An Unusual Romance

The big day came too soon. As Doctor Peterson unravelled Kira's bandages, her hand gripping mine tight like a vice, the worries of our unusual romance intensified. I didn't know her, and she didn't know me. Would we still love each other without the solidity of the hospital to hold us together? It was a heady mixture of fear and expectation. But, with each onion skin layer of removal, Kira's breathless panting increasing, I realised the bandages made no difference. Yes, I loved the woman beneath. And, yes, I always would. We were just being introduced for a second time, and I couldn't wait to meet her.

The Space Between

The Space Between

The space between

Dark blue and black

Differing shades of forever

Where pointing fingers linger

And eyes do blink

The stuff of dreams gathering

Like nocturnal memories

No lights required

Just open minds

Stardust and magic

Little parcels of eternity

Destiny and hope

Children praying for shooting stars

Adults too

Never has nothing held such value

Here, dwelling in held breaths

And wishes

We wait

The One You Never Knew

Author’s Note: I don’t know why, but I had a sudden urge to write something dramatic.


The tide rose in my wake determined to wipe me from the granite I clung to; it could not dislodge me. Fingers like limpets pressed to the rock as I scrambled, clambered and crawled. The clear air made fire of a throat used to the liquid nectar of a saline sea, yet still I fought my way towards storm-riddled skies.

To look down upon that which I’d always looked up to played tricks on my tired mind. I felt I might reach across the distance between us, touch your shoulder, stroke your hair, feel the curves of your wetted body pressed to my own. You were perfect, you see, an air breathing angel huddled against the squall. And for one sick moment, I thought to tip you into my domain, dislodge you from your little, brown boat; what a monster the ocean had made of me. Of course, I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

And there, as I spied upon she who’d spied down on me, I forgot where I belonged, forgot what I was, forgot time and its consequences. I lingered in gasping breaths until I gasped no more. It was worth the pain to see you whole and to imagine what our life might have been.

When I lost my lungs, night descended. When I lost my grip, I fell. You may have heard the splash, but you’d never have known it me.

50 Word Stories: Unseen Destinations

Unseen destinations are both blessings and a curse.

Blessing: The exhalation of a held breath as one crests a rise to some wondrous view.

Curse: The disappointment of not knowing, and regret upon arrival.

There is, however, one undeniable truth: there is one unseen destination we will all reach eventually.


I hear the distant drumbeat

a thrumming vibration

calling me on,

and I wonder,

and I wait.

There are hills between me

and the music,

so much to cross

a life to traverse,

a steppe wasteland

cracked and ragged.

It matters not

for the call cannot be unheard.

It matters not

for I will not un-hear it.

The drumbeat draws me on.

I’ll see you there

if you hear it too.

Geraniums On The Breeze

Cool is the breeze that sweeps the valley. I face it eyes closed and lungs filling. There is the faintest smell of geraniums, yet I know not from where or how. There should be no flowers at these heights, only dreams. I inhale deeply, hold the breath, allowing the wherever to fill me, but I am still none the wiser. Such things are the mysteries I travel for and I wonder what I shall find over the next ridge. I always wonder, but have never found what I wish. One day I shall. One day the highest peak shall fall to my battered, leather boots and my heart will say, well done. I long for that day, it drives me. And so I take another step into the unknown. I would have it no other way. For who wishes to travel in the footsteps of others. Not I, not ever. Not even for the smell of geraniums on the breeze.


 Like the ticking of the clock,
 I shall hear your heartbeat.
 Though the oceans of the universe shift your form,
 The tides of time engulf you,
 I will know you once more.
 Through dimensions of exquisite pain,
 Eons of displaced memories,
 I shall search the shawls of night
 For your essence;
 Through the corridors of damnation,
 I shall bring you light.
 And, I promise you this,
 My princess of the nocturne,
 Though the forever shall curse me,
 Infinity erase my name from all record,
 I will find you.
 You are mine.