quiet sea

Posted March 9, 2009 by richard
Categories: general, ideas, prose, snippets

Sometimes he felt the sea too quiet. It lapped the butterscotch sand with a soft whisper next to him. He closed his eyes and the whisper gave no hint as to the vastness of it. His feet sank slightly. Cool damp seeped through his trainers. He clenched his toes against the cold and opened his eyes again. A fine ripple crashed and raced a foot or two up the beach.

There were no stones to skip. He couldn’t bring himself to look harder for any.

The sea whispered and he wanted it to shout, and to shout back at it. She wasn’t there with him. He crossed his arms and kicked a haggard clump of seaweed towards the water. He remembered the concentric ripples as her perfect skimmers danced across the opalescent water.

That was a different sea.

His feet sank again as he stood still, feeling the chill touch of the whispering water.

She wasn’t coming back.

walk away

Posted February 2, 2009 by richard
Categories: general, ideas, prose, snippets

He placed his empty pint glass on the bar and watched for a moment as the foamy remains of the head slipped down the glass and collected in the bottom. A nod at the barman. A thanks, a short one.

The bar filled up. The regulars sifting through the awkward doors and taking their usual seats. Laughter rose from the table in the corner, where he’d been sitting. He didn’t look back.

At the door he let a couple of familiar faces fall into the pub before sliding out. A gentle rain met him with a soft hiss as it hit the cars and cobbles. He blinked at it and heard the laughter again. The doors shut behind him and he stepped down the two short steps. He blinked again and there was only the hiss of the rain.

wedding chat

Posted January 27, 2009 by richard
Categories: general, ideas, snippets

She was beautiful.

She was crying.

But it was the middle wedding, so I sort of brushed it off as such.

I was a bit drunk, so I’m not sure I remember her name.

In fact, I don’t.

But we had a lovely chat.

She was too lovely to be that upset at such a great party, and I told her so.

Her boyfriend didn’t like that so much.

listening. soon.

Posted November 26, 2008 by richard
Categories: general, ideas, poetry, snippets, verse

He listened as he walked.
Hands shoved into his pockets.
Scarf wrapped tight.
Sepia lights cast
spiderweb shadows of
bare and skeletal
trees.
The whispers in the dark echoed.
Words unspoken.
Unwritten.
For now.

apologies

Posted October 31, 2008 by richard
Categories: general

Apologies for the lack of activity on this blog. Writer’s block followed by medical issues are at fault. Both issues should be resolved shortly. Thanks for popping by.

on toast ii

Posted August 16, 2008 by richard
Categories: general

‘You’re wet. Soaking in fact.’

He sipped the tea softly, with a whispered slurp. Brewed strong with one sugar and a dash of milk. It warmed him from the inside, reminding him how cold he’d been.

‘Yeah. Got caught in the rain. It was nice.’

‘I watched you. From the window. You sat in it.’

His bit into his toast with a satisfying crunch. He grinned as he chewed.

‘Just felt like it.’

He wiped a crumb from his mouth with his thumb. They heard it, the percussion against the windows, the roof. There were bursts that shook the building, or so it seemed. The noise of the rain drowned out the howl of the wind. Almost.

She tugged her bathrobe, closing it tighter, the roar of the torrent carrying a chill.

‘Hot shower?’

He said it with a mouthful of toast, his face pale with the cold wet. The corners of her mouth turned up a touch.

‘That sounds perfect.’

pub chat ii

Posted July 25, 2008 by richard
Categories: dialogue, ideas, prose, stories

Tags: , , , ,

She made her way back through the rapt crowd. They stared at the televisions suspended from the ceiling.

She stared at him. Her fingers flicked as she took her seat again. Her hair fell again. She cursed and pushed it behind her ear.

‘Fucking smoking ban.’

He rolled his eyes. She was already fiddling with another cigarette. From the filter end she twirled it around her thumb and forefinger. The nail on her thumb was chipped, the polish peeling a touch. He watch it twirl. She watched him.

‘I’m not going to smoke it yet. I just need something to do. And you’re avoiding the subject.’

‘I’m not. I just need to order another beer.’

‘Go on then. And stop stealing sips from mine. Thieving bastard.’

Too many eyes on the game for a queue at the bar. He ordered two pints and tapped his knuckles against the hardwood. The other half of the bar gasped, sighed and then shouted the odd profanity. Jeers followed.

‘So how long does she need to think for?’

He’d only just sat back down.

‘I don’t know. I hadn’t planned a schedule. Neither, I think, did she.’

She reminded him of some 40’s newshound from some generic film noir piece. Hurried, impatient, right. She tapped the butt of the cigarette on the table again. Jennifer Jason Leigh in The Hudsucker Proxy. Prettier though. She didn’t take her eyes off him.

‘Is she that stupid?’

‘Again, a little harsh.’

‘Are you that stupid?’

‘Probably.’

She finished her first beer and pushed the empty glass aside, drawing the new one towards her. She used the hand that wasn’t twirling the cigarette.

‘No, dammit, you are NOT that fucking stupid.’

‘Well maybe I am. Maybe I’m just that fucking stupid.’

‘She doesn’t love you. Love isn’t about thinking about anything. Love’s when you don’t have to think. Love’s not thinking.’

‘So’s being stupid.’