The bed sheets are damp with sweat. The muggy, warm air offers no relief. I unwrap myself and lie on top of the duvet. This weather has to break soon. It isn't just the close atmosphere that has made me sweat. I had been dreaming of her again. Vague images of my dream come back … Continue reading DREAMING OF HEATHER
'Yer gonna be late,' his ma shouted at him from the kitchen. 'Ahm jist tryin' tae get masel' lookin' right, ma,' he called back. 'It's too late fer that, son,' she replied, 'about fifteen years too late.' She didn't understand, this was the night he would ask Justine. He should have done it before now. … Continue reading THE DANCE
'It's over.' He tried to remain calm, speaking in an even and clear voice, no raised voices or dramatic gestures. 'Typical!' She yelled her reply, trying to elicit a reaction from him. This was the problem with their relationship - he was always so passionless, so clinical, so frigid. 'Just keep cool.' Over-the-top histrionics, letting … Continue reading DUMPED
Her scarlet red hair tumbled down her back as she released it, cascading over her pale, white skin. He reached out and felt the smoothness of her, brushing the hair over her shoulder and tracing a line down her spine to the hollow above her buttocks. 'After all this is over, we could escape together.' … Continue reading SCARLET RED
'We'll always have Paris.' Yeah, right. Now look at those memories: faded, crumpled and tossed in the dumpster. She was just like all the rest of those broads, dames and dolls. As soon as she had stepped on that plane she had forgotten about me. Back to her old life, her passionless marriage of convenience. … Continue reading WE’LL ALWAYS HAVE PARIS
