Writing

Stolen Metaphors & Changed lines

Being with you is electric,
shocks replaced with butterflies,
perilous and sweet.
The dark and the rain and tea and fish,
mean nothing to most but everything to me.
Being with you changes everything,
hugs more than hugs,
words more than words,
kisses more than kisses…
Even time.
Being with you changes time,
be it the ticking of a clock
or the beating of my heart,
time is never quite enough around you.
Being with you is unconditional,
if you were a storm
I’d be dancing with the thunder.
Being with you is my now.
Being with you is my happy.
Being with you is my future.
Being with you is fantastic.

Advertisements
poetry · Writing

A Poem about a Girl

Dark and the quiet of comfort,
two minds, so different yet travelling together
and for a while all is settled.
Life stops rocking but my heart still beats.
We said romance is but a dream,
but this is better.
This is real.
I don’t know a lot,
I don’t know you yet,
I don’t know me yet,
and I don’t know us yet.
But I do know,
I want to.
Seven hours is a long time
but it goes by so quickly.

Unfinished Stories · Writing

Water Cooler Conversation

There was nothing amiss with the sounds that came from the offices of McNorton incorporated, or of the people who walked in and out of its large glass doors. 

There was nothing inherently sinister about its white ceramic reception desk, and certainly nothing malicious about the young intern sat behind it typing quietly into a computer. 

In fact McNorton Inc Resource management was so unremarkable benign, that even the finance department, widely regarded as the most evil of all departments were often described as happy and amicable people. Even those people many would condone as actually evil or at least slightly corrupt were of a more pleasant kind. The higher management, the kind of men and one equally fierce woman, with large offices full of trophies and books and windows designed to remind you of the buildings height were all very charitable and considered kind and fair employers. 

So it was a huge shock to everybody, me included, when the demon did first appear.

It was Monday and Sharon was tired,what was supposed to be a few drinks on a Saturday evening had resulted in her waking up at in a strangers house Sunday afternoon, and she was still being haunted by the remnants of a hangover. That and she’d lost one of her favourite bras. 

Gary walked past  the desk where Sharon was trying very hard to look she wasnt on Facebook and gave her a shy smile. He had read somewhere that it was the safest type of smile to give a woman you admired. 

Sharon looked over at him not dissimilar to how she would have looked at a fox thatgot into her rubbish last Friday, trance mixture of pity and annoyance and went back to Facebook one her friend about bras. 

Gary was overjoyed, she looked at me he thought gleefully to himself as he walked into a chair. 

Tim watched all of this unfold over the top of his computer screen. He felt a bit sorry for sorry for Gary, he had no chance with Sharon, she thought she was a lot prettier than she was, simply cause she slept with a lot of men. 

Tim was the strange kind of quiet person that realised things like, sleeping with lots of people usually means you’re not as pretty as you think you are. 

Unfinished Stories · Writing

The Fall

He took two steps forward and felt the floor dissappear beneath him. There was a quick rush of air as the room rushed up past his head, followed by a sickly stillness. 

He was still falling, of that he was aware, but the walls around him were unchanging. Vast expanses of grey, stretching out to, he looked down to check, what seemed eternity. Knowing what was at the bottom helped he thought, there was somebody waiting for him. The fall was just part of the process. They always were big fans of ceremony. 

As he continued to fall his mind wondered back to how exactly he’d ended up here. I guess it all began with that cat, he thought to himself, or the girl, bit it made him feel a lot better just to blame the cat. 

It was a rather unexciting cat, a small scrawny dirty looking animal. It was also stuck in Chris’ bin. He had noticed it as he took his rubbish out that morning, the thing had managed to get itself in the bin and close the lid on itself. Or somebody had thrown it away. The latter seemed more likely Chris had decided, the thing did look an awful way past its expiry date, and also did not appear as it was very friendly even before it had been shut in his bin. Chris looked reproachfully at this sorry excuse for a pet. 

Unfinished Stories · Writing

Typical Friday Night

He opened up the fridge and counted, 7 slices of salami, half a pack of cheese, 3 tomatoes, a jar of mayonnaise, guardian of the outermost Vetraxi Dominion, 2 slices of leftover pizza, 2 out of date yoghurt pots and a carton of milk. 

Micheal reached in, took the pizza and a yoghurt and shut the door. He wandered through to the living room, took a seat on the less burnt side of the couch and flicked on the T.V. After a short channel surf he eventually ended up watching cartoons as he quietly ate. 

He went for his phone, felt it wasn’t on his pocket and sighed. Putting down his pizza Micheal walked out his front room and further down his corridor to where a large clear tarpaulin had been set up. He poked his head through this to the great dissaproval of the group of men on the other side. 

“You’re not supposed to leave the incident zone” A man in a dark suit snapped at him. 

“I haven’t” Micheal said gesturing to himself. 

“This isn’t some kind of joke boy” Grumbled another man in a lab coat, holding what appeared to be a cheap Walkman adorned with straps of LED’s. “You need to be-” 

“Can I have my phone back? ” Micheal cut in. 

The three men looked at each other for a short while until eventually the one in the dark suit produced a radio and mumbled some words into it. With a curt nod towards the third man, who had not yet spoken, also dressed in a lab coat, Micheal was eventually handed his phone. 

“We can see everything you do on it”

“Fine” said Micheal and trapsed back into the living room. 

Unfinished Stories

The Girl in the Patchwork Coat

People walk by, I’m not sure they’ve realised yet.

The street isn’t quite what it seems, though people don’t quite care to notice. The cobbles you see, it’s small but there’s a larger difference in height between them. The slightest difference, but enough to feel under your feet, if you notice these kind of things. The grey of the concrete also, was not quite the same shade of grey it had been before. It was as if somebody had been asked to recreate that shade of grey with one too few paints. An insignificant detail, practically unnoticeable to somebody just walking through town in search of say, Trousers and Orange Juice. Something people had noticed though was the man. He was stood at the side of the street, doing nothing much more than leaning against the wall, looking at his phone. Ordinary enough, he was dressed as one would expect on a cold November afternoon, Coat, Hat, Scarf. Perfectly unmemorable. So he had been, as I said, noticed, but nobody had actually taken any notice of him. In fact this street had been changed like this for about eight hours before anybody took any real notice.

Charlie wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck as he left his house at seven that morning. It was a morning as drearily ordinary as any that had been by recently. Charlie had woken up, had a quick shower, got changed, eaten some toast and left for work. The cold winter had very much arrived and was making itself comfortable in the outskirts of London as Charlie left Oakgrove estates and walked his way into town. The usual people walked past him, some new, in town for the day to shop, or have some form of business meeting. Some old, like Mr. Peterson walking his dog, a regular at Charlie’s place of work.

Charlie blew a warm mist on his fingers as he reached the roundabout that marked the start of the town centre. It was there that Charlie first met the strange girl in the coat and the older man who watched over her. Often he would think back to this chance encounter and speculate what his life would be like if he had taken a different route to work. Little did he actually know that it wouldn’t have been all that different at all, and he was part of a big list of events determined to happen regardless of such small obstacles as the route one takes to work.

Anyway as Charlie walked down the street a very strange set of events were taking place in front of him. Firstly a teenage girl in a patch-worked, multicoloured jacket was storming down the street practically knocking people over as she marched towards him.

Unfinished Stories

A Battle for the City

Vengeance moved to make the final adjustments to the vaporisation laser, cloak flowing behind him. He was rushing, he was already behind schedule. Vengeance had a date tonight.

Blaze’s phone beeped, an alert from a few streets over, small time burglary. She checked the time, if she was quick and didn’t wait for the police…. She would have time, she thought, she didn’t want to be late for her date.

Penny climbed up through the back window as always, and started the arduous process of removing a skintight superhero suit. This she mused to herself, was definitely the biggest downfall to being a superhero. There was cuts and bruises, they were easy enough to hide, broken limbs were always more awkward to deal with, but she healed damn fast anyway. So yes, removing some sweaty tight leggings and an even tighter top of a night was by far one of the worst parts. Especially when she was late.

Luke hang up his cloak carefully in the hole behind the cupboard door and went about picking a shirt for the night. His outfit was quick and easy to pick out, so he started sketching out some new blueprints, one eye carefully watching the clock. Not too long later he picked up his files, hiding them carefully in another hidden compartment. Luke sighed, hiding was difficult, people never really understood and he doubted they ever would. He fixed his hair, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

An expensive looking yet cheap restaurant, eight p.m. Luke was sat at a table dressed in an expensive looking yet cheap suit, watching couples through the window. It was nice at times, he thought, having two separate lives. If Vengeance had been here people would be running, screaming, but here he was….. Invisible. He thoroughly enjoyed it.

Ten minutes past eight and Penny arrived, her Dad having given her a lift, which she hated. Cars were rather pointless to her, but it was not like she could run everywhere, she would ruin her dress for a start. She could see Luke sitting inside so she gave him a quick wave through the window. He looked up from his phone and delivered her a quick smile in return. She felt guilty for being late, Luke was always on time. She patted down her dress and headed inside.

Luke put down his phone and watched Penny walk in, she looked wonderful dressed up in her sparkly black dress, like she’d just stepped off of the red carpet. She also always managed to look like she had just gone for a jog. Both were for some reason unbelievably attractive qualities. Luke stood up to pull out a chair for her and she gave him a quick hug to say hello. She always smelt of flowers, it was a very pleasant smell.

Penny smiled as she sat down. Luke was always so gentlemanly and kind, he was also quiet, but not in an awkward way. He was just generally a real nice guy, a lot better than most guys in her life. To be fair most of the guys in her life consisted of Jocks from sports meets, petty criminals, and that damned Vengeance guy. That guy, was the worst, with his countless plans and schemes, constantly threatening and attacking the city. Also he was the only bad guy she could never seem to catch.

Luke watched Penny reading the menu while absently picking at the bread. She ate a lot for such a thin girl. He lifted up his menu, nursing his wrist as he did so. It had been sprained in a fight with that ridiculous woman Blaze, and despite his healing band, still ached. Blaze, he thought to himself, what a symbol of pure naivety, parading around the city protecting the ‘innocent’ people who loved her so. Luke was all too aware of how ‘innocent’ most people were, and how you didn’t have to wear a mask and cape to be evil. There was a lot of people that Blaze had saved who were far worse than him.

The waitress walked over to take the pairs order. Luke ordered a Caesar salad, Penny a large steak with extra onion rings. Strange pair she thought, cute couple though.

“Penny, I was wondering, after dinner….” Luke trailed off. Girls, especially pretty ones, were not his speciality. Penny grinned at him through a mouthful of food, this he decided, helped.

“Shall we head back to yours?” She finished for him, he had been dying to ask all night. Girls, she decided, were not Luke’s area of expertise. This flustered him.

“Errmm yeah, like, we could watch a film or something…” Penny laughed. Luke found this adorable and decided then to make a point of it happening more often.

“You’re adorable Luke”

“Uh… Thank you?”

“Don’t worry, it’s a good thing”

“Then.. Um.. Thank you” He replied with more enthusiasm. That made Penny laugh again. Good, thought Luke.

After finishing their meals and drinks and paying their bill, they grabbed their jackets and decided to take the walk back to Luke’s place. It was a cold night but the pair barely noticed as they walked down the street, Penny’s hand carefully placed in one of Luke’s.

Unfinished Stories

The Cat-astrophe

Jeremy knew it was a bad idea as he threw the cat. Nothing good comes from throwing cats he thought to himself, but of course it had, at one point, seemed like a great idea.

His train of thought had been a pretty solid one up until the point Jeremy had decided to actually go through with his plan. He was correct in the fact that yes, it would be very funny to throw a cat at your enemy, say for example Gary from across the road. And he was also correct in thinking that the cat would be most displeased and would probably take out his frustration on Gary’s big stupid face.

What Jeremy had neglected to take into consideration though was the consequences. This in Jeremy’s defence is a far too regular flaw with Human Beings.

Unfinished Stories

Rain

He sighed, a heavy sigh full of life, and threw on his coat. It was raining outside again, heavy drops hammered against his window, a rhythm synonymous with the cold and the dark. He stopped in the corridor as he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he was a mess. His thick black hair rested over his face in the same place it was when he got put of bed that morning and his eyes were dark, restless and reflected a sad clarity he didn’t feel comfortable looking at any longer. 

He tightened his scarf and opened the door. As the door slammed shut and he started walking towards the rain splattered courtyard he listened out for a response. Any call of recognition or notice. More than all he longed for the door to open after him and to hear a voice beckon him him back home. It never came, perhaps once, but not anymore. 

He took his first steps outside and felt the cold hit him. The pincers of the December wind pulling at his arms and cheeks. The rain trying its hardest to wash him away with it. Sometimes he wished it could, wash him away, his thoughts and all and he could be free, nothing but the journey to the sea to care for. Of course though he was not rain but Human and instead of running down the street towards a drain he was left walking, pushing his hands in his pockets to fight off the biting cold. 

He walks for a while before he realises he has no real idea of destination. 

Unfinished Stories

My Biggest Issue with Writing

So I love writing,  or I love the idea of writing. I’m not very good at finishing a story, and because of this I have a long list of started stories, varying in length and tone which I plan on putting up here for you internet strangers to hate and enjoy at your own pleasure. And perhaps this will encourage me to actually keep up with some of them and finish a story for like the first time in my life. So a few long hours of copying words from notepads into my phone at the kitchen table and you’ll all see the inside of my mind. 

Hold on tight.