The Cloud Dragon

 

 We were playing that game though I don’t think either of us made a conscious decision to start it.  You just said ‘look at that hamster shaped cloud’ and I said ‘it looks more like a raccoon’ and you said I had no idea what a raccoon looked like and I said ‘probably not like a hamster’ and so on.  And you then said ‘hey there’s a hole in the clouds just like a heart’ and I snapped it on my mobile.  I’m sure you’ve played this kind of game many times.  We sat for a while quitely watching the ever changing cloudscape move across the sky.  Suddenly I said ‘look there’s a dragon’, and there it was the most perfect cloud dragon you could ever imagine stretched out across the sky as far as you could see.  It reached out its claws to grasp at the sun and then in a few seconds it lost its form completely but for a second or two it was the perfect dragon. 

Even Odder Shorts

For the love of Debbie

There was a moment in my life when I felt lost and at that precise moment I found Debbie and something clicked.  We were both in the 6^th form at school but she was a year older.  She was pretty, cool, intelligent, so I was more than happy she wanted to hang out with me.  She didn’t care what anyone thought so hanging out with me wasn’t a problem even though I was a year younger.  She lived for the moment and seemed to understand me and accept me.  We liked the same music and she had a part time job working as a cloakroom assistant in a nightclub which seemed so interesting to me at the time.  We did crazy things like playing guitar in the school corridor and bunked off together to go to the park to smoke and talk about anything.  I wrote poems about her, but never told her they were about her, and even composed songs inspired by her.  I wrote long love letters trying to explain how I felt about her but never sent them.  She was the cause of more than a few restless nights.

More Odd Shorts

Trying to Listen

Why is it I don’t hear you any more?  What ever you say doesn’t register in my brain.  I am trying to listen but as soon as I hear your voice the connection is severed and the sounds fade into the background.  I am somehow automatically tuning out everything you say.  You say ‘are you even listening to me at all?’ and I don’t reply.  You say ‘would you notice if I wasn’t here?’ I don’t hear you.  I am trying to listen but the further we drift apart the harder it is to hear.

The White Mansion Part One

 

 I often used to write facing the balcony and the only thing in view was the rear of a single gleaming white mansion house across the road.  I referred to this house as the ‘White Mansion celebrity house’ though I had no idea who actually lived there.  Whenever I walked past this house I studied its construction.  Access to the car parking area was via a stainless steel door like a large version of those used to secure shops.  I could tell at a glance that no expense had been spared in its construction and the place was designed with security firmly in mind with discrete cameras built in to cover every possible approach.  The front of the house could be viewed from the very bottom of the hill as it overhung a steep hillside and therefore had uninterrupted views.  I once saw a white Mercedes with blacked out windows drive out but that was the only sign I saw of what you might refer to as human habitation.  I never saw any rubbish bags or anything on the various collection days so I assumed it was only occupied when the owner was in Okinawa.

The Difference Between Leaving and Staying

 

On days like this I don’t know what I want or what you want.  Both of us trapped in this life neither doing what we want to do and crucially not accepting our lot.  We both escape in different ways from this life we made.  You know that I don’t want this anymore and neither do you.  I no longer want the days of brooding silence, misery, or the shouting matches and constant dragging up of old scores that will never be settled.  I always lose in the end and isn’t that something you don’t like either?  You are always more exhausted or have worked harder and had to cope with more of everything than me and I will always think that that is not true.  You have said you want me to do more than just work and return home exhausted late at night. 

Of course I would like to have the energy to do more but if I get off the treadmill then all the other pieces would fall wouldn’t they?  You want me to spread myself too thin and then accuse me when I fight back of being extreme or when I talk of walking away or reversing our roles you laugh.  You really don’t understand what it is like to work for others and then to see nothing for all the work you have done month after month-it is soul destroying.

What is the difference between my leaving or staying with you?  I really want to know how our lives would be improved or suffer either way.  Is it so hard to answer?  What price are you willing to pay to achieve your freedom from me and would you ever truly be free?  If I were to stay then I would do so as a broken man my dreams unpursued or pursuable, utterly frustrated and defeated, less than a man.  If I leave there is a chance I might find happiness and rebuild what has been lost in our wars.  It might at least be worth a try wouldn’t it?

The Ghost of Route 331

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was walking alone on a road called Route 331.  How I came to be walking along this road isn’t really worth relating but suffice to say I needed some time on my own to think and I have found that a long walk helps me to think.  In fact the problem I have is ending a walk because once started I will just keep on walking and thinking almost oblivious to all else.  So I started walking with the intention of walking until Route 331 intersected Route 329 and then hopefully find myself near to home.  I guess a walk like that would be 20 miles and I guessed that I would be home around 10:30 pm at the latest.