A few weeks ago I challenged myself to writing a little each day. Where my work has often been autobiographical or steeped in historical tales I also challenged myself to a shift into fiction...
I've been sharing these snippets as they arrive in my imagination on the ol Facebook.
Here is how it's going so far in full if you want to see the bigger picture.
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She had taken a walk in the hot night
Down to the water
To see the moon and her rippling twin
Her breath did not curl in tiny clouds of droplets
But ran cool into the inky air
Later the next day it started to rain
Fat drops of water
Beating against the open window
Answering the prayers of the parched earth
Bringing with it a small chill
She slept a little into the morning
After the rainstorm
On waking the morning was still dark
Heavy showers continuing to douse the garden
She listened as the world drank it down
But the sun had returned as she lifted
Her body from the bed
And with a rich dark coffee in hand
She sat with the flowers in the morning light
And with stone in stomach she thought to herself
This
Is a bad business
It wasn’t that she was naive to the requirements of the job
She had lived in it for over a decade
She knew exactly the exquisite toll that it could take
The sometimes excruciating cost
This wasn’t even the worst case she had seen
But it was the first that had really wormed its way right into her guts.
The first that filled her with an irrevocable numbing weight of dread
The first that had taken any proper effect on her life outside the work
Creeping inside her skull to buzz and fizz and whisper
Relentlessly reminding her that
No Matter
How it had been resolved
The damage had been done.
And there was no hope of fixing the trauma that had rippled out from the stone having been cast
There had been no preventing its trajectory and the consequences there of.
Here and Now
The sun baked earth had turned golden already
And the harvest begun a few weeks ahead
Where this time last year the corn still had a little way
To go before it had really ripened.
She went out into the flat open country
And wandered amongst the first eager hay stacks
The rains had washed away the fierceness of the recent bright days
But even so
She had been shivering ever since that night when
So much more than the weather had changed
Her skin prickled as she thought of it
A chill ascending her vertebrae
She closed her eyes and gave in to the uneasy feeling
A slight dizziness
Slowing the tread of her feet for a moment
And then there she was
In plain view of the site
And a sharp intake of breath
Involuntary mechanical reaction
Forced itself in to her lungs
As if this place hadn’t already made it
Into her bloodstream sinuously integrating particles,
minerals,
Into her bones
Depositing an unavoidable creeping sense of itself
Into the very fabric of her being
She gave herself this moment to pause
With a squint of the eyes you could pretend
The place was unchanged
As it ever was
But she knew
And then steeling her courage
She made the final approach
Even though all hell had taken place here
It was time to go home.
…………………………………………………………………………………………..
She sat
Stock still
Upright in shock
Like an electric charge had stretched out her spine and fused it ruler straight
Her left hand was gently resting
Fingertips on her corresponding cheek
She was right handed
She wondered if this meant her left fingertips were the more or less sensitive set
They hovered lightly over the skin
Where it had laid there in that dark pool on the ground
It felt so delicate
So much softer than she had expected
After all of the scrubbing
Scraping with flannel and soap
Layers of skin
To remove the unseen stain
How much of it had seeped into her own skin
Been absorbed while she was floored
There
Is that why?
Is it where the softness came from?
So much softer than the other side
Unless it was just her imagination playing tricks
He asked the question again
For maybe the third or fourth time
And only then did he begin to come into focus
Filtering in
Fading up
Asserting himself upon her drifting reality
Grabbing it forcefully by the shoulders and pulling her into this shared world
“The Real World”
His voice suddenly loud and abrasive
Ringing in her ears.
‘Tell me again what you were doing there?’
Her tongue heavy and numb she was unable to satisfy him with an answer.
‘How did you know her, how long had you been “friends”?’
She could only stare wide eyed as his mouth moved
The words spitting forth like darts
Making her face jump in frightened response.
‘How did you come to be at the scene Mrs…?’
He flicked through the small dog eared notebook in his grip
Her name already forgettable
But his determination that this was all her doing already strong.
She began to well up and strange sobbing noises began
Involuntarily bubbling up from her gullet as she began again to drift
Her vision shifting
Off of the hard metal table upon which she was sat
And back to the horror
The scene
Because perhaps he wasn’t wrong
In that moment she couldn’t be sure
And her uncertainty in the face of it broke her ability to think
Only opening space up for fear to pour back in
At this moment a Nurse decided she was too distressed to make any sense
And she stepped between the girl and the man
Ordering him to leave whilst resting her arm around her shoulders
She brought the girl back for a moment
The weight and warmth of that protective limb
Pressing the stiff unpleasant fabric of the hospital gown against her skin
And then nothing
Nothing
The darkness washed
And exhausted the girl fell to sleeping.
…………………………………………………………………………………………
Sometimes she could even feel things through brick walls Walking down the street and suddenly welling up Feeling sadness pouring through a closed front door Or sharp vibrations of anger through panes of glass
Colour rising involuntarily to her face as shame seeped out through the mortar here Or draining Pace quickening But forcing herself to stop and take note of where exactly she was As wave after wave of dread swept through Crept through her flesh
That day she made her eyes follow up Just in time to meet those that glanced out from behind the net curtain As the heavy dark drapes were being drawn She travelled few steps further down the road and took a small notebook from her pocket Writing the address lightly in Pencil Underlined Before deciding it was time to head somewhere quiet
On the way she purposely walked past the yellow door Virginia creeper draped itself along the warm red bricks and over the door frame This time she paused to be carried for just a few moments On the divine cloud of warmth Of Love That filled up this entire house and over spilled Like the scent of a good dinner cooking Inviting smiles all along the road
And she took the invitation A wide grin spreading out across her face Bouying her onward journey Making space for her to plan the next move
…………………………………………………………………………………………
As with any human sense or skill
We often assume
That each of us experience and process these signals and sensations in the same way
At the same time as knowing this is impossible
And that our perceptive interaction and engagement with the world around us
Is as varied and individual as we are.
It was this way with the gift too.
When she was very small she had taken for granted that everyone around her was the same
But once she started school she soon learned that in this particular way she was very different indeed.
And after that she kept mostly to herself
Believing that she must be entirely unique
Best to keep quiet.
Until she met Kizzy.
Kizzy had introduced her to the others
And even in their small local group a spectrum of different manifestations of the gift could be found.
Some people experienced it through taste,
Some through flashes of colour.
One of them could hear it in narrative sounds
Like an internal foley
But the experiential form was most common
Being able to feel it in your own body.
Again this sense was keener and more profound in some
And Kizzy experienced these feeling with such powerful intensity
That sometimes
Quite frankly
It was frightening.
Some days it definitely seemed more of a curse than a gift.
And really it was more common than she could ever have dreamed of as a child.
Social media enabled a massive network
Of those sharing this ability
Supporting each other across the globe.
She was enormously thankful for this and often fell to wondering how people coped before the internet allowed for it.
Amongst their number were a few entrepreneurial spirits who had turned this gift to their advantage,
World class chefs
Renowned Artists
Famed detectives turned successful crime writers
They had capitalised on the gift
Their secret knowledges tapping into the desires of many
Or solving puzzles others may find impossible.
A common side effect of possessing the gift was a sturdy social conscience
All things considered this was hardly a surprise.
Those who had managed to attain affluence through exercising this skill
Were the same benefactors that allowed her and the others to do their jobs
Funding the entire operation.
And with Kizzy in charge The local group had been quietly making huge progress over the last two years.
But the winds of change Were already beginning to blow And all that progress would soon Seem insignificant in the face of everything that was about to be lost.
……………………………………………………………………………………….
She woke up in a strange bed
Obviously in hospital
And for a minute could not remember how she came to be there
And then she caught her breath as the situation
Came crashing back into her head
In a chair in the corner her mother sat
Head uncomfortably angled to one side
Sleeping soundly
She looked a bit of a state
Evidently she must have rushed to be there and probably sat awake most of the night sick with worry
And it occurred to her that at some point she would have to come clean
She would have to explain it all
The last time she had been in a private room in a hospital
Was when her grandmother was dying
She pressed her eyes tightly together and tried to conjure up her lovely face
And how even in those final hours so much love and kindness
Had filtered through the confusion
Through the pain
She remembered that she came from a long line of strong women
She was tough
She would get through this
She was still alive
And at that point a wash of relief engulfed her
And she started to weep
Loud gasping sobs that immediately woke
Her Mother dozing in the chair
The woman propelled herself onto the edge of the bed
And cradled her adult daughters face in her hands
Hands that were warm and welcome and soon soggy with tears
She was wrapped up in a hug and the two of them
Were still there for what seemed like an age
Relishing the comfort of each other being present
Being safe
She heard the door open and was released from the embrace
Before she was quite ready.
It was the man
She had forgotten his name
His face was hard
Carved deeply with all of the traumas
He had to bear witness to
Just to do his job
But it was not unkind
And on second viewing
Far less frightening
He looked dishevelled
In the same shirt as before
And had clearly not had time to shave
A nurse followed closely behind
And deftly cut around in front of him
Beginning to fuss over the girl
Stating that he should not be here
He should let her rest
I’m sure she’s in no state to be questioned yet
But she was ready now
And full with her own questions that
Maybe talking to him would help her answer
She gripped her mother’s hand
Willing her to stay close by
And began
“How long was I asleep?”
…………………………………………………………………………………………
The late summer sun had started to sink
Low
Turning the edges of things a rose gold
Softening the embers of the roasting day
It was such a long time since they had met
She now found it hard to believe she had ever been
Nervous around him
Or had once thought him so severe
Yes
He had seen terrible things
But by that point already so had she
And he had a way of smiling that could set the world right
He made her tremble
In awe of his loveliness
And she thought it rather wonderful
That still
After all this time
A glance at him
Or small action
Or some passing remark
Could leave her short of breath
Heart thumping
Eyes smiling
Right now he was bent over a book
Sat in the chair at his desk
His computer open in front of him idle
The pencil in his left hand switching between
Scratching furiously at the dog eared and well used notebook
He was not far off finishing
And being pressed gently against the left corner of his mouth
Her stomach leapt a little as she took note
Of that place where his lips gently curled
Into the very beginnings of a smile
The very place she loved best
To gently deposit her goodnight kisses
As they settled content into bed
No doubt his work was very serious
At least he always took it very seriously
But his sense of purpose
His enormous desire to get things done
Stopped him from sinking
Mostly
And this was only one of the things about him that she greatly admired
And then these blessed
Ordinary moments at home
The two of them quietly working
Comfortable under their own steam
Occasionally catching each others eyes
And she would always grin and blush
Because she could feel reflected in him
As great a wealth of love
As she herself had sent over in that candid glance
And while it would be ridiculous to suggest
That their life together was unblemished
By the daily frustrations or silly bickering of any long term partnership
It was moments like this that made her feel
Like this life together was truly the most wonderful reason for waking
And she was enormously grateful for every day
Started cosy
Carefully held in between those busy arms
…………………………………………………………………………………………..
She had no idea how long exactly she stood there
Staring down at the threshold of the front door
At once familiar and alien
With the keys in her hand
Time had definitely passed
The windows were blocked up by dull grey shutters
And a fragment of police tape lay tattered and faded caught up
Trapped in a corner of the front wall
The black paint of the door was now peeling a little at the edges
Leaves had piled up in a drift
And been there so long they were crumbling and skeletal
She was trying to switch it off
Trying to be rational
Trying to stop the terrible images that were eager to rip through
Her minds eye
From playing in stormy surround sound Technicolor
So that she would be able to do what was needed
Turn the key on the lock and step inside.
She knew it was irrational to worry
About what she would find inside
The place had been thoroughly
Clinically cleaned down
Any evidence or trace of that day
Long removed
But the spirit of the happening still haunted these constant walls
And emotionally the echoes of fear and feeling
Almost to powerful to cope with
Were in real danger
Of leading her astray
A shadow passed over her trembling face
Flashing through her bright
Alert eyes
First she jammed the little key into the slightly rusted padlock
Jiggling it around before
Using more force than she would have liked to pop it open
She unclipped it and dropped it into her right coat pocket
Before siding back the great bolt it had been attached to
As she did she caught the leading edge of her index finger
On a sharp fragment of the thing
And immediately finger flew to mouth
She tasted her own blood
The Yale lock was easy
Despite lack of recent use
And she heard the door release itself
Jumping open a crack
Stale dusty air escaped and she told herself
It was important
Now was the time to be brave
She took a deep breath of the world outside
Hoping to carry that reality into the house with her
Opened the door wide
And stepped
Purposefully
Inside.
…………………………………………………………………………………………..
The last of the boxes had been packed ramshackle
With less care than they had deserved
Stuffed full into the back of the car
She looked back at the house
The shell of the home they had carefully built together
Now stripped bare and rendered
Nothing more than bricks and memories
She was hot and it was close to the wire
In less than an hour a moving van would arrive
With other people and all of their things
Ready to step into the space she had left behind
And begin their own next chapters here
But she
Was going home
Moving back in with mum and dad for a bit
Until she could fine a new domestic shell to crawl into and fill out
One last look nostalgic tears pricking at her eyes
The front garden in full bloom and finally coming into it’s own
A plant she had moved around with them since their wedding day
Leaves abundant and glossy
But peppered with tiny prickles
Left there where it had lain down deep roots and with gentle encouragement
Sun, water and air
Where it had been allowed to flourish and do it’s own thing
But now she would be leaving it here
Just another plant as far as its new owners by default were aware
Its fate in their hands now
Just one of the things that
She now must needs leave behind
Another trace
With meaning unclear to anyone here but her
Meaning that had now shifted so substantially
That to uproot and take it with her
Would be a cruelty to both plant and gardener
Best to let it be
Shed its leaves year on year still potentially growing right here
But unseen
And no longer her responsibility to nurture
Of no consequence anymore
She folded herself into the driver seat of the car
Checking the rear view mirror and seeing the weight of her own things
Stacked near to the roof with a narrow gap through which she carefully
Observed the road behind the car
Reversed around the corner for the last time
Before setting off
In what she hoped was the right direction
…………………………………………………………………………………………..
They sat across the table from one another
Kizzy was cradling the remains of a herbal tea in her slender hands
Fingers peppered with silver rings
Looking straight into her own blue eyes
This was day that they had met
Only hours beforehand
And the girl was full with wishing that this
Would be a day that would drip by slowly
Hours ticking by unnoticed forever if they liked
She was gripped by the desire to never be parted
From those quick and kind
Deep brown eyes that reeled her right in and left her heart fluttering
With joy and excitement
Some connections are so profound
And so well fitting
That our entire molecular structure and the soul that holds it all together
Relax and flood with pure relief
When we meet someone that we never knew until that moment
That we were desperately missing
And the most thrilling thing of all
Was that her gift
This unwieldy thing that she had until now tried her hardest to supress
To dampen down, deny and ignore
Told her definitively that Kizzy
This wonderful bundle of potential and curiosity and care
Of so many adventures and memories sure to built together
Was feeling exactly the same
And she celebrated within herself this palpable sense
Of the fast and unbreakable bond that had formed between them
Kizzy closed her eyes for a minute
A strange and pleasing
Tiny smile lighting up her face
“You feel it too right?”
Astonished
The girl blushed
Clearly not sure of what to say next
Kizzy reached across and grabbed her hand
Gripping in tight in an embrace dripping with warmth and jewellery
“I’m very glad to have met you. Let’s go for a walk.”
She pushed back her chair and without letting go led the girl out
Into the late September air.
…………………………………………………………………………………………..
She was devoid of feeling for the first time in her life
That she could remember
And she should have felt pain
Looking across at the terrible shell on the floor across from her
She should have been feeling
A tsunami of excruciating grief
And panic
And fear
But there was nothing
Nothing at all
Not even anything approaching numbness
Perhaps it was because
She was looking across at a thing
That no longer contained anything readable
Anything to be reflected or absorbed or encountered
This was just an empty vessel
With an uncannily familiar face
It’s mechanics shot
Fuel spilled out
Transforming the carpet all around its edges
But its contents
Vanished
She stared across at it
The sky outside had begun to lighten but she only noticed this as the colours
Of everything that was framing this now unpopulated face
Began to change
Whilst the unmoving features
Flat eyes, gaping mouth, taught cheeks
Remained pale as the winter moon
And it was this tiny subtle shift that brought her back
If only a little
Her limbs started to tingle and she suddenly realised she must have been
Laid there for hours
The blood that had soaked fully into the pile
Had pooled beneath her too and gone sticky and cold
It’s limits writing themselves onto her own skin
A thin dark crusty tide line left unnoticed for the momen.t
She stiffly lifted herself a little and shuffled over towards it
It seemed so much smaller than
It had been when it was filled up with life
It was cold to the touch too
But even so she pulled the body close
Buried her face in it’s hair
And laid there together with it
Until they broke down the door
And pried it forcefully it from her arms.
…………………………………………………………………………………………
The hole that someone can leave in your life
In their absence
Is not a thing that can be filled
The edges just collapse a little
Eroding over time
Which makes it a little easier to negotiate
To travel through it
Rather than skirting around
Or standing helplessly bereft at the sharp edge
All that energy
Previously taking up space in your own life
Gone where
The solid, tangible tangles of emotions and ideas
Packed tightly into text messages,
Love letters,
Notes passed in class,
Phone calls,
Emails,
Comments on social media,
As well as a physical form that might hold or caress or clumsily bump
And sometimes reach for your hand at exactly the right moment
Sometimes it just moves away
Gets retracted
Given to somebody else
And sometimes it is gone forever
But always we are left wondering
Where it goes
And why
Somebody had taken a spade
And cut the edges of this one back in
The girl was unaware that this had happened
Until the very moment when she lost her footing there
And tumbled deeply back down to the bottom
Grazing knees and
Blossoming in bruises on the way down
………………………………………………………………………………………….
Kizzy had always been the more motivated of the two girls
The most likely to make and embrace change if she was unhappy
And much more confident and quick to chase opportunity
She had always been convinced that Kizzy was the brave one
Perhaps as they had grown older this had changed
And if it had
She wondered how she hadn’t noticed
How she hadn’t felt the shift
After university they had ended up in different places
Sometimes hundreds of miles apart
Different lovers and friends had drifted in and out
Their own families expanded and contracted with the cycles of life
But their deep friendship had remained a constant
A fixed emotional point around which other parts of themselves revolved
But way back then in the early days
She was not at all surprised when Kizzy
Breathless with excitement
Had introduced her to the others
And excessively grateful for that handful of folk that pulled together
In the complexities of youth and first battles of independence
To quietly help on another through university
And attempt to understand their own gifts
She was not surprised
When years later
She picked up the phone
Having just moved home
After the breaking of everything
And Kizzy
Closer than she had ever been since those first years of their friendship
With that self same breathy enthusiasm
Skipped almost straight past the comforting words
Panned the obvious pep talks that she was already tired of hearing
And dived headlong into an invitation that would change
The expected course of her life
At this point
And with everything that followed
‘You’ve really got to come and meet everyone! I mean you remember Ade from Uni but they are all really brilliant! I think it would be good for you, being around so many of us that just know, you know, what it feels like, especially with what you’re going though! And there are enough of us in the area… we can do it, finally, we’ve been talking about it forever… We can really make a difference here I think. If anything at least it’ll take your mind off of all your shit…’
The girl was no longer really a girl
With a small child of her own in tow
A broken marriage and the broken heart that goes along with it
But as she put down the phone
Charged to overflowing with Kizzy’s palpable excitement
There was no way she could pass this up
She dropped her girl off with her mother,
Kissing her daughter’s small fragrant head and enjoying the squeeze of that tiny hand in her own,
Before heading into the city that very afternoon
Butterflies fluttering inside.