine interest, soulfully wondering if such a moment was real.

“Well,” he said, as he pulled at her lingerie strings, his dark black wings further enticing her,  “maybe one other thing!”

She smiled, she laughed, as she then pulled him on top of her as she felt his lips against hers. If a soul was the only reason to have the perfect life, then she’d gladly, openly, truthfully and forever more, give such a thing away.

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Hero

In this life, I do not ask for a great deal. I’m as honest as I can be and, at times, maybe even a bit too honest. I hurt, I bleed, I fall and struggle. But, no matter what happens, I still manage to stand. Always, forever and ever, until my very last breath. I know I can say too much, write even more, even say the wrong words at the right times, but my heart is and always will be, in the right place.

I ask not of you, what I can do myself, within reason. I’ll never be the beauty in this thing that we have. I’ll never own a smile as deep and rich as yours, that type of smile that warms my heart, removes any tears and, in those moments, raises a fire that even I never thought I could find. I’m an imperfect person, realising that I can nearly hold that perfection within my hand whenever you’re near.

I know, I know, major cheese filled words, as beautiful as they are. Maybe that’s why you’re with me, beside me, as that’s what we need more of in this silly mixed up world. That remix, of sorts, the day to day becoming more about the time together. I love you. Always have, even when I didn’t even know you existed. I believed. I knew. I damn well knew.

I recall that day when I heard you crying, about something that you thought was ever so silly. You’re human and, in that moment, I realised that there is pain behind those eyes of yours. We don’t get here without a few knocks and punches to the heart. Heck, that’s why I kiss you the way I do. I’m trying to get through to those scars, one simple little kiss at a time.

I’m here, you’re there, which means that I’m going to stand beside you for as long as I can. I’m not going to lie, to say forever, as that’s not very realistic. My forever may end tomorrow and, until then, I’ll do what I can.  Take that bullet for you. Pull you from a car crash. Hold your hand as the world falls around you. Dance, if you wish to laugh, hold you close, when you need to love and more. I’m not supposed to make you tremble, unless my name is upon your lips. I’m not supposed to make you cry, unless you’re saying, 'I do!'

In this life, I do not ask for anything from anyone. I’m as honest as I will be and, within moments, maybe not enough. I laugh, I smile, I fly and fight. But, no matter what happens, I still manage to love. Always, forever and ever, until my very last breath. I know I can say too much, write even more, even say the wrong words at the right times, but my heart is and always will be, in the right place.

However, if I were to ask one thing, as silly as it sounds, I just want one thing from you. I just, simply, wish to be your hero.

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Insatiable

She sat in her bedroom, her eyes closed and mind doing what it wished to do. She’d denied her instincts, as well as needs, for the longest time but enough was enough. That knack, that ever-present way of placing herself into the most idiotic situations imaginable, rearing its fine head once again.

That denial, the closed doors within her body that had started to give way to what she wanted, finally fading as that name appeared upon her lips. He knew her, knew her to a degree that annoyed and, at the same time, intrigued. They’d spoken for hours, his aloof way of doing things infuriating her desire to know more, far more, with that being the reason she’d wanted further time.

She’d drink him, envelop him within her, literally, if she could. No matter what was said, done or asked for, it was impossible to find that satisfaction she craved. The hunger rising within, embracing her to the point of near despair but, as he’d said, he wasn’t willing to give more than he could. That scent, the way he held her, be it her hand or her entire body, it mattered not as any contact was better than nothing.

She leaned back onto her hands, legs crossed as she sat on the floor, wondering what to do next. Each breath that escaped her lips, seemed to literally speak his name. It annoyed her, becoming each and nearly every thought within her day. She knew, deep down, that such a place could hardly ever be called healthy, but this was what it would be. Kissing, for hours, listening to his voice, whenever she could, enjoying that witty conversation that made her laugh to her very core. Dangerous, to a level that seemed to remove the boredom from her life, she’d honestly ask for nothing more than his company.

She smiled, a little wry and coy smile as she reminded herself that what she’d just thought, wasn’t really the truth. She’d ask for nothing more, until he’d used his body in ways that she’d longed for. She’d ask for nothing more, until he kissed the back of her neck whilst his hands did what they’d done on a few of the previous nights. She’d ask for nothing more, until he’d written his name over every single inch of her skin. Again and again. Over and over, until she’d finally broken her own resolve. She allowed this, all of it, every second and the waking moments of her life had roused the dead and long buried aspects of herself.

She’d often look towards the moonlight, letting light bathe her skin, wondering if it had anything to do with why he was within her life. Around her, holding her, asking her to become all that she could be. She’d smile, whenever he was near, laugh, giggle like a crazy fool, until the very moment he vanished again. It did hurt, the echo and ache of the space beside her, but this was the way of his world and she’d gladly forsake her calm.

She opened her eyes, looking out of the window, wondering what would happen next. If anything. She looked at his face, the covers barely covering his modesty as he slept. He was, to her, perfect. They all had their faults, the men of the world, but this one in particular did something to her thoughts which, in turn, carried her very body to another place. She glanced at his lips, reminding herself of that moment where… . She stopped. She couldn’t take this, she wouldn’t take this, as she moved from the floor to straddle him upon her own bed.

His eyes opened, the foggy sleep staying within his voice as he spoke, “You okay?”

She placed her lips next to his ear, whispering, as she moved herself over him. Teasing, enabling, the appetite starting to build within her. She, simply, did not wish to stop. She’d let her body and needs sleep for the longest time and now, right now, she’d had enough of that aspect of her daily life. No more. “I want you again!”

He smiled, knowing that he couldn’t and wouldn’t even try to stop her if, for some reason, her wish wasn’t his very command. He moved his lips to meet hers and, after kissing her a few times, simply uttered the word, “Insatiable!”

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Various 02

A selection of posts that didn't get finished or I didn't wish to generally post. Not proof read or corrected.

Tempt:

You see, to start, I’d like to apologise. I know that you’re not aware of what I’m about to apologise for, but in a way, I know that you do. We’re all aware, in our own way and worlds, so it’s about time that I let the world know the truth.

I’m me, always will be, almost wasn’t but that’s because I don’t mind changing; if it’s progressive positive change. That’s what it’s about. At all times. Mostly. I apologise, to you, personally and ethically, as I’m tempted by you. I know, I know, honesty can be alarming, refreshing, adopting and warming. It can also be very, very scary. Come on, admit it, the words are hardly a shock when you’re you and I’m the person called me.

How about you face some honesty within yourself, for a moment’s chance! Pass go, collect your pound of heart, go to my jail or simply land on a square. It’s your choice as, if we are being honest, it’s either all a game or something more. Serious, delirious, it doesn’t matter as this is what it’s all about. The world is full of people that may, or may not, like each other. To me it’s all about levels. You either get nothing, a charming smile and a conversation that I’d like to escape, some of me or, if you’re that three in a million, everything.

War:

“All I’m saying is that you have to eventually give in to what you want!” Dez stood there, defiant, speaking to Sam who usually remained quiet at such times. Shaking his head, turning to grab the ammo behind him for his belt, Dez continued, “What are we doing out here? Breaking skulls, riding the wave of shear madness? For what? You tell me Sam. You tell me!”

Sam, placing the knife into his boot’s holster, thought about Dez’s words. He spoke the truth. No man was, as Dez said many times, an island. Self-contained, self-serving and self-sufficient, while ignoring that thought knocking at the side of his mind. He was lonely, he was alone, despite the immense adrenaline filled day job that seemed to be consuming his every waking moment.

Key:

The Long version:

There are many keys within this world, to unlock the safe sitting over in the corner, behind the painting or cabinet. The shapes and sizes, the designs, all made to make opening such places a mystery to some. To others, that enjoy such things, there’s the mystery and knowledge of opening said safe. The mystery unfolds, the notches click, the noises creak, the wheel spins with each designated number.

Life can often resemble a safe, doors being locked, keys thrown away, moments placed hidden beyond reach and more.  If you really think about things, hold the thought within your mind, the hardest lock should always, always, be between the world and your heart. What lies beneath, the thoughts, the emotions, are often tender, hurt, scared from the years of pain and tears. It’s no wonder that many people quickly close their hearts. There’s fear, there’s rejection, there’s the above pain and far, far more.

It’s horrendous, it’s tragic, that others often bare their heart wide open, for all to see. I say tragic as that’s where the most damage is caused. We all need a key, we all need that lock to protect ourselves but how far should we go? Do we reach forward, with caring arms to embrace, while holding everything back, or do we try to simply take each day as it arrives. Only you, or I, can decide.

For me, I’m hesitant, wary, wondering what and where the moments will take me. I’m not quick to love, neither quick to admit that I do, but by the heavens above I’m quick to hold. I’m vulnerable, I’m easily hurt, but quick to recover. I should have a key, but that’s neither here, there, or important. You, however, are obviously important to me.

We reach forward with wide-eyed optimism, heart wishing to smash through the iron bars partially raised to protect ourselves. I can appreciate that; completely, partly, mostly, maybe even maybe. We’re all different, despite all being hurt, or feeling pain and anguish. We’re human, expressing most thoughts with such freedom.

What I’m trying to say, while ensuring I spend as much time as possible adding more and more words, is that I like you. I appreciate you. You have a very busy life. You’re dedicated and I respect that. Admire what you’re doing and have done in life. You’re a Mother, a hard working individual that deserves only the respect that she’s earned over the many, many years. You’re a woman, feisty, beautifully sculpted, eyes of fire and lips of sin. You’re what a Man rarely even knows he should adore.

With all of the words above, no matter what’s written, said, done previously, I do, honestly, want the key to your heart. It’s a precious and tender gift. It’s something to treasure and protect with all of my energy and strength.

The short version:

Take me upstairs and let me... . We’ll bond and, eventually over the weeks, fall in love. Done.

They:

They say, those people, the ones that like to fade into the background. Ever present, ever scolding, the snide remarks and side glances. They’re amongst you, the I, the me and you within our lives. Evade them, ignore them, if you can and when you see fit.

They say that everything should be taken with moderation. Then why love without fear, or hesitation? Should we listen to the baffling dreams and normality of the many designed to silence the few stars amongst us? I say no, never, ever forever, the moderation of our lives be damned and forgotten.

They say, that it’s the punch you don’t see, that knocks you out. I beg to differ as I cry you that deep river, as the punches could be staring you in the eyes and yet, despite this, they still destroy you.

Random:

There are many, many ways to live your life, with angst, anger, the negative views being explored by many and more. We choose, each day, in each way, to live our lives the way we wish to do so. Some explore, some develop, with most stuck within the transitory space of the day to day. It’s what we do. It’s what we know.

There are many people that heal, that actively find the path of freedom, the rhythm of their own lives becoming an essential part of their growth and status. They’re the special ones, the peacekeepers, the serene few, that only wish the best for you and me. I’ve known them, even embraced them, only to let them float away as my own consciousness broke in two.

It’s a tragic world, a suffering world, where the memories haunt and the words repeat. Again and again, each day, each morning, the noon, as well as the night, we pierce our own hearts with the words we really should leave behind. The past, the future, both objects of desire, betrayal and longing. Apologise to the universe, say the words out aloud, hoping that the words reach their intended destination. Find peace.

Find… love. It’s the most important feeling within our single, solitary, momentary lives.

Candle:

I can feel the heat, around me, holding me, taking care of the mental bruises exposed from the recent events. Each moment, each word, held together with the thought of seeing you again. I know it’s idiotic, almost senile, that I think the way I do. You cannot hold me, expose me, or stop the coming days and thoughts. It’s life, it’s present, the seconds that threaten my very sanity.

I have cried. I have shed those tears, in private, on the subway train, while walking and right next to your arms. Life bores me, ignores me, as I bathe within everything you are. Maybe I’m not normal, possibly forgetting that you still hold a part of me against those lips of yours.

I gave far too much. The usual and typical story of the modern day. I craved you, desired you, wanted to have you in so many ways and, upon the day that you finally let me indulge you with my fantasies, it was almost as if you knew exactly what I wanted. I remove the word ‘wanted’, replacing it with ‘needed’.

It has been fifty nights since we last met, to exchange those heavy kisses that you pressed against my body. You thirsted, you excelled, and I matched your desire with ease. You asked me, you begged me, to express myself so many, many times, with my smile acknowledging your wishes. We moved together like we were dancing within the soft sheets. But fifty nights, apart, abandoned, has damaged my very understanding of your words.

We spoke, we expressed, we exhaled all of our darkest, deepest wants from each other. The simplicity of words, the honesty of basic desire, all brought together as we did the very things that came naturally. Your skin, against mine, holding me, guiding my arms around you

Cured:

Standing there, admiring, watching her, he viewed the way she moved and looked. She was splendour itself, that magnificent crescendo that filled his heart, body and mind with such tremendous thoughts. Then, of course, there were the feelings. Those riotous moments, where he could swear that he could so easily lose control. He was, above all, her man.

He didn’t truly care about the day to day, the sustaining glass houses that they all lived within, as she was absolutely everything. His focus. His worth. He could, possibly, find another, ten others, a hundred more, but there would be no use to such things as she just knew what to say. How to say it. With a smile, with savage eyes, a just tongue, or even just a silent look. She was, to him, the half of a complete world.

She was standing just across the street from where he stood, looking through a shop window, minding her own business waiting. Waiting for him. He wasn’t late, as he wouldn’t do such a thing, but arriving early afforded him a chance to see her in a different light. Beautiful, serene, the power within hidden for none to see. He knew her, wanted to know more, with each day bringing forward a new reason to smile.

The years had flown, moved away with the clouds of time. They’d flourished, learnt from each other, enjoyed each other and, above that, simply helped each other. The kind words, the expectations seldom appearing, the respect flourishing and more.

She was wearing a dress, not too tight, above the knee with sandals. Apparently, to his delight, this was the current fashion trend of the current year, month and possibly day. She had that vibrant flair for her clothes, matching, with his ever-approving gaze. He’d even, at times, offer positive suggestions for that ever important three colour rule. He got it. He understood these things, as much as he could.