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Ain’t It Lovely to Receive An Award!?

Hey guys!

It has been a while since I was blessed with an award, but this dry spell has officially ended. Recently, the quirkiest quirky girl ever (whose blog can be found at the following link: nominated me for the One Lovely Blog Award! Thank you Ma’am!


Now, apparently I am supposed to link to my nominator’s blog (check), show the award on my blog (check), nominate fifteen other bloggers (on my to do list), and additionally,  I am meant to share seven riveting facts about myself…Well, in that case, sit back, and prepare to have your minds blown (not really).

Super Amazing Fact 1: I am quite the Anime fan, my favorites been Ghost in the Shell (I have a massive crush on the Major) (also, I recently pre-ordered Arise) and Appleseed (which I have the entire collection of, including the original 1989 version, the movie adaptions of the TV series, and the recent addition, Alpha). I also quite enjoy Patlabor, the Aquarion series, STR.A.IN, Star Wars Clone Wars, Shangri-La, and the animated adaptions of video games, including Halo Legends, Mass Effect Paragon Lost, Dead Space Downfall and Aftermath, and Dragon Age Dawn of the Seeker. I believe I enjoy animated features and shows because often many of the lead protagonists are comprised of very powerful female characters, who are not only capable of kicking ass, but are realistically portrayed.
On a side note, I also enjoy Red vs. Blue, and have the ten years of Red vs. Blue box set.

Super Amazing Fact 2: Presently, I am in my final semester of my Postgraduate Masters course. Part of me will be glad when this is officially over because the 15,000 word thesis is kicking me in places I don’t like being kicked. What I find most annoying, is that every time I speak with my adviser, there are brand new criticisms he wishes to bring to my attention; criticisms that were non-existent the last time, and so I need to take these into account and make further amendments. For instance, one week he would say how a paragraph is great, and the next time, that same unedited paragraph, is suddenly not worth keeping. I mean, come on Doc! Make up your mind already!
However, I am unsure where I wish to go from here; should I (if I have the required grades) go on to do my doctorate (which would assist me in becoming a tutor at university), or should I do a Master of Teaching (which would grant me the ability to teach at secondary schools)?

Super Amazing Fact 3: I recently changed internet providers. I have been using Optus for, well, years actually, and I have been impressed with the service thus far (on most occasions), however the 15 gigabyte a month plan I had was beginning to feel restrictive, and now I have access to unlimited internet for a cheaper price. This has especially come in handy with my copy of Destiny on Xbox One (at present I’m a level 24 Blade Dancer) . On that note, are there any bloggers online (who I happen to know) that play Destiny? When it comes to temporarily teaming up with random strangers, it might actually be nice to have some kind of history with the players.

Furthermore, an alternative subject; does anyone know when Ghost in the Shell Online is coming out? I know the developers said early to mid 2014 back in February, but I’m not seeing it…

Super Amazing Fact 4: When it comes to movies, I don’t have a particular genre preference – I will often try anything if it looks even moderately appealing. When it comes to reading on the other hand, I can very rarely stand contemporary fiction, especially the Australian variety, where often life in the country seems to be a major theme, which does nothing to impress me in the slightest. When writing my own material however, especially prose or novels, I have a tendency to enjoy developing science fiction oriented pieces, which is a problem in Australia when it comes to looking for a publisher. Although magazines like Aurealis accept submissions of speculative fiction, larger publishers rarely do, with many of the literary agents and/or publishers that ever did accept such work either going out of business, or since adjusting their preferences regarding the type of work they choose to endorse/publish.

Super Amazing Fact 5: I have an avid fascination with jewellery. Apart from a watch, I almost always have at least two other wrist bands on (one of which is my medic alert bracelet – wouldn’t want to forget that), and on top of this, I never leave home without a necklace. I have pierced ears, with two rings in my left and one in my right, which I often swap. On occasions when I go out (for instance, next week I’ll be attending a poetry reading in the city), I wear much larger designs, two of which are these massive skulls with bright red eyes.

Super Amazing Fact 6: I don’t have many male friends; most of my friends happen to be gals. Most guys I know outside of the net talk either about cars (the only time I care about cars is when the one I’m in stops working) or AFL (which I used to enjoy, and I even played football on occasion (not professionally of course), but, kicking an oddly shaped red ball from one side of the field to the next just doesn’t really do it for me). The reason I mention this, is because I have in the past become attracted to some of my friends; in fact, my last girlfriend was actually a best friend of mine. Obviously men and women can be friends, this is a proven fact, however for me, sometimes I think that perhaps a man wakes up one day and realizes the young lady he has been searching for has been beside him all along. I guess the point I’m making is that if you’re a young woman who happens to be a friend of mine, one day (unless you’re married), I might just happen to fall in love with you. You have been warned!

Super Amazing Fact 7: None of these super amazing facts have been really super amazing, and even I am thoroughly disappointed by that.

After the reveal of these super amazing facts, my mission goal is to nominate 15 other people. Okay then, without further ado (cliche’ I know), allow me to say – I have no intention of nominating anyone. I literally follow hundreds of people on WordPress! Am I really expected to pick 15 bloggers? What about the other few hundred lovely blogs that I don’t nominate? So, allow me to say, if you have a lovely blog and you happen to read this text, if you want the One Lovely Blog Award, it is yours! I don’t want to miss out on nominating someone who deserved the award, and I am certain if you are reading this, you are as deserving of it as anyone else.

Thank you for stopping by guys! And thank you again to the Quirky Girl for this nomination. Have a great day!

A Discovery of Agonising Proportions

The sun sets on the knowledge
of how I am not destined to be
granted much extraordinaire
in the life I call my own, the
destined conclusion writ
upon a pale night sky,
serenading me with a sweet
prose of bitter sadness on
how an artist of impeccable
talent I am not to portray, the
whimsical figure of my despair
becoming my truly agonising

I was born to love thee

I was born to be kissed by your lips;
to place my hands upon the
curvature of your center and feel
my way towards your back. I was
born to have my heart of
palpitating energy groomed by
your beating passion; to have
feelings of such extreme intensity,
I could not live without. I was
born to be seduced by the scent of
your ravishing fragrances and
perfumes; to admire your shapely
figure and feel nothing less than
exponential longing to have your
flesh attached to mine, like a tattoo
of unwavering flawlessness. I was
born to nibble my way down your
back and pluck every portion of
your front with my tongue of
tantalising enjoyment; to pleasure
everything of yours once the moon
is stretched towards its pinnacle. I
was born only to love thee, to hold
you close at night; to feel the rise
and fall of your chest against mine,
and the warmth of your internal
magic. I was born to marry you, to
see you walk on down the aisle,
and to sign the vowel of your
heart’s ownership forevermore. I
was born to be with you, and such
is my destiny, and even if you do
not notice me today, I know fate
will shine upon our lives in a
future not far from now, for much
like poetry, my love does not
conform, nor does it follow rules,
breaking all of them as it screams
for those once silenced in their

Unaccepted by Destiny

When I was young; when
I was a novice of the
written word, I asked
an adept manufacturer
of creation how it was
that she could articulate
a poem; and she said to
me, in happiness, ‘just
write what it is you feel.’
But what if I have no
feelings? What if no one
wants to know the feelings
in my heart? What if the
woman I am attempting
to woo with much
affection cares not for
my avid love, for that
right there, that four
letter word, is what I feel
right now; but how to
get the beating heart of
my wishful paramour to
arrange a time to hear
me out this day? I cannot,
that is the answer, and I
never will, the irony of
this occasion being
blinding to the senses. I
became a poet to express
that which I could not
any other way, and even
then after so much time
had passed and I had
tried my hardest to
succeed, I was a failure
in my maiden’s eyes of
cruelty. She could not
feel a thing for me, and
never was there an
attempt to spare my
heart which beat for her
so eagerly every time I
breathed, and without
her in my life this night,
what more is there to
say? How can I express
my sadness to an
audience not within my
proximity; an audience
who shall never hear my
voice or even know my
name? I have my words
to give to you, but shall
they ever be enough,
for never could they
captivate the darling I
was hoping to ensnare.
You may also have my
tears as they dribble
forth from my eyes
before being plucked
by the parchment I am
using as the conveyance
for my thoughts. But
never shall anyone again
have my heart, for that
desolate muscle of
passionate throes is
now officially obsolete; it
has crumbled into
nothingness and left me
bereft with an eternally
empty wound that
shall never heal; for if
my destined lover
could not accept me,
I do believe it is obvious
that no one ever will.

The Unchosen Choice in Destiny

I was told ‘I love you’ once,
but now those days
are just an echo in my mind,
for never shall these words
of three, pass over the tongue
and through the moist lips
of another potential paramour
again. In a vain attempt
to avoid the pain that comes
with heartache, I find myself
blessed that I can become
like a robot on occasion,
and walk stiffly like a cyborg
would, rather than move
fluidly like a human,
for if I walk like the majority
of this planet’s population
society will be disgusted.
Never have I been real good
at acting like a human, and
the people I come in contact
with can effortlessly see through
my masquerade, and although
I hate the fact that after
all this trouble, I still feel the dark
emotions of a traumatised
soul flourishing through
my senses, I know not
how to conclude such a feeling.
Unlike a watch in dire need
of repair, with parts that can be
easily switched out for new
features, I cannot be mended,
and shall instead remain forever
broken indefinitely. I cannot foresee
a potential future where
I am destined to be loved
by anyone; on the contrary,
I have been witness to the potential
future, and it is of no surprise.
When the end does come,
and its fruition is unstoppable,
I’ll find myself dying
alone and afraid in the corner
of a rundown establishment,
because such is all I am deserving.
If by some miracle I was to be
reunited with romance once more,
suddenly and without expectation
I would proclaim to the woman
I have fallen for ‘you have saved
my life!’ and she would jump
several feet towards
the stratosphere, yet manage
to retain her usual glare
all the same. But love,
although been strong in feeling
is never really quite enough,
and I would believe
the sensation traveling
across my major senses
to be nothing more
than a facade, and upon reaching
this conclusion, whether
or not it carried the weight
of truthful logic, I will push
my lover away until they leave,
for my destiny will then prevail
and I shall be left alone
again, as I inevitably always will.

A Murderer Known as Love

If love is a battlefield,
then I have been caught
in a war torn country,
with regret as my companion.
I had a chance to find
happiness, and I had another
not too long ago,
and yet I still have hopes
that the one I truly love
will see for who I am
and say ‘I want you,
I love you, I have been
waiting tirelessly for you
my whole life; marry me,
would you, you are all
I have been searching for,
and together we shall
never be apart no more.
Let loneliness be abandoned
in these arms of mine
as you hold me to your heart
so I may hear the beat
that I inspired,
for without me you are flotsam,
and without you I am
not myself, but combined
we are everything we need
to see this journey through,
and never shall we be without
the other.’ But this is but
a dream, and dreams, they
do not come true except
in fairy tales, which this
is not, because the gloom
of this here world
lingers upon my shoulders.
Many live for love, so
I doubt it could be
surprising if one were to die
for such an emotion too.
When an unknown man
walks in with a shotgun,
I gladly throw my arms out,
outstretched at my side
as though I am to be crucified,
and I cry for him to slay me,
but no, he shoots himself
instead. It seems that love
has claimed yet another victim,
and it be ironic that an emotion
of such happiness is responsible
for so much death.
There is barely enough left
to describe the stranger
that lies upon the ground;
one second he was alive,
the next he was no longer,
and has become yet
another faceless man in a crowd
of aching hearts, and no matter
how hard I screamed, never
would he have pulled
the trigger with the barrells
aimed down at me.
I want death so badly,
but I do not want to commit
the act myself no more,
for I am terrified my heart
will cramp up and my body
will stutter, and that will
be the start of yet another
colossal failure. The only
way to guarantee success
is at the hand of another;
but what hand would happily
do what I feel must be done?
But maybe I am scared
of death, and have mistaken
cowardice for absolution,
and if this be the case
I needn’t live with such ignorance,
so please, someone smarter
than I notify me,
so I may die with my intellect
intact before I reach my end.

On the day that I do die

A piece of poetry about a life unfinished, a death that came too soon, and a love that was not accomplished

On the day that I do die, there is something that I would have planned to say
when I arrive in front of Saint Peter sometime on the following day.
He would probe me with many varieties of questions about my life thus far; questions I would have to answer,
as to ascertain that I was not a danger to Heaven, and so would not spread through paradise like a cancer.
I do not know if I would provide to the man the answers that he did seek,
but the words I would say would come from my heart when I eventually did speak;
I lost one woman because I loved and cherished and cared for her too much,
and the last thing I ever felt was when our lips did passionately touch.
I lost the second woman I adored because I did not love her enough,
and on the day we left each other, my heart felt so barren, broken and rough.
The third and final woman that I loved could not allow a relationship to be,
and the day I died I was in love with a woman who could never truly love me.
I do not know if she felt anything for me; joy, anger, sadness, remorse, the day that I did die,
all that is for certain, is that until that day, I never realised a young woman could make you cry.
An ocean of endless tears constantly fell across my face as I frequently wept,
whilst at the same time, the one woman of my dreams, she happily partied, drank and slept.
I do not know if she did hate me, or if I happened to cause her absolute disgust,
but always I did believe in my heart, who said she was the one, so my heart I did trust.
I read once that we choose who to love, for love is but a chemical, and we give such a powerfully romantic emotion meaning by choice,
but in this circumstance it was not my decision to love her; I simply fell for her beauty, her intellect, her professionalism, her voice.
From the moment I first laid eyes on her, she was undeniably and constantly in my thoughts,
for if there was such a thing as the web of love, in hers, like a fly, I had been officially caught.
However, I do not know if she was capable of romance, or if she was focused solely on her career,
and even though I am now officially dead and gone from the world, this is the one thing I still frequently fear,
for even though I can no longer be hers, I still wish for her to experience and feel true love,
and from now until she eventually finds ‘the one’ I will always look down on her from up above.
She believes that upon meeting the man of her dreams, the both of them shall fall in love immediately,
and I do suppose that I am, to this day grievously disappointed, that such a man could not be me.
Maybe when I was alive, I was simply not destined to be the man to give to her a life of romance,
but now that I do think about it, never in life did she provide to me one single, miserable chance.
When the sun did set, she would go with her friends to bars and clubs in an attempt to ‘reel in’ Mr. Right,
whilst I was willing to give her absolutely everything she ever wanted, every day and night,
and if I could not provide all that she had wanted, then I would have done my very best
to give to her a life that at night would allow her to sleep soundly and happily rest.
However, on no occasion did I see a line of men queuing up in the hope of being forever hers,
for only I had shown such interest, so why could she not be with me – why could she not be with this young sir?
Perhaps if she had been able to love me, in fact, I am certain of it, my heart would not have committed suicide and I would not be dead,
but, even if this be the truth, I will only ever love this one ravishing, gorgeous young woman, I will never love anyone else instead.

T’is says a Scorpio

SYNOPSIS: After reading some of the information spread across the twitter verse in regards to the interpretative astrological information for Scorpio’s the likes of myself and many millions of others, I thought it a good idea to take some of that information and some of my own and create a better image of the Scorpio people. I mean, frequently those who are born under such a sign in the stars are seen as individuals who are mean and potentially harmful. However, the information I have been able to recently gander, and my own personal beliefs defy this stereotypical notion and I feel they need to be subjected aloud.


I have this particular star sign
and some days I wish it wasn’t mine
and sometimes I feel it’s the one thing keeping me from you.
Some think Scorpio’s are monsters, I know you think this too,
but even though I’m meant to be more monster than man,
that don’t mean I won’t love you, in fact I know I can,
and I will. All I need is an opportunity,
to be granted the pleasure of having you love me
and to feel my body wrapped in those warm arms of yours.
Maybe this ain’t right, perhaps astrology has laws
about what can and cannot come to pass
but just because I ain’t part of your class
don’t ever mean for a second that we don’t belong
together, cuz my feelings for you are just so strong,
and never have I felt this way before.
I may have loved once, but I love you more,
and nothing is going to stop me from holding you
for the rest of time. It’s one thing I wanna do,
it’s one thing I long to accomplish
because you’re the only girl I wish
to be mine. Sometimes I lust for this to be real,
to ensure you know exactly how I feel
because then and only then will you react.
I will love you forever and that’s a fact.
I may have armour coating my entire body
but if we don’t get together you will be sorry
for I have a heart of gold beneath this armoured cuirass,
young lady, tell me, are you not at all one bit curious
to discover how much of this heart is yours?
I can tell you now, my heart, it has no flaw,
I mean, it has after all chosen you to be my one and only
and it can’t be so bad, if like me, it dreams of such a fantasy,
for that is what you are, forever and always,
until I eventually reach my end of days.
Furthermore, I may also have a massive sting in my tail,
but that don’t mean I will ever hurt you, my precious female,
nor will I ever maliciously sting you with my poison gland,
for you have already stung mine, and now my heart can’t take a stand.
You ma’am ain’t even a scorpion,
and yet your beauty is your poison,
and let me tell you now, you are absolutely beautiful
in everything you do, yes, you are just so wonderful,
and I cannot release you from my mind.
Young lady, you are all I long to find
to make me alive and whole for once in my life,
so don’t be scared when I ask you to be my wife.
I have these pinchers as to pinch
you, so you needn’t ever flinch
when I grab a hold of your body
and sing to you a sweet melody
about the way I feel inside
about you. Cuz you give me pride
when I feel so low and useless,
and when I’m feeling pretentious,
you’re the first person to tell me
to start acting more naturally
else I will get way ahead of myself.
When hurt you’re the first to ask ‘bout my health,
you’re the first to help me when I bleed,
and care for me in my time of need,
and when I don’t feel like I should,
you are the one person who would
make me feel so much better
than I honestly ever
could. You are vital to my survival,
so don’t ever believe you’re trivial
cuz you’re the best part of this life of mine.
You are truly dazzling and divine,
you are in my heart, my mind and my soul,
you are what makes this flesh and blood man whole.
I will always love you,
nothing could be more true,
and never shall you be denied a single drop of love
I have inside of me, I swear on the Heavens above.

to the Woman of Unimaginable Beauty

SYNPOPSIS: A piece about the incredibly powerful emotions a man feels for no woman in particular, and the confession that is to be supplied to this fortunate, or rather unfortunate as the case may be, woman.

There is a thin blue mist slowly drifting over this incorruptibly fair city,
which is settling in after the departure of the rainbow which was so pretty.
There is a faint pool of dried blood located down on the east highway,
relinquished from the body of the young lover who died yesterday;
yet another casualty of love that is constantly under restoration,
whose parents are forced to endure a powerful, emotional explanation.
This young man never told the woman that he loved how he felt in his heart
and instead of bringing two people together it has torn them apart.
I do not ever in this life of mine want this unfortunate event to happen to me,
which is why I write this poem for you; to the woman of unimaginable beauty.

I must warn you however that I am a weary and untalented poet,
who will never be as great as Shakespeare and his irresistible love sonnets.
Nevertheless, if I could find the words to describe the beauty of your face,
what a talented romantic I would be within the so called ‘human race.’
Whenever I lay eyes on you a chill rushes through me that penetrates right down to the bone,
I have decided that from this moment on I do not wish to spend this life of mine alone.
For deep within this body of mine I feel such incredibly strong feelings for you inside.
I write this poem to avoid confessing to you my strong feelings, a task I have not tried.
My dreams may seem ludicrous and these words I use may seem completely deranged,
I only hope that in the very near future my luck will begin to change.

My life first began the moment you said my name and I heard your amazing voice,
for me; an in-valid, to experience this, you made a sacrificial choice.
I wish that one brief moment we shared together I could eventually rewind
and admit to you my true feelings that are trapped within the confines of my mind.
Nevertheless, this could never take place, for I could never take your rejection,
wishing to instead be granted all of your love, grace, support and real affection.
I dream about you every night however, and I know I will do so again
because you are without a shadow of a doubt, my one and only piece of Heaven.
But wishes, they are all of them like dreams and they do not always occur
and in ten years time your memory of me will be no more than a blur.

They say the heart is the strongest muscle in all the body, but for me this cannot be true,
for if it were so I am certain I would have the heart to share all of my feelings with you.
You may ask why I’m infatuated with you; it is because you are different from the rest,
the same way, for lack of a better metaphor, denim dreams are different to a denim vest.
I may of course seem incredibly foolish, or perhaps even unfathomably stupid;
my excuse? I have been shot, by that mischievous little angel known as Cupid.
I would like to add, you are beautiful. No matter whether you’re covered in make-up or in a mess,
your hair, arms, legs and breasts, along with your vagina and clitoris; all of it, I wish to caress.
Of course, if you permit me, allow me to add I believe I love you very much.
Remember, you are never alone, your beautifully warm body I wish to touch.

I no longer in this life time want to keep my heart trapped within an internal cage.
In all honesty, I want to make sweet love to you, and have your body as my stage.
I wish to meet both of your parents, and confess to your father and mother,
that my dream is to always and forever be your one and only lover.
I wish to spend my life with you, not with all of the other billions of women.
I rehearse this line in my mind now as to repeat it in the future again.
I’ll continue to pour out my heart and soul and state ‘wherever you are, that’s where I’ll go.
Where that is exactly, whether it be now or in the distant future I do not know,
but wherever this specific location in time is, that’s where I’ll be,
for you will always continue to on every level ravish me.’

If I must be the author of my own destiny, I wish to write it with you,
for no woman could take your place and no one else in the world could ever make do.
In-between the two of us I feel a remarkably romantic connection,
that is fueled, controlled and inspired by my own immeasurably strong passion.
I wish however that I had the nerve to verbally convey these emotions when I speak,
which is why it pains me to realise that when around you my spirit becomes so weak.
Around you my tongue becomes so tied and twisted and my heart begins to flutter,
and all the words I wish to say to you fail to appear as I choke and stutter.
But in my heart I know I need to get over this for without you I am eternally blue
and all I wish to say is; ‘take those lips and place them on my own as I wrap my arms around you.’

There is no other life form in this universe I could ever appreciate more,
everything that makes you who you are today is without a doubt worth fighting for.
This would explain why I always dream of you being close to me; being just so near
on a day when the scorching sun is out and the skies are just so crystal clear.
On this day I would ask; ‘do you want and need me the way I want and need you; lover of whom I lust,’
and you would politely reply to me ‘young man, you have a huge heart, but honestly, what’s the rush?’
If I were to continue to speak and to persist with my words, I believe you would say, ‘boy, you talk a little too much.
I can understand your love and affection for me, but it’s obvious, you’ve been corrupted by an insatiable crush.’
But even such words could not hinder these feelings, for I truly love you without a doubt.
Unfortunately, I always will, for you are the one woman I cannot live without.

I no longer want to be a stranger, no; I want to eternally be yours.
If you were indeed a football team you would constantly receive a perfect score.
You have a blessed halo hovering above your head and a devil upon your shoulder.
If I did not enjoy such ravishing qualities I would not long to be your true lover.
This is not all that I want however, wishing to be with you through all the days of your life,
to have and to hold you for all eternity as the mother of my children and my wife.
With this said, may I continue to add, how can I live without you near?
Moreover, how can I truly live when that voice of yours I cannot hear?
Furthermore, at the conclusion of this verse, I wish for you to see me for who I am;
I may be a romantically challenged individual, but I am a loving man.

At the end of this poem I would like to conclude on a far more romantic note,
one which is far more ravishingly extraordinary than what I previously wrote.
With that said, I would like to state, you look more divine than divine, and more sexy than sumptuous,
I can say without a flickering shadow of a doubt that you are incredibly delicious.
Your eyes, they are like two diamonds, shining on a cool, mid summer’s night
filling up my hunger for romance constantly with endless delights.
Your lips moreover are the window to your soul; a place of never ending bliss,
which are opened so tentatively with the touch of my succulent, crimson kiss.
At long last however I can only hope you see such feelings as truthful rather than wrong,
for it is deep within the confines of your gracious heart that I eternally belong.

Lost in Tranquility

SYNOPSIS: A young man tosses a message in a bottle out to sea which asks the first woman who receives it to be his future wife, in the hopes of finding his certain someone.

 The sun’s reflection burned brightly across the ocean as the waves rippled across the crisp, crystal blue surface. Christopher stood at the tip of the beach where the ocean reached the sand, the water gently nibbling at his feet. He rubbed his hand through his thick, black hair which was stuck to his scalp from all the perspiration that was dripping across his face. His eyes were a dark brown colour, the rays of the sun being reflected in his shining pupils as he crouched down before the sea, a bottle clasped in his hand.
Lindsay slowly came running along the beach, pausing the moment she laid eyes upon him. Her Asiatic face had a yellow tinge to it, her black hair flying out behind her. She was not very tall, her favorite orange Hawaiian shirt hanging from her body as her denim skirt billowed ever so gently in the ocean breeze. ‘Come on Chris!’ she cried. ‘Let’s go back to the party!’
‘You know’ began Christopher in a dry voice. ‘I thought me and Charlotte had a chance, but I was wrong!’
‘Come on Chris’ repeated Lindsay. ‘You’re drunk.’
‘Surprisingly not’ announced Christopher. ‘My head has never been so clear, nor so open. You know what I have here?’ he asked, holding up the bottle.
‘I’m gathering that was filled with alcohol a few seconds before I arrived’ commented Lindsay.
‘No’ smiled Christopher. ‘No, it wasn’t. I have inserted a letter into this bottle, asking the first woman who reads what I have written to be my wife. No pick up lines, no rejections, just a fated exercise.’
‘I think you’d better step away from the shoreline before you hurt yourself’ stated Lindsay as Christopher hurled the bottle out into the ocean which splashed into the crystal depths and began to slowly bob away. Lindsay looked at Christopher in horror as though he had done something terrible as he began to walk past her. ‘It is my life’ he said. ‘And I know in my heart this is the right thing to do.’


‘Why do you still live here?’ asked Jackie with a smile, her wrinkles becoming more visible as the flabby skin on her face was pulled back. She made her way up from the long, wooden table, her great blue dress moving around at her feet as Christopher sniggered to himself. ‘You know you’re the only woman in my life for me grandma.’ She shook her head before entering the kitchen, allowing Christopher the time to sit back and admire the room around him.
The walls and drapes were each a magnificent red in colour, small tables located beside the walls with matching vases placed atop of them. The floor was made from pine wood, the sounds of the ocean being heard beneath it.
Across on the other side of the room was where Asiatic doors opened out onto a pair of twin piers symmetrically placed beside one another which made their way out into the deep, cool water. The breeze that had been carried in on the tide ruffled Christopher’s hair as he made his way to his feet, slowly wandering out onto one of the piers and crouching down to admire the view like he did every morning at ten a.m.
He brushed his hand across the surface of the ocean water, feeling the cold liquid rushing across his hand. The sound of Jackie crying out his name brought him back inside the house as she held the phone out for him. ‘Somebody wants to talk to you’ she smiled warmly.
‘Did this someone give a name?’ questioned Christopher.
‘No’ replied Jackie. ‘She didn’t.’
Christopher took the phone, placing the receiver to his ear. ‘Christopher speaking’ he said, hearing a feminine voice coming from the other end. ‘Yes, I received your letter.’
Christopher screwed up his face, attempting to remember what letter he had recently sent. ‘Sorry’ he blurted out.
‘The message in the bottle’ continued the voice.
Christopher smiled, beginning to snigger to himself. ‘Wow that was so long ago now. I’m surprised it ever made it to anyone. I had completely forgotten about it. I don’t exactly think I was in my right mind when I sent it anyway.’
‘Well’ began the woman, ‘are you still hoping to meet the girl of your dreams, or has that place already been filled?’ The voice appeared to be quite anxious as Christopher shook his head. ‘No, I still am yet to find someone.’
‘That’s great’ cheered the woman. ‘Well, not that you’re out of love, but that I didn’t receive this message for nothing. I have permission to fly over there and can be with you in a couple of days.’
‘Wow’ smiled Christopher. ‘I had never planned for anything like this. Where do you live anyway?’
‘Austin’ replied the woman. ‘Texas.’
‘I could never have imagined my letter could have ever gone that far’ stated Christopher, still bewildered by such an achievement.
‘When we’re about to leave we’ll call ahead to let you know’ stated the woman.
‘We?’ questioned Christopher.
‘Yeah’ replied the woman. ‘My father’s coming too. He goes wherever I go.’
Christopher nodded, about to hang up before asking ‘what is your name?’
‘Summer’ said the woman, the line going dead as Christopher hung up the phone, smiling. ‘Summer’ he said to himself.


The crowds of the busy airport terminal flooded past Christopher as he waited close to the front doors of the facility, the late afternoon sun burning brightly in the sky above. He shuffled his feet, feeling nervous with this arranged meeting as those on the plane from Texas began to make their way out, hugging friends and family who they had missed. He held a piece of cardboard in his hands with the name ‘Summer’ written across it in the hopes of gaining the attention of the woman he was to be introduced to. He noticed a young woman and a man point in his direction, beginning to make their way through the crowd and into plain sight, Christopher feeling a little shocked by who approached him.
There was no doubt that the young woman was beautiful. She had a long and slender body, wearing tight blue jeans and a black leather jacket. Her hair was a light brown colour which flew out behind her back, what parts of her face being visible having not a single physical imperfection. The parts of her face which were not visible however were hidden under bandages which were wrapped around her head. Her green eyes shone under the white of these bandages and her lips appeared moist and warm.
Her father stood behind her, a man who was around the same height as his daughter, but nearly twice as wide, a rather large pot belly sticking out from under his shirt. His jeans looked to be on the verge of splitting, whilst his face was covered with a shaggy white beard, his eyes appearing to be quite judgmental.
‘Christopher’ smiled the woman as she took Christopher’s hand. ‘Summer’ he replied.
‘I hope you’re not offended by the way I look right now’ expressed Summer.
‘Oh, no’ said Christopher. ‘I invited you remember. I wouldn’t have done such a thing if I was so full of worry and concern.’ He swallowed before continuing. ‘My car is outside if you’re ready to go’ he said as Summer nodded, Christopher beginning to lead the way out from the terminal.

Christopher stopped his vehicle outside of his grandmother’s house, before escorting both of his guests up the ramp of concrete tiles which led to the front door. The trip back to his place had been filled with plentiful discussion as both Christopher and Summer alike leant about the country the each of them resided within. Summer’s father however reserved the right to take the trip in total silence, every so often giving his daughter a look as though expressing to her mentally not to tell everything to this complete stranger of a man. Christopher had assumed the moment they met that because he had incidentally made contact through the use of an alcoholic bottle, such had not made the best impression on the man who obviously feared the day when the man driving the car might eventually become his son in law.
The tiles on the ground leading up to the house before them were a brilliant red which went well with the overall exterior of the wooden house. The foliage outside of the residence was a brilliant green in colour, with numerous tall trees sprouting forth out from the garden nearest the front window.
Upon reaching the door it instantaneously opened, Lindsay standing before Christopher as the two friends embraced one another. Summer looked at the two of them as though she were trying to decipher what was going on between them as Christopher asked ‘what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you for a couple days and suddenly you arrive, just like that?’
‘Jackie called’ stated Lindsay as they broke apart, ‘and I wanted to have a look at the new young lady who was going to be entering your life.’
Lindsay and Summer introduced each other as the four of them made their way into the interior of the house, Summer slowly taking off her jacket with the help of her father and placing it onto the rack closest to the door. Christopher noticed two bandages attached to Summer’s left arm, Lindsay noticing them too as she cleared her throat before continuing.
‘How exactly did you do so much damage to yourself?’ she asked with a light hearted smile.
‘I’m a professional dancer’ stated Summer. ‘Ballet to be exact’ she said quickly as though ensuring that nobody interpreted her dancing profession to be in the realm of exotic. ‘During my last rehearsal which was, oh, about five weeks ago now, I slipped on the floor trying to perform a new move and cracked my head on the ballet room floor.’
She nodded as Lindsay emphasised a look of pain whilst Jackie made her way out from the kitchen with a platter of tea in her hands. ‘Well hello. I’m so glad to meet my grandson’s new acquaintances’ she smiled. ‘If you’d just follow me to the kitchen I can make us some snacks. I’m sure the two of you are very hungry after your flight.’
 Jackie began to make her way back into the kitchen as Lindsay followed her, Summer looking at Christopher for a few seconds whilst his back was turned as her father made his way close to her ear. ‘I’m happy that you’ve found someone’ he whispered. ‘I only hope he’s the man you need him to be’ he said, before following Lindsay into the kitchen.
Summer nodded before walking towards Christopher. ‘It’s one hell of a view’ she said.
‘You should see it at both dawn and dusk’ exclaimed Christopher. ‘Now that is a view!’
He looked into Summer’s eyes for a second as they began to draw closer together, before their lips gently touched, their eyes closing before they slowly pulled away, smiling at one another.
‘The doctor told me that as soon as I arrive in Australia the bandages could finally be removed and no further ones would be necessary.’ stated Summer. She moved her hands to the back of her head and began to unravel the bandages that were tied around her facial features, dropping them to the floor as Christopher marveled at the face which had been hidden beneath them.
‘Good God you’re beautiful’ he smiled, taking a deep breath before kissing her again, Christopher and Summer embracing one another as they did so.
‘I’m glad you find me so appealing’ smiled Summer. ‘I would have hated to have made this trip for nothing. You did say that you wished to marry whoever read the note you placed inside of the bottle. But I can tell you now, I am not going to spend the rest of my life with a man I have never slept with.’
Christopher stared at her in awe. ‘What about your father?’ he asked.
‘He only wants me to be happy’ stated Summer.
‘I think they would notice if we didn’t show up to eat the snacks Jackie has prepared’ grinned Christopher.
‘We do have all night’ commented Summer. ‘And when that time comes, I want you to make love to me, the same way you would to a woman you have extremely strong emotions for.’
Christopher nodded, taking Summer’s hand in his before the two of them made their way in the direction of the kitchen.