Hey guys, I’ve missed you!
I just woke up from a nightmare – seriously – in which I found myself on an Airbus A380 (that’s not the nightmare bit as sitting on one of those is a dream come true!) in the place of my son. It should have been him flying to Singapore, en route to New Zealand yet somehow I was taxi-ing away from the airport.
Luckily they listened to reason and let me off at the end of the runway. What a relief!
But that wasn’t what woke me – it was the panic that I’d missed saying goodbye to my son somehow. That ripping out your stomach lining panic that a moment has passed which you’ll never get back. It’s too late. That’s what meant I chose to get out of bed, come down and make tea and read my kindle.
But first I thought I’d see what y’all doin??
My feet were freezing.
Man of the woods prefers to sleep with the bedroom windows open, not merely ajar but as open as they will go and the windier the weather, the better. A gale was practically lifting the duvet two nights ago.
He’d long gone, dressed and down to the kitchen to make the first teas (I have one milky tea with no sugar, and he likes three coffees with two spoon-fulls of coffee powder in each mug).
‘Now, where was I?’ I ask my semi-waking conscience. I’m in that phase where it’s not too late to drift back into that peculiar room in which sat a man with a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, an expensive watch around a tanned wrist on which dark hairs obeyed their master by growing in the same direction… why am I standing behind him, looking over his shoulder at the item in his fingers? Damn it, I want to see his face. Is it Bond in a dark plot twist? Is it one of those middle-aged good looking models used by Patek Philippe? OMG, he’s getting up..
‘Hey! Don’t leave. It was just getting interesting. Hello? Can you hear me? Oooh close that door behind you – it’s so windy in here.’
I move to sit on the same chair and the dimly lit room somehow has the table under a spotlight. The item he left on the table is still there. This is great as usually in dreams what you thought might exist to view in fact drifts away on a thread of memory, but here I can look over the edge of a container and deep into the contents. It’s like the most precious jewel…
I am aware of breathing. Is he back? Will he want to sit down again where I am now?
‘Don’t let it get cold.’
Today I would like to assure Matsu that I am doing some housework and I shall start in the bedroom.
The summer duvet which is not much thicker than a tablecloth may be fine for MoW – whose body temperature runs about four degrees higher than mine – but I’m making a stand.
I’ve located my Nora Batty socks, my winter PJs and I need more covers for the bed. I delighted in discovering an old set of curtains in the spare bedroom – y’know the spare bedroom – the one acting as storage facility to all those items you’re one day going to ‘deal with’ ?
The weight across my body creates a slumber like no other and I slept for 10 uninterrupted hours last night following an amazing trip to an air show, at which I became emotional when the Merlin engines growled their way across the sky wearing their iconic outfits of a spitfire and a hurricane. Their big sister was not allowed in the sky due to a crosswind so instead we were treated to a dogfight and it was fudging amazing.
Man of the woods couldn’t come to the coast to watch the mighty machines as he was at home driving one himself, planting next year’s Rape Seed Oil crop before the storm delivers much-needed rain to the land.
Meanwhile I continue to dream about my feedback from the New Writer’s Scheme. It surely won’t be long now. We are told to chase the organiser after six weeks, and we are edging towards five.
I’m excited about my clutter-free bedroom and I’d love to know about a clutter-clearing experience you guys may have had recently?
Where did you clear?
What did the space become?
How did it make you feel?
Have a lovely weekend wherever you are xx
She turned over and let her face snuggle the pillow’s cool surface that had not been touched, but minutes later sleep had not discovered her.
Thoughts billowed around each other, hustling for space amongst the ordered plans, like young children bored in a queue.
Eventually, she lifted a weary body from the bed and noted aching joints with each descent of the stairs. Filling her headspace with work was really the best solution and as she started to engage in the rituals she knew so well, the darkness and the power it held over her slipped away …..
People. They make the world go round, don’t they? I adore meeting new people and what better way than to do so through the medium of writing?
While writing is part of our everyday through form-filling, emails and texting, don’t you sometimes find yourself creating stories from something? Or nothing? Perhaps a scene unfolding through the windscreen while sat in your car, or a journey taken by a stranger in a dream you wake from? Strings of words appear in my mind; plots and twists, creating worlds which need exploring.
I have joined the Romantic Novelists Association and have somehow secured one of only 300 places on their New Writers Scheme for 2018. I can submit a manuscript (ideally around 80-90,000 words) by August, but earlier if possible … so should you choose to jump aboard and watch me progress, procrastinate, spend time on ‘other projects’ will you do me one favour? Shout and remind me I should be working on my WIP 🥂
I love the art of writing. When I was a teenager I even loved to buy a new fountain pen and quality paper to go with it. I would clear the desk of all ballpoint pens (riff raff) and push all homework away from sight (ghastly, even if necessary) in order that the new pen and paper would not be disturbed in their first outing.
The spoken word, then in ink but now mostly on a keyboard can entertain and educate, make us laugh and cry. If you read any of my posts here then I hope you leave entertained, educated or amused.
March update. 20,000 words down …. only another 60,000 to go … are you having a laugh????
When the velvet-feel water moves across your shoulders,
They glisten in the evening sun before the retreating sea,
Leaves shapes as gravity takes it back from you.
I smell the salt as your arms reach out for me,
Dark hairs are flattened to your wrists and I turn my head to kiss them,
I wish to show your soul the power of my love for you.
The only way I know how is through the driving force,
The desire I feel is electrifying my body,
It takes over and knows no bounds.
Your cool wet lips find mine and kiss me gently, staying still,
Giving me time to absorb what is usually a fleeting,
tantalising sensation I wish I could bottle.
Her weight across his thighs was holding his legs together. She straddled him and gazed at his face, yet avoided eye contact. He felt the promise of seeing into her soul was tantalisingly close. The silk negligee slid across her own smooth legs, riding ever higher as her fingers teased the hem closer to her torso. John looked from her face down to her hands and watched, his slightly open lips quickly becoming dry as his breathing rate increased.
A bang on the door woke him with a start and he cursed as he swung his legs off the bed and padded to the door to look through the spyhole. Thanks Ramesh.
“Five minutes?” John spoke through the gap, after Ramesh explained they needed to meet Aditya and the insurance men at the dam as soon as possible.
“OK, I’ll wait in reception.” Ramesh stalked back along the hotel corridor.
2-minute showers were a leftover skill from his days in the army. As he dressed, John prayed Riya had remained comfortable through the night. John had left the hospital after her parents arrived to take up vigil by her bed and he was unsure about how to create an excuse to go back there.
The road were surprisingly clear of debris as they neared the dam. “They’ve been working all through the night.” the locals had brought their diggers and had assisted in clearing rocks from the hillside. “These guys always come and help in this area; the government equipment is still in use 100 miles away following last month’s quake.”
“What did this one measure?” John swung the door to the truck closed and they walked together from the open space which had become a makeshift carpark, surrounded by no risk hills.
“Only 3.2 but we think the dam and this valley took the, what do you english say, brunt of it?” John smiled briefly and they walked past the taped off entrance and down the steps towards the power house entrance. John kept his mind on the job at hand as the next two hours was spent with the authorities and so called profressionals, although was shocked at the safety steps not being taken as they moved around damaged areas. A few men were taking wheelbarrow loads of bricks and timber out from within the office. The dam had been built well and while there were no serious breaches of the principal spillway, a persistent leak was escaping to one side where the abutment was weak at its join to the hillside.
Aditya’s angry voice could be heard long before they could see him. “I need the work to start today. You know this water is a lifeline to the whole state.”
“Sir, we do not have the man power free yet. The teams are still working on the bridges; the 48 and the 160 both took serious hits last month and we have to get supplies in and out of Mumbai.”
“For God’s sake!” Aditya ran his hands through his hair “My great grandfather built this and I am not going to sit around waiting for some half-wit team to turn up when they are ready. I have a handful of locals happy to work for me.” he pushed past the man with the clipboard, clanking his crutches against remaining door uprights.
“You cannot use these people. They are not covered by your policy. We have to wait Sir.” The insurance man tip-toed through the broken window panes on the old lino flooring, attempting to keep up but the tone of Aditya’s statements left no-one in any doubt as to the direction this would go.
“I will take that risk. Fuck the insurance! I will buy my own materials.”
Ramesh shook his head an followed the men, but John chose to stay and look around. Glass crunched below his boots, papers and desk paraphernalia littered the floor where Riya would have been sitting. Her chair was on its side, its wheeled feet looking not unlike an upturned ladybird and an old metal filing cabinet lay at an angle against the chair back. On closer scrutiny he noticed a brown smear on its edge and knew this was what had hit her. He struggled to push the cabinet upright and it see-sawed slightly before resting once again on its base, the top drawer slowing opening of its own accord, offering its contents for examination.
Flicking through the wallets within, John saw only invoices to contractors, letters and delivery notes. More of the same in the second drawer. The bottom drawer was stuck. He kicked it; nothing. The desk behind him had remained upright and its top drawer revealed a promising key and sure enough it allowed him entry. A wooden box was just visible towards the very back, inlaid with mother of pearl around the edges in an intricate pattern. From John’s squatting position, he opened the lid and inside were folded pieces of paper. A faint scent; the same perfume as when he had got into the Jaguar. He hesitated before unfolding the first piece; feeling like a traitor but desperate to help;
For years I have waited and you do not disappoint. Everything I have is yours and all you are will be mine. We will be one. No other man will come between us. You will work a little longer but I have a house awaiting your presence and you will not need to work my love.
You are young my darling, you are not to know these ways, but I will not tolerate the behaviour you displayed last night. You are committed to me now and your eyes will remain down in company. I am not angry with you my dear. You will soon learn. I will make sure of it my love.
“John? Come – we are leaving now.” Ramesh called from outside. There were many letters inside and John grabbed them, leaving the box, forcing them into an envelope he had spotted earlier. “Aditya wants to know if your men can come. I told him you will try, please?” the engineer seemed an enigma; uneducated in some respects yet qualified to build and design complicated structures. But it was Aditya who had flagged up in John’s mind. His permanent angry state; the disregard for his sister in the hospital.
“I have emailed UK already; they will come back to me soon and we have two teams who could be here in two days if the plans for work are viable”
“I want them yesterday.” Aditya squared up to John, his eyes blazing. “And I get what I want.”
If you would like to start at the beginning, catch part 1 here!
Fun with the daily word prompt – viable