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.


50 Word Stories: Fate


We never saw it coming, the day the world paused. If God’s work, who could say? The long breath, we waited without exhaling as snowed ash proliferated. They came. We wept regrets, the skies afire, world aflame, everything igniting as one. The Apocalypse, some called it. I called it fate.


“I’m wintering,” she breezed. “Just here for the avalanches really.”

I thought that an odd thing to say, but her ice-blue eyes snapped me back to reality like a broken icicle shattering on a windowpane.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m summering,” I said.


“Yeah, I live in the North Pole during the winter.”


“No, not really, I’m a holidaying Eskimo.”

I thought that a good line, funny even; she scowled and walked out of the room.

Two days later, I heard an avalanche had swept her away. Had my joke been that bad, or was it what she’d wanted all along? Questions without answers. I’d miss those eyes, though, cold like my heart.

Rain or Shine

 She stood beneath an umbrella. I couldn’t tell you if it was from rain or shine, I was mesmerised. I remember her foot tapping, or splashing, or something; her dark hair pooling about her shoulders, she was perfect. When she looked my way copper-coloured eyes blinking, I thought I should die. People must have thought I’d lost it, flipped, or worse, as I stood there gawping like a hungry puppy. I barely even noticed the bus pull up, my heartbeat dip, my world tear apart until it departed. She was gone; I was broken. I even missed my own ride in the process, fate just rubbing it in. Funny how life can flip you a deal then rip it away. I think a little piece of me’s still stood there waiting for her out there in the rain, or shine, or something.

 (Image courtesy of SocialRegression on


 Some would call it luck
 A fortuitous development,
 But there is no soul in chance,
 No pleasure in not being meant.
 Some might say it fate,
 And that would be closer to the truth,
 Although not all of it.
 I would rather say it serendipitous
 For only that could explain
 The happiness I feel
 Every single time I see you.


 What is it to dream
 When all’s not as it seems
 Who decides the view
 Me, Him, or you
 What is it to strive
 When others drown, dive
 Who decides you’re gone
 Me! I think that’s wrong
 What is it to smile
 When it’s been gone a while
 Who will make you grin
 Me, you, or Him
 What is it to die
 When others probably cry
 Who decides your fate
 Me! I think too late
 What is this place here
 When heaven seemed so near
 Who has chosen grey
 Me, I had to pay