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Vancouver Sunrise

This here poem shall echo on throughout the course of time
until words are no longer words and they no longer rhyme.
This here poem shall echo on through the ages,
across words, lines, stanzas, paragraphs and pages.
This here poem is more romantic than previous love stories
and shall stretch across several lands, worlds, countries and territories.
This here poem is not about a conclusion, but a beginning
of a romance that is in itself entirely never ending.

Who would have thunk that I would one day be driving through the streets of Canada,
when five months prior I was in my bed, sleeping soundly in Australia.
Who would believe I would be driving down a Canadian highway
with the cold as my companion under the light of a brand new day
as my vehicle flies by an endless ocean of trees on either side,
which is the start of great forestry where many breeds of animals hide.
Behind me in my rear view mirror I see the incredible Vancouver sunrise
whilst ahead of me across the border is where the American continent lies
and just as I reach the border I realise I need to quickly turn around;
the Canadian border just saved my life for true love I have already found.
I put my foot to the pedal and hurry back the way I came
and under my breath I frequently repeat my young lover’s name
whilst the golden sun glows across my skin and the cold wind caresses me too
and as soon as I reach her door I will announce ‘Alexia, I love you.’

Five months prior, the last thought that could ever come to mind was the thought of travelling
across the vast oceans of this world to experience a cool Vancouver morning.
Allow this writer to paint a picture of how this came to be
and perhaps after reading several stanzas you will agree
that this is a luscious love poem unlike any other that has come before
and the feelings generated are all passion without a single flaw.

It’s 4a.m. Wednesday morning, I wake all alone.
Why did I wake you might ask; there’s someone on the phone.
Alexia’s calling from a payphone in the middle-class district of Coal Harbour
and in the background I can hear the shriek of the wind and the cry of the cold weather.
‘Just last night I was staring passionately at your picture on the bedroom wall,
it seems, almost like destiny that the next morning you suddenly choose to call.’
Her mobile is dead and she has lost some of her luggage
but her strength hasn’t waned and she still has her courage,
other than that, she is totally unaffected and completely fine,
before beginning to articulate why she happens to be on the line.
Initially I thought that maybe she wished to redefine our relationship,
after all, truth of the matter was, I had always wanted more than a friendship.
Additionally, I wonder if she is calling to talk about a future,
where, instead of being a loyal friend of mine she is my infatuated lover
and I am also hers; a wish I’d always wanted as my own,
but seldom had these lustrous dreams I have ever truly grown.
Instead, you want to sell me a trip to Canada, to experience what life’s like there
and I ecstatically reply ‘Alexia, I will gladly go with you anywhere.’

You could sell me almost anything; all I dream of is your hand.
To the man in the desert, you could sell more irritating sand,
to the captain of the sinking ship in the Pacific you could see more sea,
but all I want, in all the world, is for you to sell your loving heart to me.
For you are the Alexia of life and you are the unwilling owner of this man’s heart
and as I quickly pack my gear, I do so not only because I cannot stand being apart
but because I wish to reveal to you a truth you have not yet found;
a truth that has always existed, one that has always been around
and the truth is, I’m the man of your dreams masquerading as your closest friend,
however, I am afraid this man can no longer adequately pretend.
I must tear down the great walls of this façade and reveal to you the way I feel
and all I can ever do is hope that the love I dream you have for me is real,
for I am obliged to show you the strong emotions inside my heart and soul
because without you, my dear, I am nothing more than a fraction of a whole.
Upon reuniting in Canada, I will happily kiss you where you stand
and perhaps, if I be lucky, everything will turn out the way I always planned.

When I eventually did arrive in this alien country Alexia did not hesitate
and together we quickly began our adventurous travels, but first, we had to masticate
for our hunger was fast becoming so intense it was unbelievably sublime
and if we wanted to go on a journey or two we needed to be in our prime.
I remember travelling to Prince Edward Island and dining in Charlottetown
and at the Saint John Farmer’s Market in Fredericton we greatly weighed ourselves down
with an unimaginable wealth of food and other necessities
for when we would being travelling across the many territories.
We had a stopover in Toronto and stayed the night at the Hotel Alexandra,
before continuing onwards the next day to explore other portions of Canada.
We traversed through the amazing Miles Canyon in the area known as Whitehorse
and under the bright moonlight we dined upon a deliciously homemade main course,
before travelling to view a festival in Edmonton and the gorgeous Lake Louise in Alberta
and later taking the Tsawwassen-Swartz Bay Ferry to admire the many castles in Victoria.
In Halifax I learnt that the local old town clock had been keeping time since 1803
and I wondered to myself, ‘would it take as long for Alexia to ever notice me?’

As the few months quickly drift by, my romantic goals remain incomplete
and my heart becomes overburdened with the intense feeling of defeat.
I never believed Alexia had the ability to read my mind,
however, I felt that the truth of it all she would inevitably find
at her own volition. I have been sending more signals than a satellite
and I cannot fathom why she has not seen what I am now choosing to write.
I have been in love with her since the very moment I heard her voice
and I have become a slave to love, I was never granted a choice.
But a man can only accept loss so many times before he officially gives in
and I for one cannot take anymore pain for I have already been long sufferin’
the incredible emotions that run rampant throughout my head
and I guess I am going to leave with a broken heart instead,
for although I came to this great country with the one intention of acquiring Alexia,
it seems unfortunate that I will be leaving in much the same way that I arrived in Canada.
The highway I drive across is nearly vacant as I hurry by in my vehicle,
my palpitating heart distraught that I am still yet to claim my one forbidden angel.
Behind me in my rear view mirror I see the incredible Vancouver sunrise
whilst ahead of me across the border is where the American continent lies
and just as I reach the border I realise I need to quickly turn around;
the Canadian border just saved my life for true love I have already found.
I put my foot to the pedal and hurry back the way I came
and under my breath I frequently repeat my young lover’s name
whilst the golden sun glows across my skin and the cold wind caresses me too
and as soon as I reach her door I will announce ‘Alexia, I love you.’

The Place I Wish I Was Right Now

‘We should do it’ she cried,
‘it sounds like fun’, the portal
but an inch from closing.
‘I am uncertain’ stated I,
‘I am weighed down with doubt;
what if we cannot get back?’
‘Nonsense’ said she, ‘you shouldn’t
talk like that, boys should
be more gung ho.’ ‘Okay Alex’
I said, ‘let’s do this’ and the
two of us walked in.

The portal closed upon
arrival; it was instant and
quick, our world now long
gone. Instead of a house,
we stood now in a yard
of graves, the name on one
tombstone looking quite
familiar. ‘Derek’ it was written,
and the last name was ‘Childs’,
yet the child-like ambience
was now all but gone.

‘Where do you think mine is?’
asked Alex, before seeing my
face and she said ‘I’m sure it
means nothing’ and yet, I was
not thinking about me. The
tombstone meant death and
yet it was not mine, but at
the same time, it could very
well have being. I thought of
what could have happened;
how this could have come
to pass, and I was filled
with life, not dread.

What did this Derek do? Was
he at all like me? Did anyone
love him? Did his death
mean anything; sacrifice or
martyr, or was it purely
meaningless? Was it his fate
or was it chosen for him? Did
he accomplish his endeavours
or leave behind a life
unfinished? I noticed not any
tombstones that bore resemblance
to his and pondered who, if
anyone had been left behind.

A wife perhaps; several
adoring children, or were there
no family to speak of; was
he a loner like me? If so,
his death was warranted
for even I on occasion had
longed for the blood to bleed
forth from my body. If not,
and there were indeed loved
ones to speak of, then
even I would be content
with a death like that.

Stereotypically, perhaps not
a happy conclusion, but
not all endings are. If he
was loved and his life was
fulfilled, then maybe there
was still hope for me. ‘This
is why we came here’ I said,
‘now I know what I must
do; I must live life now, and
leave behind a cadaver
worthy of recognition.’

My words may seem
heartless but are with
absolute certainty not untrue,
as the portal we arrived
through appeared once more.
With one last look at my
entombed reflection, Alex
and I left behind the yard
and returned to the one we
unfortunately lived in. Death
be not joyous, but it’s where
we all go, and at least my
story now had a beginning.

Elisha

SYNOPSIS: A confession of love for a beautiful young woman.

 

There’s no one else like you
who I’ve ever met
who is so beautiful.
Promise I’ll always love you,
the most perfect human being
who is so wonderful.

Elisha, you’re such a wonderful girl
I believe I know
who’s in my very soul.
All the money in the world
cannot add up to
the love I have for you.

Sent you love letters
beauty queen of the year,
who’s the bride of Heaven.
Want to make things better,
to dry away your tears
as you’re Earth and Heaven.

See you once in a while
where you’re higher again,
way past Heaven above.
With your beautiful smile,
wishing to be your friend,
and you’re one true love.

The Rabbit Ears

SYNOPSIS: Looks over a day in the life of two friends and the separate lives they live, and how everything could have turned out differently if but not for one single event.

This piece contains very explicit coarse language, sexual references and some disturbing themes.

 

JARED:

I opened my eyes, the sun bathing my room in a vast ocean of light. Music posters lined the walls and used clothes were scattered randomly across the floor. I jerked the sheets from under me, my body crying out for rest. A sudden sexualised feeling came over me as I pulled down my pants. Grabbing hold of my growing penis I quickly began to masturbate, the feeling being extraordinarily intense as I groaned in pleasure.
To aid in the erection I thought of Ophelia, her body being both luscious and fantastical. Her permed blonde hair billowed across her face, her brilliant turquoise eyes staring back at me; her wet lips looking as moist as ever. Her tight jeans reflected her magnificent legs and fantastically formed arse; her short top revealing the snake tattoo imbedded permanently around her belly button.
I breathed a sigh of relief, semen rushing out from the tip of my penis, successfully accomplishing my erotic morning entertainment. Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself out of bed, dressing myself in appropriate casual wear for my university classes. Hurrying down the stairs to the kitchen, I gulped down my breakfast, bidding farewell my parents before briskly walking down to the train station.
Upon arriving, I wiped the sweat from my face as I stood with the other commuters, impatiently awaiting the train which was already three minutes late. My mind spontaneously turned to Camellia and as I thought of her I believed I saw her on the other side of the tracks as the train finally arrived. I clearly remembered what she had told me on her deathbed at the hospital that fateful night; two tubes connected to her nose, her bloodied appearance being far too overwhelming to believe. ‘I don’t care what it is you believe’ Camellia had said. ‘Just believe in her’ she managed, gesturing at Ophelia, before collapsing back into the bed.
It was these words that prevented me from being with Ophelia. She was beautiful, yes, but her beauty was simply to be admired, not taken advantage of. Besides, she didn’t see anything in me.
Escaping my delusional fantasy I boarded the train, the doors closing behind me.

I sat at the back of the psychology class; the lecturer arriving as I eagerly awaited for Ophelia. Upon arrival she looked exactly as I had imagined her in my wet dream as she sat beside me. Under the light, the piercings in her face were clearly visible, shining beautifully under the fluorescence.
‘Did I miss much?’ asked Ophelia, sounding a little out of breath.
‘No, it’s all bullshit anyway’, I grunted with a smirk which Ophelia returned.
‘Donald’s getting worse’ she finally said, looking a little afraid. ‘He hates me, I know it.’
‘Your father doesn’t hate you’ I shot back reassuringly. ‘Camellia’s death has been difficult for both of you. He is trying to cope with it, just as you are. All of these tattoos and piercings are your way of attempting to find yourself after such an ordeal.’
Ophelia sniffed as she took out her purse, opening it up to reveal an image of her and Camellia, the two of them looking exactly alike. With the exception that Camellia had a pink fluffy pair of rabbit ears atop her head. The image beside this was from their childhood. A skinny man sat in the centre, his broad smile being the most prominent feature. Seated on his lap were both his children, Ophelia wearing the rabbit ears in this photo.
‘It’s amazing how much things can change’ said Ophelia sadly as the lecturer interrupted our thoughts.
‘Happiness is one of the most powerful emotions of all. Go ahead, see how it feels by complimenting the person sitting beside you’ he said, as I rolled my eyes.
Ophelia turned to face me, looking deadly serious. ‘You’re a nice person’ I said awkwardly as Ophelia sniggered. I awaited my compliment, but before she had given it the lecturer began talking again, Ophelia becoming quite distant after that.

Sitting atop my bed in the late afternoon sun, my mind turned to Ophelia, believing she may have needed a little tenderness. Picking up the phone from my desk, I dialed the digits for her home phone, her mobile having being confiscated by her father after the tragic incident which claimed the life of his daughter. The phone rang continuously as I thought of hanging up, just as Donald’s pre-recorded voice came over the receiver.
‘Those fucking rabbit ears!’ he roared. ‘I can’t fucking stand them! They’re everywhere! I can’t remove them from my mind! Oh, but I will by fucken destroying the little fuckers!’ he cried out deviously, the line instantly going dead. Frozen in fear, I leapt from the bed and hurried out the door, racing towards Ophelia’s, fearing for her life as I traversed the darkening streets, sad and alone.

Upon arrival I sensed something was amiss. The entire house was pitch black, not a single trace of life originating from its eerie interior. I shuddered to myself as I navigated the disturbingly unkempt lawn, knocking on the wooden door which instantly swung open. I slowly walked on through, making my way into the lounge room tripping over something on the floor. As this occurred I threw out my hands to stop myself from falling, the carpet feeling drenched. I reached for the light and flicked it on, reeling at what I saw.
Donald lay on the floor, a revolver in his left hand. His entire body was covered in blood, the walls and floors the same. His head no longer looked like it once had, appearing to have being blown off by the gun blast as I found myself hyperventilating. What had Donald done? I ran for Ophelia’s room, which was completely vacant, hurrying back before pausing at the entrance of the bathroom, noticing some form of liquid on the floor. Turning on the light I felt my entire body sag, finding the floor covered in blood, hurrying for the bath where a body was located. I heard a whimpering from inside me as I threw my hands around Ophelia, her body having bled out from having each of her piercings and tattoos removed with a number of sharp instruments covering the floor. What had her father done I wondered, the word ‘no!’ escaping my lips, as I sobbed into her hair, feeling immense guilt for never revealing to her how I felt.

 

OPHELIA:

I awoke to Donald screaming. I quickly dressed and applied make-up, not wishing to further aggravate him as he appeared at my door.
‘What? Still not dressed you lazy cunt?’ he cried, holding a bottle of liqueur in his hands which he quickly finished, throwing it in my direction.
I ducked, the bottle shattering as it connected with the wall, pieces of glass flying across the room as Donald continued down the hall howling insanities. I noticed the rose tattoo on my leg and the piercings in my belly as I pulled up my jeans, grabbed my bag and hurried down the hall. I stopped outside my sister’s room where a pair of rabbit ears was placed atop a pedestal, an image of both of us smiling under it; one of our better moments. Avoiding my father, I raced out the door and hurried towards the bus that would take me to university.

I briskly walked into class and made my way over to Jared. Like always, he looked incredibly handsome as I sat beside him and began to quietly make conversation, beginning to feel life returning to my body once more. Upon mentioning the intense loathing my supposed father had for me, Jared burst into his usual sensitive drivel about how the both of us were attempting to find ourselves. I guess he didn’t realise that I had; I was exactly who I was meant to be.
Of all the people in the world I wished he would be the one to notice that as the lecturer before us broke through my thoughts, instructing us to complement one another.
I smiled, turning to Jared who looked a little taken aback as he turned to face me, his beautiful brown eyes looking directly into mine.
‘You’re a nice person’ he finally said, the words cutting through me like knives as I sniggered, attempting to hide the pain.
What I would have given to hear him tell me I was beautiful. To hear him say that he loved me, so much so in fact that he wished to take me outside and physically express it through non-stop frenetic, sexualised orgasmic activity.  But no, he had completely rejected me as I became more and more distant from him with every second.

I lay on my bed that afternoon sobbing into my pillow, my black mascara running across my face. God I must have looked so pathetic, crying over some boy who I had had feelings for since the moment we had met. Donald’s sudden screaming brought me out of my stupor as I slowly made my way down the hall, finding him in the lounge room with the phone in one hand and a revolver in the other.
‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ he cried, brandishing the weapon at me as I backed away fearfully. ‘I have had it with the fucking rabbit ears and now, I remove them from my consciousness!’ Putting the gun to his head, he pulled the trigger. The effect was instantaneous. His head was completely mangled on impact, flakes of bloody facial tissue flying across the room, covering the walls as his body fell to the ground.
‘Well, it was bound to happen eventually’ I told myself, feeling a mixture of fear and contempt. Making my way to the bathroom I began to cry, tears streaming down my face, my entire body shaking. I thought of calling the police, but I knew deep down I was partly responsible for what had happened. Switching on the bathroom light I looked at my face in the mirror, before puking in the toilet bowel, wiping my face on a paper towel and staring back at my reflection. Neither Jared nor my father believed I was beautiful and if my sister were alive she too would have felt the same way. I looked at my reflection and saw a freak.
Loathed, rejected. I needed to be beautiful again.
I opened up the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a pair of tweezers, placing them on either side of my nose ring before ripping it out, blood flying across the mirror. The pain was excruciating, but I had to continue. I would not stop until I was beautiful once more, reaching my hand back into the cabinet and taking out a scalpel.

Lying in the bath, blood flowing around me, I lost consciousness, feeling contempt that I had achieved true beauty. I heard a door open, before hearing a cry of pain; noticing the shape of a person running to my side and embracing me. And as death took me, my last thoughts were of my sister.
She sat in the driver’s seat, the rain battering the windows on the dark, stormy night, the lights of passing motorists flying by.
‘Might I be able to borrow the rabbit ears?’ I asked from the passenger seat. She snorted.
‘No. They were mothers’. She would have wanted me to have them, especially since you killed her from being born last.’
I knew my sister was still affected by the booze we had over indulged on at the party, but I did not deserve such harsh treatment. ‘How can you say that to me?’ I cried.
‘Oh, fuck you!’ retorted Camellia as I felt an intense rage within me.
‘You know what Camellia, why don’t you just fucking die!’ I shouted as the truck came out of the shadows and plowed into us.

Jewel Thief

SYNOPSIS: Christos, a young man who recently lost his fiancé to an Italian athlete decides to break into her residence to retrieve the wedding ring he gave to her, with the help of a few friends.

A head’s up, this piece contains some explicit coarse language.

 

Jerry watched the glasses get topped up once more by the barkeep as the sound of roaring laughter and constant profanities filled his ears.
‘Drink up!’ smiled his friend, downing the glass in one gulp.
‘I think you’ve had enough’ stated Jerry, nodding at the barkeep to acknowledge what he’d said, who simply replied with ‘how many fingers am I holding up’, placing three fingers in front of Christos’s face.
‘Ah, twelve?’ questioned Christos as the barkeep smiled. ‘Close enough’ he said, pouring him another shot as Jerry rolled his eyes, unable to believe that a woman could have possibly done this to his friend.
‘She was my life’ said Christos emotionally, chugging the entire glass and indicating for the barkeep to pour him another, Jerry not even bothering to tell him otherwise this time.
Christos downed the glass once more. ‘I was her Orpheus and she was my Eurydice.’
‘It’s no wonder you didn’t last’ said Jerry.
‘But not to worry folks!’ shouted Christos, holding out his hands, ‘for I have a plan!’
‘Here we go’ grunted Jerry, tossing his head back.
‘I’m going to break into my ex-wife’s house and steal all of her jewelry’ smiled Christos.
‘Oh, right, that’s totally going to win her affection back’ said Jerry, clapping his hands. ‘Bravo, bravo!’
‘No, no, it’s not that at all!’ shouted Christos angrily, requesting another top up of his glass before continuing. ‘She ran off with some athletic Eyetie bastard, who runs around on a treadmill all day for a living, when she could have had all this!’ he shouted, thrusting out his hands for all to admire his body.
‘I bet it was a hard decision’ said Jerry, ‘the smell of indecent sweat in exchange for the smell of alcoholic abuse.’
 ‘I want some compensation for such unnecessary and barbaric treatment.  She left me, and I was left humiliated and disgraced’ said Christos, a tear rolling down his face. ‘And the compensation I require is the ring I gave to her in exchange for her promise.’
‘What?’ questioned Jerry. ‘You mean you wish to re-obtain the ring you won in the Kinder Surprise egg?’
‘I didn’t win it!’ shouted Christos. ‘I bought and paid for it with my own blood and sweat, and I believe I deserve it back, along with the rest of her jewelry. Which is why we’re going to break into her crib and snatch it!’
‘I’m all for the snatch part’ commented Jerry. ‘That I could really use right now, but there is no way I’m going with you to Cynthia’s place to steal her jewelry. Now, I don’t care if you paid for it, as soon as you gave it to her, it became hers.’
‘It ain’t gonna be just you and me on this gig’ smiled Christos. ‘I’m bringing Evelyn, my ex-girlfriend along, you know, the woman from way back.’
‘And why do we need her?’ asked Jerry.
‘Because, we need at least one professional on this job’ nodded Christos. ‘Besides, I’m a little terrified of her.’
‘You’re terrified of a woman?’ laughed Jerry. ‘How could you possibly be terrified of a woman? They’re all made up of sugar and other sweet, delicious things.’

‘What the fuck are you doing you dumb son of a bitch!’ roared Evelyn. Now this was the way a real woman behaved. Her mouth salivating, her hands clenched into fists, her eyes a bright red in fury as veins began to protrude from the corners of her pupils. ‘You fuck this up one more time and I’m gonna snap your fucking neck!’ she shouted, the attendant behind the register cowering in terror as he attempted to give her the right amount of change back for the twenty dollar note she had handed him for the packet of tampons she’d purchased, not to mention the several liters of fuel for her ride; a hybrid mustang.
Evelyn’s phone suddenly rang as she flicked it open, grunting ‘what?’ into the receiver before grabbing the man behind the register by the scruff of his neck and holding him over the counter. ‘Swap me out the proper change, or I’m gonna beat the shit out of you, before ripping out your eyes and skull fucking your brain!’ She watched the attendant attempt to procure the change from the register as she nodded in response to the call. ‘Yeah, I can be there’ she said, before putting her phone away and eyeing the attendant coldly.
The correct change was suddenly thrust in her direction as she caught it in mid-air preparing to leave before grunting ‘and one more thing.’ She turned around to the attendant and knocked him out with a right hook to the side of the head, leaping over the register and beginning to empty out the entire till.

Jerry shuffled in the cold, his hands in his pockets as he waited out on the side of the bridge that led towards Cynthia’s house. The ground was frozen in a dense layer of frost as his breath came out before him, his legs shaking in the cold of the night. A pair of headlights were visible on the highway up ahead as Christos’s BMW drove up beside him, the roof being disengaged as his friend smiled up at him. He was not alone however, another man who was considerably plump sitting in the backseat.
Jerry indicated for Christos to exit the car and talk to him in the privacy of the trees, his friend grudgingly following Jerry’s lead.
‘Why do we have to steal your ex-wife’s jewelry when you’re riding around in that piece of ass?’ cried Jerry.
‘I blew all the money on the car’ grunted Christos with a sideways glance as Jerry rolled his eyes.
‘And what about the jolly fat man sitting up back?’ probed Jerry. ‘I thought it was just going to be me, you, and your ex.’
‘Change of plans’ said Christos out from the corner of his mouth. ‘My aunty isn’t going to be home tonight and so asked me to take care of my cousin, Marty. He’s a little slow in the head and needs constant supervision. He has a few strange obsessions and hobbies, so don’t mind him either, and whatever you do, don’t mention we‘re going to steal anything. I have him believing we’re going to Disneyworld.’
‘Right’ nodded Jerry, making his way over to the car. ‘Hey Marty, we’re going to go steal some shit, wanna come?’
‘Awesome’ smiled Marty as Christos gave Jerry a dirty look before grunting ‘would you mind sitting in the back?’
‘Is there anything else you wouldn’t mind me doing?’ barked Jerry. How ‘bout I wipe the windows while I’m at it,’ reluctantly doing as his friend requested.
‘Can you drop something?’ asked Marty as Jerry sat beside him.
‘Oh yeah’ grunted Jerry between clenched teeth, ‘this is going to be a real pleasure cruise’ he said as Christos gave him a look before beginning to drive on towards Cynthia’s place.

Barely twenty minutes later they arrived outside of Cynthia’s. The residence was an extremely gargantuan mansion sitting on top of a large hill overlooking the surrounding plains. A metallic fence ran around the entire property as the three men admired the place. Christos stopped the car as the headlights ran over shapes before him, Evelyn beginning to walk over to them after peering in through the fence at one of the windows, entering the vacant seat up front.
‘Who the fuck is this?’ barked Evelyn, indicating at Marty as Christos said ‘don’t ask.’
‘Glad to meet you again Evelyn’ said Jerry, reaching out his hand as she swiped it away. ‘Don’t touch me!’ she cried. ‘I’m not your whore!’ She calmed down before continuing. ‘I’ve checked the place out. They left a couple of hours ago, so I don’t know how long you have.’
‘You mean you’re not coming?’ questioned Christos in a frightened squeak as Evelyn shook her head. ‘It’s your party.’
‘Jerry?’ asked Christos.
‘Why don’t you ask Marty, he looks as though he’s dying to come in there with you’ retorted his friend.
‘Drop something!’ smiled Marty.
‘And look, he’s already in the mood to vandalise shit’ grinned Jerry as Christos exited the car. ‘Fine, I’ll do it on my own you bunch of pussies’ he grunted, moving towards the gate.
‘Come back over here and say that’ yelled Evelyn. ‘Bitch!’ she muttered, watching Christos make his way over the fence and collapse on the other side before disappearing into the darkness around him.

Ten minutes later Christos had still failed to return, Jerry becoming aggravated in the back seat.
‘Drop something’ said Marty suddenly as Evelyn rolled her eyes. ‘How ‘bout I drop a turd, would you like that!’
‘That would be funny’ commented Marty.
‘Yeah, right on your friggin’ head’ grunted Evelyn as security alarms suddenly began to ring out from the household, a great crashing sound being heard as pieces of glass were showered across the grounds. Christos leapt out from an upstairs window before rolling across the lawn, making his way back over the fence and into the car with a couple of bags tucked under his arms.
‘I got the dough’ he smiled.
‘You got something’ mumbled Jerry, the car beginning to pull out from the house and onto the highway.

The next morning the BMW was parked outside of a McDonald’s drive-in, Marty being left to protect the vehicle whilst the others made their way into the fast food outlet to grab themselves a bite to eat.
A few minutes later as Jerry, Christos and Evelyn walked back into the parking lot they could instantly tell something was terribly wrong. Especially upon discovering the car missing.
‘Did we lock the doors?’ asked Jerry, looking around the parking lot as if hoping to see it parked somewhere else.
‘I don’t know’ stated Christos. ‘But I did leave the keys in the ignition.’
‘Did you happen to leave the engine running as well?’ barked Evelyn. ‘Hell, we should’ve put a sign up saying ‘please steal this car because these barmy shits couldn’t lock the fucking doors!’
‘What about Marty?’ asked Christos.
‘Screw him’ retorted Evelyn, ‘I’d be more concerned about the loot we left him with. And who’s to say he didn’t double cross us?’
‘He can’t drive!’ shouted Christos, Evelyn looking about to take a piece out of him as a police car suddenly drove up beside them, its sirens blaring as two officers sprung out from its interior.
‘Put your hands in the air where we can see them!’ they commanded as Jerry swore under his breath, Christos reluctantly doing as they asked before finding himself with the others in the back of the car.

Christos found himself in the confines of the dark interrogation room which was immediately flooded with light, an officer making her way into the room.
‘We found your car’ stated the officer, sitting down before Christos. ‘We also found your cousin in the back seat. We would have charged him with complicity in your crimes, but he’s been treated leniently because he didn’t know what he was getting himself involved in. Jerry too has been acquitted because it seems he’s quite a pillar of the community, stating he only became involved because he didn’t have the heart to say otherwise. As for Evelyn, she has a rap sheet bigger than my arm, and we just can’t be bothered going through the paperwork to charge her with something else. You however, you’re ours. I went through your file and found your educational statistics.’
‘School’s not for everyone’ stated Christos.
‘Yeah, well who wants a university degree anyway when you can receive an even better education from the Crayon Cabana. It appears you received an even more efficient education from your prior employment as well, the Majister of Meats’. She paused before continuing. ‘You know what I see before me? I see an incompetent individual who no doubt is on his way down to a place I wouldn’t even attempt to imagine. Have you anything to say for yourself?’
Christos grimaced. ‘Did you find the ring?’

Untitled Beauty

THE SYNOPSIS:
Set in the hypothetical future, this poem outlines the romance of an alien woman and her human lover as they attempt to enjoy a romance fulfilled in a universe that wishes to ultimately see them fail.
Later in the poem, an artificial alien language is generated. Below is a key if anyone is interested which translates the alien words into that of English. However, if you don’t speak English, this will be about as useful as a cup holder on a motorbike.
A/All/Is: ‘Es
Again: Ernst
Allow: Alst
Always/Constant: Nien’elieniat
Am/Are: E’tta
And/Beside/More/With: Plutus
Anyone/People: Rayrul
As/It/To/The/Yet: Ese
Back: Butus
Beautiful: Belis’imira
Can: Du
Cannot/No/Not/Nothing/Stop/: Nien’te
Cause: Effectus
Children: Rayrulli
Consequence: Terra
Could/Should/Would: Derse
Do/Or/So/To: O’
Enjoy/Good/ Great/Happy*/Yes/Very: Yess’et
Even: Cosi
Façade/Lie: Falsa
Feel*: Fueta
For: Es’e
Friend: Ger’rat
Grow: Tre
Have: Hi
I/Me/Mine/My: E’ (only caps for ‘I’)
In/Of: Iti
If: It’e
Inspiration: Halo
Just: Ka’
Know: Knowledge
Life/Live*/Reality: Perpursella
Loudly: Cres’endo
Love*: Romanca
May: Mult’i
Mother: Ray’pareta
Much: Elien
One/Only/Single: Lone’
Oppurtunity: Opal’li
Own: Posset
Partner: Ray’ro’am
Please: Pleaseus
Put: ‘U
Rather: Alta
Said/Say: Spek’ola
See: Magnesus
Softly: Silenzio
Source: Circe’
Stand*: Terret
Strong*/Strength: Muchi’popollala
Than/That/The/This: Ti
Thank you: Kah’le’halset
There: Arr’ot
Thing: Ni’rayl
Through: Crevact
Unforeseeable: Nien’magnit
Universe: Galaxus
Was: Additial
Way: Wurs
What/When/Where/Who: Wersa
Whole: Percetta
Will: Forcus
Wife:  Wilahundra
Words: Spera
Year*: Ullet
You/Your: Uset


THE POEM:
The beautiful Aayla heard a rapping at her chamber window last night; she thought it was a murderer.
Little did she realise it was in fact her love struck white knight who had come to passionately rescue her,
for if he were the sharp sword then she was the strong shield, and together they would never be apart.
The unfortunate truth is however, she was to never accept the proposal of his heart,
and so twisted and broken, battered and weary, he was to walk alone, and never have such true beauty by his side,
whilst safe in her bedroom, Aayla would crawl up under the covers and for an indefinite period she would hide.
For never was there a story quite like this one about Derek and his Aayla that was to never be,
and every night when he desperately wanted to curl up beside her, he’d wonder, ‘why cannot you love me?’
and to this, if given the chance, Aayla would reply ‘for such is not written in the stars – it’s not our destiny.
Women such as I cannot love men such as you; stories like these are not designed to end at all happily.’

Aayla was born on the lush, fertile planet of Illos, raised on the continent of Amazon, just outside city limits, by two loving parents who were Rayringii.
In a forest region, all of them lived in a village, Aayla, her parents, sister and grandmother. Neither of them were human, no, they were something else entirely,
but they were living beings all the same. Aayla’s two eyes were hazel, her lips were crimson, and she would have a stud in her nose. As for her head
there wasn’t any trace of hair, not even a strand, no, there were two large tentacles that curved their way symmetrically down her back instead.
Like all Rayringii, she would become tall and athletic, with jewelry in her naval and tight brown pants and boots on her lower body.
A small piece of fabric would run around her chest, Aayla growing up to become the definition of unfathomable beauty.
The people of the continent Pandora were green, on Durkazette they were orange, on Warlock they were red, and Aayla, like all the others of Amazon, was aqua.
But this peace, it did not last, with many villages like Aayla’s been razed to the ground. Aayla survived however, the war many theorists have described as ‘spectacular’,
to be rescued by galactic peacekeepers known only as Paladins. Becoming one with their culture and obeying their rules, she came to fight by their side. She avoided other people, who just made her nervous,
her ability to trust and to feel love being utterly diminished. Instead of a life of normality, she chose one of gross restrictions; one of justice, sacrifice, mercy and never ending loneliness.

If this were far, far away into the all unforeseeable future, the year would be twenty six thirty two;
I’d assume the role of human, Derek Childs, whilst my darling Rayringii, Aayla Strogura would be played by you.
From the moment we first met, all those years ago, I could not tear my eyes away from you, and by sheer happenstance we kept meeting again and again. Caught in the embrace
of your ravishing beauty, my eyes would never lose the static electricity magnetically attracting them to your unfathomably irresistible face.
Never in all my years, from adolescence to adulthood, have I been captivated by such uncontrollable emotions,
for if we are a blue planet, capable of containing love, I’d most certainly be the land, and you, my dear, are the ocean.
If such be the case, you’d be the tide needed to spin this archipelago around to face his eventual destination,
which is wherever a certain blue Rayringii would be in. If I’ve anything to give you, it’s a life time of affection
and I can promise you, these feelings, they will never die. I’ll be your Derek Childs forever, I’d only too gladly play the part
and I infinitely promise you, no man could ever love you the way this brave soul will once I grant you all the love in my heart.

I know you gave your heart to someone once after vowing to never do so. You have not loved anyone, not in quite a long while
since the death of your beloved, and you promised yourself you’d never love again. When his name is mentioned, you cautiously fake a smile
as you reminisce frequently over the loss of a lost lover you feel you could not ever in another million more lifetimes live without.
I can see that you’ve been crying sweet Aayla; there are tears in your eyes. I know this to be true for you’re the only woman I ever think about
every waking day and foreboding night. I cannot seem to ever acquire any sleep for you frequently haunt me in my dreams;
I have fallen unconditionally in love with the only woman in all the galaxy who cannot love me back it seems.
I realise, your code, it effortlessly prohibits you from doing what you did, and loving who you did love,
but take heart in the knowledge, his spirit lives on in Heaven, and I’m certain he looks down on you from up above.
Tell me though, code or not; do you believe he would want you to live life alone, to never experience a romance
with someone new? I ain’t no stranger Aayla, I know you as well as you know me, and all I’m asking for is a chance.

If those who you do serve, the Paladins, caught us in a close relationship, you they would in all likelihood banish and I they would certainly apprehend.
Such violent consequences are not those that would ever be allowed consideration by anyone who so much as wished to call themselves your ‘good friend.’
But perhaps ‘good friend’ I am not, for I frequently want more than you could possibly ever offer. Your defences I long to breach
to prove to you once and for all that with me you will never be burned, and true love will never die; with this said, finally I could reach
your heart, after proving beyond reasonable doubt that my truth is like the comet that will come to you like the brightest light
in the gathering dark, and until you have made your decision on what path you should take, my blood will become a ghostly white
with anxiety. I hope you realise, one cannot live without that which is a part of them; one cannot live without that which makes them whole,
for you are forever buried deep inside me, and because of that I love you. I love you with all my might, will all my heart, with all my soul,
and just like true love throughout the centuries past and those still to come, my feelings for you will never change, not with age, and certainly not with death;
I will continue to love you immensely even after my body is all but gone from this universe, and I have finally breathed my last breath.

I can clearly remember the first time I saw you, but in all honesty, how could I possibly ever forget
the night I laid eyes upon the single most beautiful Rayringii at a luxuriously majestic banquette
catered for by the Paladins whom you unconditionally serve so passionately. I could not believe in that moment I’d found a Cinderella
of my own. You smiled that gorgeous smile. You danced that exquisite dance. You spoke so enthusiastically, and whilst doing so introduced yourself as ‘Aayla.’
You turned to me as if to express ‘I love you’ and together we formally said our hellos, ‘beloved buongirono’, before I graciously took your hand in mine and gently plucked your succulent blue flesh
with a kiss. Turning to the dance floor, you became my partner for the duration of the piece. You placed one hand on my shoulder; I placed one hand on your hip; you placed one hand on my arm; I placed one hand on your back, your tentacles I longed to caress.
We moved like liquid, rhythmically pulsating across the crystal dance floor, before you gradually turned to leave. ‘Do you really have to leave so soon?’
I asked pleadingly as you turned to me and smiled. ‘There is a transport waiting to take me to the other side of the universe this afternoon’
you softly said, before disappearing from my sight. In the heat of the moment, I promised myself then,
as I am right now, that never will you be provided the opportunity to leave my side again.

One is the number of times I have thought of you in the past second. Sixty is the number of times I have thought of you in the past minute and all of the minutes that are to eventually come. Twenty four
is the number of hours I think about you every single day and seven is the number of days per week you flash before my eyes. Ten are the number of years I have known of you, and not a moment more,
for although I know of you, I fear you have no knowledge of me, and if I wait any longer to confess my true feelings this number will sadly become indefinite,
in determining the time it will take for you to feel as I do. However, I am willing to wait all the time in this universe, even whether it is infinite,
to one day have the opportunity to have and to hold you in my arms as I have always believed to be our fate,
which would, after all the eternal struggles of not having you standing beside me most definitely be worth the wait.
And when I could finally have you with me, and confess these feelings that are unlimited in their love for you, cherish
I would the moment, and all of the moments together that would undoubtedly come as our feelings take flight and flourish,
for incalculable is the vast amount of love I have for you within my beating heart, a number that may very well seem sublime;
not just a number, but a rare source of strong undying affection too, that will forever unto eternity stand the test of time.

‘Miss. Strogura’ I would begin when meeting you once more, as I take a breath, before expressing my feelings into words.  ‘E’ knowledge uset spera, ka’ ese E’ knowledge e’ posset plutus ka’ ese muchi’popollala Ernst ese E’ knowledge
ti nien’te forcus E’ nien’te romanca uset, cosi it’e uset nien’te romanca e’ butus, es’e it’e ti iti nien’te plutus ti es’ falsa ti E’ e’tta perpursella, ese ‘es ‘es falsa ti E’ derse yess’et elien yess’et ese magnesus tre,
es’e E’ derse alta perpursella ‘es falsa ti fueta ti yess’et, ti perpursella iti ‘es perpursella wersa uset e’tta nien’te terret plutus e’ crevact ‘es ti ullet iti e’ perpursella,
ese e’ lone’ plutus lone’ circe’ iti nien’elieniat halo, iti yess’et forcus plutus romanca, plutus ese e’ ger’rat, e’ ray’ro’am, ti ray’pareta iti e’ rayrulli plutus e’ wilahundra.
Plutus ti spek’ola, pleaseus alst e’ ti yess’et opal’li ese yss’et, plutus ese o’ silenzio spek’ola, es’e ese spek’ola ese cres’endo mult’i effectus nien’magnit terra; E’ romanca uset.
E’ hi nien’elieniat romanca uset Aayla Allen Strogura, plutus E’ knowledge E’ forcus nien’elieniat romanca uset, plutus arr’ot ‘es nien’te ‘es lone’ ni’rayl iti ti percetta galaxus ti rayrul du spek’ola o’ o’
o’ ‘u ‘es nien’te o’ ti wurs E’ fueta.’ You might gasp, your mouth partially ajar, as I take a gulp of air. ‘Kah’le’halset’ you would announce with a nod, ‘wersa uset spek’ola additial belis’imira’,
and I’d stand back with renown determination, proud to have had the strength to confess my feelings to the Rayringii woman who’s so unfathomably incredible.
‘May the Paladins grant you your wish’ you would begin anew, ‘to find the woman who it is that you have long sought after,’ and to this I would bow my head and gently say ‘amen’,
before you suddenly explain ‘for it isn’t I that can fulfill your dream. If you really, truly love me, you will kill yourself right now, for I never wish to see you again.’

To hear such words; words scarred by the years of endless torment and pain from your life unlived, is painful enough to listen to, but to watch you lose, as you announced such unspoken truths, the unbelievably gentle grace
that makes you who you truly are today, was incomprehensible. However, as I look at you once again, I realise, you are the same woman I always loved, with the captivatingly beautiful face,
who has, when I’ve been terribly lost within the universe, helped me find myself once more, after you found
me all alone, for I am never quite the man I am supposed to be whenever you are not around.
To be with you might take the impossible, but if I must transcend the walls of society and scale up past the broken parts,
to successfully navigate around the limitless brutal legions of failed relationships and horrifically wounded hearts,
then I would gladly do so to prove my vows of love for you anew. Once more with feeling, I fall to my knees at your feet; I am at your mercy;
I only hope you can see the truth within my loving eyes; I can only hope, like this universe, you have not become corrupt with zealously
unfeeling emotion. Here, before you now, I take your hands in mine, and I pledge my love to you; not for a minute, not for an hour,
not for a single day, or a week, a month, a year or a decade; but eternally and always unconditionally forever.

But vows are only ever vows when they are finally fulfilled, and on the eve of my confession, the universe breaks out into war,
as if only to screw with me, and you are called off with the Paladins to help bring balance to the peace and go into battle once more.
I promise I will wait for you. I have waited almost a decade to have you Aayla, and to wait another would mean nothing to me as I dream about you every day and night,
waiting for the day when you can return to these arms of mine so I might finally have the opportunity to kiss those crimson lips of yours after all of your courageous fights,
and explain that you are safe now, and free from the heat of battle. And perhaps one day, I will place all of my love into a golden band, and after placing it upon your finger, we could begin to start a family,
but this image of perfection is diminished by the sudden unfortunate truth that you died on a planet called Fargollis whilst defending your fellow troops from the endless onslaught of a vicious invading army.
I cry an endless ocean of tears that lasts for days and days, and even though your body now is nothing more than some burnt and charred remains,
still, the ghost of my affection taunts me, as does the ghost of you, whilst my heart is constantly kept secure behind a wall of iron chains,
and not long after the funeral, in which an empty casket was buried deep below the surface of the ground, my heart slowly but surely begins to die, and later I die too,
because Aayla Allen Strogura, Rayringii Paladin and peacemaker, I, Derek Childs, cannot live alone in a universe without your beauty, I cannot live without you.

END NOTES:
I am sure any Star Wars fan would have being able to see through the falsified identities that I created within this piece. Obviously the Paladins are Jedi, the planet Illos is Ryloth, the Rayringii are Twi’lek and Aayla Strogura is in fact Jedi Master Aayla Secura, with one or two minor changes to her identity and that of her home world. I purposefully changed such identities because I do not own the rights to any such aspect of the Star Wars universe and very obviously did not want to be sued.
I always wanted to write a poem about a love story between a human man and an alien woman, and I was inspired to do so by the image of the incredibly beautiful young woman found at this link http://www.flickr.com/photos/32613560@N08/6912124745/, who is unfortunately to this day an untitled beauty. I don’t know who she is, but she is quite possibly the single most gorgeous Aayla Secura impersonator I have ever seen, and because of that, she helped me develop Aayla Strogura into a more beautiful and lively character.  Also, I don’t own the rights to the image or to the link that is generated within this piece.
Thank you for reading.

Metropolis Me

SYNOPSIS: About the rekindling of a friendship that incorporated romanticised feelings after so many years of being apart, and the wish that this friendship could grow into something much more powerful and everlasting. The man in the story is broken to some extent, and whether this be physical or emotional is up to reader discretion.

You were born in north east Victoria, raised in Sydenham;
fell in love at age fourteen to a young man from north Melbourne.
Four years later that dream was over, he didn’t give love a second chance
and then you went to college where you studied gymnastics, drama and dance.
It was in that same year the both of us happened to meet so suddenly,
you were the smart attractive student, whilst the opposite was played by me.
When we met, the two of us were complete and utter strangers,
but inside my heart I felt such extraordinary changes.

When we first met and I told you my feelings, I could have instead not said a word,
but my heart, it said to me ‘I will not allow these strong feelings to go unheard.
I would spend my life forever in your arms if given the choice,
moreover, I would do almost anything just to hear your voice.
One hundred is the number of days since last I laid eyes on your pretty face,
one million is the number of times I’ve thought of you since we met in that place.
I have thoughts of you, constantly, running throughout my mind,
true love together, in the future, we could one day find.

However, such written words, without action, are almost meaningless,
without the actual emotion they could never truly impress.
That is why I ask if we could meet up tomorrow yet again
and rekindle that age old flame, whilst making jokes with an old friend.
I may seem incredibly young, but I am not emotionally weak,
all of these thoughts and feelings I have buried inside me, I wish to speak;
and so instead they are typed up, in a badly written love poem,
it’s described this way for I’ve never written one with heart, soul and solemn.

Inevitably, only a stubborn fool could believe in love;
a fool I must be for falling for an angel from up above.
Intense, powerful and passionate emotions could easily begin
the moment I touch, taste and smell your divine and lusciously silky skin.
Immediately after this occurrence we could make true love for the first time,
an occurrence that for me, would be forever unto eternity; sublime.
Nothing could be better as I dance inside you; within your secret garden,
with its hydrated rainforest canopy and continuous seduction.

If you chose to live by my side I’d never need to have happiness or wealth,
yet another of the many things I wanted to accomplish for myself.
There have been so many things I’ve wanted to do which have been barred from my life;
I wanted to settle down, make a child; a daughter and have you as my wife.
Instead, I believe I can say without a flickering shadow of a doubt,
that you will never know how I feel for you until this life of mine runs out.
I wish when they spoke about ‘forever’ they’d be talking about us; me and you,
there is nothing else in this world I would ever dream of committing myself to.

When I look into the mirror, a broken man is all I ever see,
I wish you could bear witness to the romantic places inside of me.
I doubt you’ve ever seen my face for it’s hidden behind a mask of emotions,
if you don’t want to see me again just tell me and I’ll obey your instructions.
I’ll admit, I don’t want to remove from my heart someone who has left such a mark,
for when we first met you came to me like the brightest light in the gathering dark.
In truth I want to provide to you all the love in my heart and soul,
I believe I’m to be the man whose destiny is to make you whole.

Without you I am lost within the boundaries of the twilight zone,
I am exactly like that old dog who has lost his favorite bone.
All of the things that we have done we can always undo,
however, the one thing I would never replace – is you.
I am yet to realise if it’s you or my mind that I am losing,
if I don’t have you in my life it will be my heart that I’m abusing.
Inevitably I should use my heart before it is ground up into dust,
before I die I hope to give it to you; the only woman whom I lust.

All I have to give to you are these three words every day and night;
if only such words could constantly fill you with ravishing delight.
I do not have a million dollars, nor do I have handsome looks,
I could never provide to you the fairytale inside children’s books;
I do not have a luxurious car, nor do I have an amazing career;
could you ever sleep beside and love such a person? I don’t think you could I fear.
If you were to suddenly turn away and leave I would be forced to ask you ‘why?
Have I not tried to give you everything?’ I would ask, as I began to cry.

I wish you could stay with me tonight to watch this life of mine unfold
and experience together the greatest love story never told.
However, we are constantly separated by forests, rivers and seas,
I cannot wait for you to one day return back home once more and marry me.
I dream of such an occurrence transpiring almost every single day;
I wish love could quit wearing a disguise and instead transform into a foray.
So please, tie your long hair back, put your perfume on and make your face look just so pretty
and then meet me, your man always and forever, in your local suburban city.

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.’

FIVE YEARS LATER

‘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.

TWO DAYS LATER

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.

Lion Heart

SYNOPSIS: A young man attempts to come to terms with the fact that the woman of his dreams is arranged to be married by her parents to another man.

Gregory Wiseman lay in a hospital bed in the recovery ward, his face covered in a multitude of scars and abrasions from intensive trauma. He had light brown coloured hair and dark brown eyes. His cheeks were normally a dull red in colour, but today were particularly bright from the abrasions he had received. Tubes ran out from his nose and an additional tube ran from his vein to a drip, his heart and pulse rate being lower than optimal as he slowly breathed in and out. His eyes were closed whilst in the unconscious state he was in, his body completely motionless as he lay with his head propped up against a pillow. How did he manage to get into such a critical state? The answer for this remained in his past…

Gregory had always had feelings for Lisa. To him she was both mentally and physically beautiful. She had dark, curly hair and big round eyes that were brown in colour. She had a radiant glow to her skin and her smile was to die for. Not only this, but she was incredibly intellectual in many different subjects.
So when he asked her if she wanted to begin seeing him socially it just seemed like the natural thing to do and when she agreed to have a relationship with him he was over joyed.
The reaction Augustus, Lisa’s father had however was quite the opposite. Augustus had jet black hair that was shoulder length in appearance, a few gray hairs beginning to appear. His eyes were a cold, black in colour and his nose was rather large upon his aging, yellow coloured face. His mouth was often open in a snarl and he spoke with a strong accent that made him often appear twice as angry.
‘How dare you go against your family like this!’ he roared when he managed to extract the news from his daughter. ‘Lisa, you are my only daughter and I love you, which is why I expect the best for you. Having a relationship with this Anglo is not the answer. That is why we orchestrated for you to be engaged to Mathieu. You do remember him don’t you? He is one of us, Lisa. That is how we preserve our culture, by marrying into families of our same heritage, not by desecrating our family name and completely and barbarically humiliating us by having a relationship with some ocker. Your mother and I did not immigrate to this country for you to marry some Australian prick. We came for the opportunities it would hold for you. Now you are better than this Anglo. Which is why in two weeks time you shall be united with Mathieu and the two of you can start your lives together.’
Lisa had tried to protest against this and had even attempted to get her mother, Maria’s help, but neither attempts to change her father’s mind succeeded. Her mother too felt it was the best thing Lisa could do, although she of course did not wish to anger her husband and take the side of the one person who could embarrass them by bringing home a person who was not of their culture.
Maria herself had jet black hair like her husband which was always tied back in a bun as to ensure it made its way straight down the very centre of her back. She had large, jet black eyes that seemed to not properly belong to the rest of her person, whilst great red lips were placed upon her face that too seemed to exceed the size that was meant for her.
When Lisa had to reluctantly renege on the date Gregory had offered her he was considerably shocked and badly hurt by this sudden change of heart. He attempted to ask her about this immediate change, but Lisa decided not to tell him the truth, believing he would not be able to properly understand nor comprehend.
Two weeks later, just like her father had promised, Mathieu arrived. He was a tall muscular man that seemed to have an interior train of thought, i.e. he only ever thought of himself. He had dark brown eyes and hair that was always drenched in bodily fluid and had a rather tanned body. He walked around wearing a muscle top and a rumor was that back home he walked around with a bare chest. He had large ears that did not properly seem to suit him, making him look as though he was about ready to take off and fly away at a moment’s notice. His stomach too seemed inappropriately large, making it seem as though he was the kind of man who really enjoyed his beer. There was also the rumor that he had been married several times before, the women who had managed to break the relationship off with him never supplying satisfactory reasons as to why they wanted to be rid of him. They just wanted the relationship to end. Although a man who had been divorced numerous times was seen as a disgraced individual, he was still worth marrying into.
When Lisa turned twenty two she thought she was old. Mathieu however was forty six, leaving Lisa feeling incredibly young by comparison. What put Lisa off most about the man she was expected to marry was not just his physical appearance nor his age, but the lack of English he knew. It was true that she was fluent in both her native tongue as well as in the English dialect, but her English skills far exceeded the knowledge she knew of her own native language.  She did of course bring up this dispute with her father who simply waved it away as he managed the wedding arrangements with Mathieu, who would become an Australian citizen immediately after the marriage had been initiated.
Mathieu himself felt offended at his future wife’s slanderous comments towards his ability to speak English, instantly saying in a heavy Greek accent ‘I can to speak your English! Sea shells sea shells by the sea shore! How much wood could a wood chopper chop if a wood chopper could chop wood?’ He seemed remarkably pleased with himself. Lisa however, was not.
Her opinions appeared however to be invalid though and from then on she was forced to escort her future husband around the environment to get him to know the region.
Gregory occasionally noticed them traversing the city and eventually decided to go to Lisa’s house to find out exactly what was going on. Upon knocking on the door she answered, seeming almost relieved to have a distraction from what was currently occurring in her life, her face having a distinct sadness to it.
‘It took me years to sum up the courage to express to you my feelings’ admitted Gregory, holding a bouquet of flowers out to her. ‘The least you can do is explain to me why you can’t be with me.’
‘I am sorry Gregory’ she said, ‘but I am currently with someone else.’
‘Really?’ he probed. ‘Perhaps you could have told me this before agreeing to go out with me.’
‘I wasn’t engaged then as I am now’ said Lisa, looking as though she didn’t wish to express her current marital status out loud.
‘You’re engaged?’ asked Gregory bewildered. ‘And here I was hoping I might still have a chance to spend the rest of my life with you.’
‘I’m sorry’ said Lisa sadly. ‘You’re really sweet, but I’m afraid we just can’t be together.’
With that, the door closed in Gregory’s face as he began to make his way back towards the side walk, before stopping suddenly and spinning around. ‘Lisa Tsarios!’ he cried at the top of his lungs. ‘I am in love with you and from now until the day I die I will continue to be! And before that moment does indeed transpire, I will marry you and cherish you forever!’
He made his way back whence he came after saying this, a plan already in motion inside his mind.
Whilst inside the house, it was not only Lisa who had heard what Gregory had cried.
‘Who was that idiot?’ spluttered Augustus angrily. ‘Doesn’t that Anglo prick have anyone else he could annoy at this time of day? Doesn’t he know we have a wedding to prepare?’
‘If he comes round here again I’ll kill him!’ cried Mathieu in a Neanderthal-like tone.
Lisa however didn’t hear any of this. She was far too busy being swept away by the comment that Gregory had just made to her whilst she lay in her bed, smiling at the idea of being married to him.
Over the next month Gregory began to show to Lisa exactly how he felt. On numerous mornings flowers were deposited at her door which her father chucked out post haste, the remnants of them often found in the trash receptacle. These she dusted off before applying them in a glass of water and suspending them in her room.
Love letters and romanticised poems were placed inside her mail box, both her father and Mathieu ripping these into smithereens. Mathieu often read them beforehand though, which simply made him even madder. On a couple of occasions however he quite liked the verses and read them to Lisa, attempting to pass them off as his own to make his future wife feel more comfortable with the idea of marrying him. However, she could always see through his lies, knowing full well who had written them, finding the prose to be quite beautiful.
One university morning a broadcast was made, specifying for those who had burnt the phrase ‘I love Lisa Tsarios’ into the front lawn to come forth, Lisa giggling upon hearing this announcement which no one ever admitted to.
During a class PowerPoint presentation which students found incredibly boring, Lisa suddenly became attracted to the fourteenth slide which the two students giving the presentation swore they had never inserted. The words on the slide specified ‘I love Lisa Tsarios 4 life’, the class finding this to be the most amusing part about the assignment. The students giving the presentation managed to obtain eighty five per cent of the expected mark for their project.
Later that same week, Lisa was making her way back to her car and discovered a note attached under one of the windscreen wipers which indicated for her to make her way to the park.
Upon arriving, Lisa found a picnic site had been erected, Gregory making his way out from behind her and presenting her with a bouquet of flowers which she took with a dazzling smile. Together they sat down to eat the food that Gregory had prepared, just as Mathieu happened to drive past. He had only recently begun to learn how to drive in Australia and often did so with a huge smile on his face, believing that such a talent was the most amazing thing he had ever accomplished. ‘You see, I am Australian enough already?’ he could be often heard saying as he drove past the houses in the neighborhood. 
On this one occasion however, no such words were to come from his lips. He instantly stopped the car and stormed over to Lisa, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her away.
‘How dare you humiliate me like this!’ he roared, his English becoming only slightly better. ‘I see the only way to stop this absurd behaviour is to stop it at the source.’ With that, he proceeded to hit Gregory who fell flat to the ground, blood rolling down his face as Mathieu continued to brutalise him, smiling as he did so.
‘Stop!’ cried Lisa, throwing her hands up in the air. ‘Mathieu, I won’t marry you!’
At these words Mathieu stopped and stood to his feet, Gregory lying motionless on the ground beside him.
‘I love him more than I could ever love you!’ shouted Lisa, throwing the engagement ring she had been forced to wear over the past month directly at Mathieu who reluctantly left after kicking Gregory’s motionless body once more.
Lisa proceeded to call the ambulance service, riding in the emergency vehicle with Gregory as he was taken into the emergency ward to access the overall damage which had been done to his person.
Lisa waited outside to hear the news, her mother and father later arriving. ‘Mathieu was just arrested!’ exploded Augustus. ‘I think you had better explain yourself young lady!’ he cried, slapping his daughter across the face.
‘And so he should have been!’ retaliated Lisa. ‘He could have killed Gregory!’
‘Again with the bloody Anglo!’ growled Augustus. ‘Who cares about this damn Australian bastard! He deserved all that he received for meddling in our affairs. If he does die he will die a hero to the people of Greece, because from here on no Anglo will ever meddle in our affairs from fear of what will happen to them. Besides, Mathieu won’t be charged. He was released under the condition that he would never return to Australia. Do you know what you have done? You have ruined the chance you had with Mathieu. He would have been good for you, but no, you had to humiliate us!’
‘Gregory loves me!’ shouted Lisa. ‘I know you don’t want him to, but love has no cultural background like we do. It makes the decisions at its own volition. It has no laws; no boundaries. It does what it will and it has no adversary strong enough to bring it to its knees.’
‘Then love is a fool and deserves the same fate as that bastard in there!’ shouted Augustus, indicating at the emergency ward. ‘If you choose him over your own family do not expect to come back to us. From now on you are no longer our daughter and I am no longer your father.’ With that both of Lisa’s parents left as she stood in the empty corridor of the hospital.
Not long afterwards Gregory was released into the recovering ward, Lisa sitting by his side, waiting for him to awake, just as one of his fingers moved, his eyes beginning to open as he awoke to see Lisa’s smiling face.
‘What happened?’ he asked, a pained expression making its way across his features.
‘Rest now’ smiled Lisa, kissing his forehead before rubbing it with her gentle fingers. ‘We will talk again later.’

And so they did.

Secrets of the Grassy Knoll

SYNOPSIS: Told from the point of view of a fox, this piece tells the story of a friendship between a fox and a young boy.

I met Malcolm in the long grasses outside of his home in the hot, dry country of the Australian outback. He had worn a blue and red striped cardigan with baggy blue jeans and great black boots which went up to his knees. His eyes were an incredible blue, his hair a pitch black in colour, whilst his cheeks constantly maintained a rosy glow.
He had been playing in the paddocks whilst his father stayed inside with Phillip, the man who helped him with every chore.
Malcolm had continued to wander further and further out into the dense grass before he found me deep within the shrubbery.
I whimpered in the grasses from fear of what he might do to me. I was so young and naïve at the time. His kind had taken away everything from me. Both my mother and father had being killed by hunters; the litter of siblings I was once a part of had being completely destroyed.
But instead, he changed my perception on humanity entirely. Sensing I was hurt, he gingerly picked me up in his little hands and took me into his care. From this point on he would help me, clean me and feed me and we would never be apart. And so was the story of the fox and his Malcolm.

Every night from then on Malcolm would make his way into the tangled brushes and blades of grass and bring me out a small slab of meat and a bowl of milk. He laughed playfully as I lapped up the milk with my dainty pink tongue and whilst doing so he would stroke my orange coat. Every so often he would arrive with a brush as well and stroke down my fur until it was beautifully straight once more after a day in the tangled grasses.
During the nights that became both cold and wet he would shelter me from the storm. Taking me up in his arms, Malcolm would escort me into the house, ensuring his father had no knowledge of what was occurring right under his nose. Placing me inside the confines of his warm duvet cover, I snuggled up beside him and heard the gentle rhythm of his heart beating in time to mine. I would hear the frightening sounds of thunder crashing across the sky and I would witness the lightning scorch the clouds above. Malcolm would grab a hold of me and whisper that everything would be okay and I would yelp playfully beside him and nibble at his ear to signify that I too would protect him like he had protected me.

However, during the days that Malcolm did not spend with me, he spent with his father. I never did hear what they said, but I knew right from the moment I saw him that his father did not respond well to my kind. I often saw him watching the both of us out in the grass whilst he stayed indoors working with Philip.
Whenever Malcolm came into the grass after speaking with his father he never did seem himself at first and when a tear ran down his cheek I gently brushed my body up against his to reassure him that I was here and never would I be gone. Once again Malcolm would be happy and once more we would frolic in the underbrush.

But when hunting season began to draw closer, Malcolm began to become frightened with every moment he spent with me, almost as though he felt that each time there was the chance that we would never see each other again. I would yelp and cry in representation of such ideology being absolutely ridiculous, but even I had sensed a change on the wind.
The father had taken out his rifle, cleaned and oiled the particular weapon of choice and admired it in the kitchen window whilst looking at me as though I did not belong. Philip too had acquired a rifle of his own and had gone through the exact same strategy.
I noticed the undergrowth around me begin to grow more silent, a deathly quiet coming over the land as though all other forms of life had begun to leave in trepidation of what was to come. Malcolm had explained to me that it was all some sort of game, yet I found that a little hard to believe, for I did not wish to play.

But on the fateful morning that hunting season finally came into full swing it appeared that I inevitably had no choice. Malcolm and I were once again in the grasses dancing together as one when both Philip and his father began to make their way into the undergrowth.
Noticing a duck that had not yet fled the premises, Philip took his shot, the bullet just missing the animal as it took flight in the nick of time. I heard him curse impatiently under his breath as Malcolm and I attempted to hide in the grasses. They had waited an entire year to kill again and they were eager to accomplish such a task.
It was then that the father saw me. It was not difficult, there was no concealing my body in the brush as Malcolm began to look incredibly frightened.
I looked up into his adorable little face as he cried ‘run foxy, run!’
I thought of staying, but I noticed the look in his eye and the terror on his face and with that I took his advice. I heard the sound of a rifle being reloaded as I leapt through the undergrowth, Malcolm continuing to cry at the top of his lungs for me to run as far away as I possibly could. Just at that moment a terrific cracking sound rattled through the bush, sending chills of terror throughout the landscape. Birds flew out from the trees and little beetles scurried into the safety of the ground below. Never in all my life had I heard such silence. I whimpered, seating myself down in the brush whilst I surveyed the landscape before quickly hurrying back in the direction of my all time dearest friend.
Drawing nearer, I heard the father cry ‘I think I shot something’, his voice high pitched and happy. I took a few extra steps forward, my feet beginning to wander through a wet substance in the grass as I looked down at the ground beneath me. And there on the ground, lay my Malcolm. Friend of animals great and small; the best friend a fox could ever have.