365 Ficlets - #170 ~ "Sunday Morning in Stellenbosch"

The streets were quiet as I wandered between the oak-lined avenues of the older quarter of Stellenbosch on that Sunday morning. Shoes in hand dodging from patch of shade to patch of shade as the sun had already baked the ground it touched, I tried to find my bearings in order to get back to the deVriert household. My hosts were not going to be wondering where I was when I had not returned on the previous night. There was an alarming and yet also disarming air of honesty in the house, and I was sure that Zander was going to be regaling the family with my conquest over breakfast as I tried to find my way back through the city.

It had been my third night on the Cape and Zander and his brothers had taken it upon themselves to get the English boy laid, “good’n’proper”. They took me into town and found the busiest student bar that they could. They introduced me to every Cape Cutie that came by the table, whether she was interested or not. It took them two hours, the fact that Clarissa was Canadian was not important.

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365 Ficlets - #169 ~ "On Signal Hill"

The sun was dipping into the ocean, a shimmering ball of orange light, lending its softened light to the stunning vista of the bay between Cape Town and Robben Island. Lydia was leaning into my shoulder, cradling her wine glass in one hand, the other gently playing across my thigh. The sunset was beautiful, the wine was exquisite; it was easy to pretend that everything was well in the world, but despite her attempts to set the mood, I could not shake the row the night before.

In the past going on holiday had been a way to create the initial idyll of our relationship, to put a pin in the reality of day to day life and the little and the big issues between us and just enjoy one another again in a bubble away from home. Not so this time. This time I was trying to enjoy the view and the luck I had to be in that place, and yet all I could think about was the fights and the disagreements from the week before.

She nuzzled into my neck, looking for a kiss. I pretended not to notice; it was easier. She did not persist.

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365 Ficlets - #168 ~ "The Cape Doctor"

The wind was blowing pretty hard by the time we fell out of the cab outside the guest house. Maurice, one of the proprietors, had told us that the wind was going to die down by the following morning, but that would have to mean that it had blown itself out pretty hard between midnight and sunrise.

I could see that Geoffrey was starting to wonder about the boat-ride out to Robben Island the next day. If the Cape South Easter kept blowing, then seeing the famous prison colony was going to be bracketed by the hell of choppy seas; a fate worse than death for him, and not one that I relished all that much.

We let ourselves into the garden and were laughing and joking about the day we had enjoyed, seeing the penguins and the baboons, when I noticed that the front door was ajar, and that there was a red hand print at about knee height as if someone had tried to grab the door from the floor. I raised my finger to my lips and shushed Geoff and Sybil, but there was no need; their faces told me that they had seen it too.

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365 Ficlets - #167 ~ "The Cartier Affair"

The cable car was swinging gently from side to side in the breeze as the dessert course was served; a finely prepared cheesecake, drizzled with caramel and garnished with whipped cream. The diners applauded and turned to their host, directing their appreciation at him for having organised this sumptuous feast, hanging in space halfway up Table Mountain. As the applause started to die away, their host Roger Fingliss took to his feet and began to speak;

“Friends, thank you for answering my invitation and for all of your support and business over the years. You know that I am about to embark on an incredible speculative investment, by buying the technology to create much higher quality synthetic diamonds than ever before.”

There were scattered mumblings in the crowd and one man looked as though he were getting up out of his chair to leave; the Chairman of DeBeers, so no surprise.

Still there was a general sense of consent, so Fingliss went on;

“Anyone of you that wants to join with me can. Think about it, please.”

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This is the usual Wednesday Ficlet (based on the three things poll), but on a Thursday, and the three things were suggested as a team submission by Chiara and Morgan; cheescake, a cable car, and speculative investment.

365 Ficlets - #166 ~ "The Other Side of Night"

It was the middle of the night on the plane. After the initial excitement of drinks, food and the thirty different features, most passengers were sleeping. The lights had been dimmed and the only noise, apart from the ambient hum of the engines, was the low snuffling of sleepers, and the gentle rustle of airline blankets.

This was Ferdy’s favourite time to be in the air. There was a magic to night flights that really appealed to him. On a daylight flight there were too may excitable children and groups of friends chatting instead of politely reading their books or plugging into iPods and laptops. For a lot of people air travel is a necessary evil, a trial to be weathered or tolerated. Ferdy loved the sense of wonder that flying still brought him.

He got up out of his seat and padded softly to the back of the cabin to see if any of the cabin staff could sneak him some extra nuts, juice, or couple of cokes from the business class passengers who got a can to themselves instead of having a glass poured for them.

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This was written on the flight to CapeTown (big surprise!), but clearly I did not have a connection to post it until now :-)

365 Ficlets - #165 ~ "First Time"

The sun was not yet even thinking of coming up when I was awoken by a gentle tapping at my bedroom door. I clawed my way into consciousness, checked the clock - three am, roughly - and pulled a towel about me to open the door.

I pulled it open just a crack, expecting light from the landing to pour in, but it did not. The long, tall window at the end of the corridor was filled with moonlight, this softer light bathing Andrea as she stood naked, about to knock once more. She started as she realised that I was peering out at her through sleep-clogged eyes. She met my gaze with her own, and her meaning was clear, even to me just awake. I shook off the last of sleep’s mantle and reached out of the doorway for her hand; pulled her gently inside. I took her over to my window and pulled back the curtains, filling the room with moonlight. I let my towel fall away and I turned to face her, the palms of my hands resting gently against her upper arms. For a moment we looked at each other, and then silently we kissed.

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365 Ficlets - #164 ~ "Crunch Time"

“Have you thought about internet dating? I mean everyone’s doing it now, you know.”

I would have had a lot more respect for my best friend if she had delivered this winning strategy idea with a modicum of conviction. We both knew what she was thinking; “He could always put a picture from 2006 up, from before he put the weight back on, and then dress to best advantage…”

Now to her credit the other half of this thought is the much kinder “because if they get to know him they’ll make allowances”, which means at least she had faith in the amount of ‘smart and funny’ I could bring to the table, with perhaps a side-order of ‘doing okay for money’ if need be.

I looked at her, with a look that says ‘Bitch please!’. I could not control the muscles of my face. Hey that’s my story and I am sticking to it.

“OK, bad idea.”

“You think? Hell Linz, anyone not put off by the girth issue stands to be so toxic from previous damage... There’s nothing for it; the soup diet and spinning three times a week; it’s time for kill or cure!”

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Normally on Mondays I try to write a Ficlet inspired by the front page of the English Language Wikipedia Site, but there was nothing all that inspired today, so I present this instead...

365 Ficlets - #163 ~ "It's the Little Things..."

There is a sound that only smokers hear, rather that only smokers recognise. It is the sound that a cigarette makes as the flame from lighter or match catches the tip and the first drag of smoke flows into your lungs. The closest I can come to describing it is like the sound you would get from scrunching up a piece of very fine tissue paper, but even then that is not it. It is close, but there is another element to it as well, something that defies description and yet at the same time you could ask any smoker and they would know exactly what you meant.

As we stood there on the top of the cliff looking down at the city lights below, winking in the darkness, I realised that I was craving the chance to hear that sound; not a smoke at all. I did not have any on me; it had been 8 months since I had. Peter would not have any with him, after all he had been one of the principal architects of my quitting this time. I had to find a way to manage the anticipation and excitement without one. Peter nodded, time to jump.

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365 Ficlets - #162 ~ "Crisis Averted?"

“Come now, we may be strangers to one another, but there is no need for that.”

The tall stranger slowly moved his hand away from the hilt of his sword, but in a slow and measured way that made it clear he would have no trouble getting it back there.

Bomo was trying very hard not to appear frightened; he knew that while Safin was doing the talking, he would be the one doing the fighting if it all went wrong. After all Safin had difficulty with cutlery; weapons were well beyond his capabilities.

“Won’t you sit with us and eat something? Perhaps we could offer you a drink? I assure you that we mean you no harm.”

The stranger nodded, and moved off the road in the direction that Safin had gestured, his gaze still flitting between them. Bomo was fairly sure that this clearly battle seasoned individual was looking for the double-cross, despite his apparently more relaxed air.

Safin sat first and began to set out the small stove that he carried everywhere. Bomo had never been more glad of his friend’s obsession with tea.

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365 Ficlets - #161 ~ "Satori on a Teabreak"

The tea was exactly what he needed to keep him awake. Not only was it good and hot, but it was strong and sweet, a heady cocktail of caffeine and sugar to stave off heavy eyelids and the inability to concentrate.

All around him people were laughing, smoking and drinking, and even though he felt slightly left out he also felt incredibly proud to be a part of the people who made it all possible. Even with the fact that he was not really able to party there had been some dancing, some chatting with the people that he only saw once a month but still called his friends, and then there was the time he spent watching her.

Across the garden she was chatting to some people he did not recognise, and there was a good chance one of those men might be thinking the same things about her as he was, but then they were actually talking to her. This was not an unusal moment for him, realising that he was failing to confront things with a woman and assuming that there was no point in trying. He took a breath and finished his tea.

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365 Ficlets - #160 ~ "Sunrise at the Lake"

The old rocking chair out on the porch was moving very gently in the breeze; I could hear it moving behind me. The light was glittering off the lake’s rippled surface, warming my face. The light, like molten gold, trickled into my eyes and somehow calmed my soul.

I had been out at the lake for three days, and I had spent most of it sleeping, but that morning I had awoken feeling fresh and rested for the first time in weeks, and the sun was coming up. There in the April morning all of my troubles melted away; yet in the back of my mind I knew it was respite at best.

Kirsty had been gone for just over a month and I still found myself talking to her over my shoulder, noticing a TV show in the paper that would interest her or just including her in my thinking when something moved me;

“Look at that sunrise, baby. Oh how I wish you could see this.”

On the treeline I heard a noise, and turning to look I saw that a young doe was staring right at me, her deep black eyes shining in the morning light, like obsidian mirrors.

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365 Ficlets - #159 ~ "Karina"

The photograph is old and cracked now, the corners bent; one is torn off. Even so I take down my copy of The Brothers Karamzov at least once a week and open it to the page where I keep this last touchstone of my Karina.

I remember the day that we met as if it were yesterday. I was looking for an obscure text, a treatise from the nineteenth century about the provenance of the gospels, and I thought myself to be alone on the sixth floor, after all there was never anyone there after six on a Saturday night. I turned a corner between the shelves, into an open area with a study table and there, kneeling by the table with her back to me, head buried between the legs of another girl, was Karina. She looked up, into my eyes, smiled, then simply gestured for me to join her. Of course I did, I was ensorcled. I will never forget the thrill that shot through me when she took my hand and pressed it urgently against her sex, willing me to give her pleasure, as I watched her make love to a woman whose name I never learned.

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This Ficlet was inspired by Kt's suggestions of a torn photograph, a library and a being interrupted as item, place and activity from the Wednesday poll on my Livejournal.

365 Ficlets - #158 ~ "Boiling Point"

“Will you shut up? Honestly you really do spout some crap from time to time! I’m not leaving you; what the hell gave you that impression?”

She started to wipe the tears away with the backs of her hands; the panda eyes now became racoon markings. Why was she wearing mascara anyway, we were just ‘about the house’?

“I don’t know Ted. You’ve not come near me all weekend, you are always on that bloody mobile and never in front of me. I think anyone would assume that you were cheating at this point!”

So it was going to be like this; heaven help me.

“I don’t want to spend the whole weekend rutting and you think that there’s something wrong? Jill I spent every night this week trying to get you in the mood; candle-lit dinner to flat out demanding you suck me off, and everything in between. Now, when I’m having a crisis with the event you wonder why I’m not chasing your pussy all over the house? I love you, darling, I’m not leaving, I am not seeing anyone else. Please let me work before we’re living on the street, ok?”

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365 Ficlets - #157 ~ "Friday the Thirteenth?"

BANG BANG BANG

He struggled for the land of the awake; it was still dark outside. The room was pitch black. The shock of waking to so much loud noise had left him tangled in the blanket. Knowing this gave him no comfort whatsoever as he tipped face first towards the floor, saving himself from a bloody nose at the very last second, as his shoulder bore the brunt of the fall.

BANG BANG BANG

Someone really wanted to get into the house, and he had a feeling that they were not there to spread good tidings and joy. He disentangled himself, pulled on his breeches and buckled on a sword. He was pulling a shirt on when Gabriel came barrelling into the room, half dressed himself, talking at ten to the dozen;

“Luc! It’s the King’s men. The Pope has conceded to the arrest of all Templars, and they are here for our guests.”

Luc paused for a moment and then, gesturing for Luc to calm down and be quieter said;

“Hide them. There are spaces under the wine casks. I will talk to the soldiers. Now go, and hide their colours as well!”

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This Ficlet was inspired by the front page of Wikipedia for the 13th of October 2008, in English. The Article was from the "On This Day..." section from the 13th of October 2008 and concerned arrests of the Knights Templar, which began on the 13th of October 1307; you can find out more here.

365 Ficlets - #156 ~ "Relationships can be habit forming..."

“What do you want to do today?”

I looked up at her, still a little bleary.

“It’s your birthday. That means you get to decide.”

She was smiling. How could I tell her that I wanted to go to the driving range, spend some time on my allotment and to head down to the pub with John and Harry for a bite and the football? Her smile was filled with expectation that I would want to spend my birthday with her, making love, talking, maybe a romantic walk along the beach that she loved so much we had to move here. I cannot tell you when I had stopped desiring her, stopped filling my time with making her happy, getting her to share her thoughts, wanting her naked, horny and alone at the same time. It just happened. I caught myself trying to work out how I could get her off the subject some romantic weekend away because it clashed with the television coverage of the British Open. Decision time;

“Anything I want?”

I wanted to keep the lie going; I know that I should not have done. I raised an eyebrow and pulled back the sheet.

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365 Ficlets - #155 ~ "Pact"

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean, am I sure? Are you kidding me? We’ve been talking about this for weeks! Why are you askin’ me now if I’m sure?”

“Because this is the last chance that you have to back out and I wanted to be sure that you are sure.”

“Look it’s not making me angry, but why do you assume that I’m going to back out of things? I mean if it’s just that you want to make sure that I’m happy then that’s fine, but it feels like you are assuming that I will let you down.”

“Look, let’s not get into that now, okay? I wasn’t trying to suggest that you are going to back out, really. I just wanted you to feel like it was okay, I mean it’s a big deal.”

The mirror was sitting between them, the blade to one side, the light glinting off its sharp edge.

Howard picked up the knife, never once moving his gaze away from Petra, but somehow managing to draw it across his palm and spill a small pool of blood on the mirror. He wiped the blade clean and placed the knife back on the table, hilt to Petra.

“Ok then, your turn.”

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365 Ficlets - #154 ~ "If I could talk to the animals..."

“What are you doing that for?”

Llewellyn looked around, trying to find the source of the high pitched and slightly scratchy voice. It was not human, even though he had no idea what manner of being could own such a voice. Maybe it was one of Odette’s friends playing a trick on him; they did that quite a lot.

“Up here!”

Sitting in a saddle where the bole of the oak tree next to him split, was a squirrel. Llewellyn was fairly sure that the average squirrel did not speak, and also that they were not usually as big as this specimen, which was more the size of a small dog than even a large squirrel. He tried to hide his dismay and was about to speak when;

“What’s the matter? You never been spoken to by an animal before? How old are you anyway? You must have led a pretty sheltered life if you’ve grown up this close to a faerie wood and not been addressed by a blackbird or a fox, nay even a squirrel, before.”

Was he mad? Dreaming? Better that than this be real. Such nonsense was not likely to be well received by his aunt.

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365 Ficlets - #153 ~ "Every time I walk down the street"

“What do you mean you’ve never heard of John Peel? Andrew! Are you aware that your seventeen year old son has never heard of Peel? And you claim to be a good father!”

The smile on my brother’s face as this torrent of jovial taunting broke forth confirmed that I was being brought to task for crimes against music; again. It was only twenty-five years since the greatest radio DJ the world has ever known had been taken from us; how was it that my son did not know his name? There were many, many bootlegs of his shows and sessions in the family’s audio library, and yet my son, who calls himself a music fan, had not noticed the aformentioned Margrave of the Marshes.

“You’re absolutely right. I’m a terrible disappointment as a parent. I feel ashamed”

I tried to keep a straight face, but before we knew it the room was filled with laughter.

“Andrew, you know that it came up because it’s Peel Day?”

I had forgotten, but on being reminded it seemed appropriate to put on some music;

"Teenage dreams, so hard to beat..."

Brilliant.

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Today was nominated as John Peel Day 2008 by the BBC, one of the keenest protectors of his legacy. The anniversary of his death is in a little over two weeks... I can still remember where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news, and I still feel the space left behind on Radio 1 & 4 with him gone - wherever you are John, thanks, so much, for everything that you did and said.

365 Ficlets - #152 ~ "Commercial Realities"

The arch of her back was exquisite. The stark lighting and her skills as a model were a part of that mystery, but it struck me in that moment that she was a truly beautiful woman.

I put my mind back into the moment and gently squeezed the shutter release; the strobes popped and started to whine as the re-charge phase kicked in.

“You want me to hold this?”

She was looking back over her shoulder, smiling; I could not remotely understand how she held the pose in the first place, let alone throw me a look without losing her position.

“Yeah, just for one more and then we’ll step it up a notch. These heavy contrast spotlight shots are great for the book, but we’re neither of us going to make any money on them, you know?”

She winked;

“Don’t worry, mate. Knees so wide you’d get a car between. I just need to go smoke a fag first.”

I laid the remote down on the camera and fixed her gaze;

“You know that I’m looking for something less brash than that, yeah?”

Her face softened and the smile came back;

“Don’t worry, I know. Relax.”

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Yet again I forgot to do the Wednesday Poll; apologies to all... Anyway, I offer this as an alternative.

365 Ficlets - #151 ~ "Camera"

It felt cold in his hands as he picked it up and turned it over and over. Leaning back into the soft leather back of the chair he traced the tip of his finger over the magic word that he had been told by his father since childhood was synonymous with the word camera; Leica. Since growing up, finally, and leaving home, the petty jealousies that a boy holds for his father’s posessions had passed. Even so, sitting there he could clearly remember the teenage frustration he had felt at being denied the chance to even borrow it. Now it was sitting in his grasp; unhappily.

When his mother called, he had known. Dad had been slipping away for weeks. Now, thinking of that slow wane into the darkness, absently fiddling with his M7, James realised that his cheeks were wet with silent tears. After thirty-eight years of life, the only connection that he felt to his dead father was a long-past coveting of a favourite camera. There was nothing more sad, to him, than that realisation. That and the absence of time to change it.

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365 Ficlets - #151 ~ "Camera"

It felt cold in his hands as he picked it up and turned it over and over. Leaning back into the soft leather back of the chair he traced the tip of his finger over the magic word that he had been told by his father since childhood was synonymous with the word camera; Leica. Since growing up, finally, and leaving home, the petty jealousies that a boy holds for his father’s posessions had passed. Even so, sitting there he could clearly remember the teenage frustration he had felt at being denied the chance to even borrow it. Now it was sitting in his grasp; unhappily.

When his mother called, he had known. Dad had been slipping away for weeks. Now, thinking of that slow wane into the darkness, absently fiddling with his M7, James realised that his cheeks were wet with silent tears. After thirty-eight years of life, the only connection that he felt to his dead father was a long-past coveting of a favourite camera. There was nothing more sad, to him, than that realisation. That and the absence of time to change it.

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365 Ficlets - #150 ~ "Border Crossings"

“Eli, come away from the windows, it’s dangerous!”

He snorted, as he always did when she told him what to do. With grudging slowness he let the curtain fall and stepped away from the window.

“You know Molly, we are hundreds of miles from the Golan. I really don’t think that they would be lying to us on the television. There would be instructions to head for shelters if we were in any immediate danger, you know?”

She smiled at him, amused and relieved by his certainty;

“Then come and sit at the table. You should eat.”

He glanced down at the table, there was enough food for when all four of their children had still been living at home, but he was in no mood to have a fight about that; their two boys were up in the Golan with Syrians streaming over the border. He had been looking out of the window, trying to imagine what it was like for his boys crouching in the darkness, clutching their rifles, cowering from the shelling and watching for other people’s sons coming across a line on a map. There was no way to imagine.

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This Ficlet was inspired by the front page of Wikipedia for the 6th of October 2008, in English. The Article was from the "On This Day..." section from the 6th of October 2008 and concerned The Yom Kippur War, which began on the 6th of October 1973; you can find out more here.

365 Ficlets - #149 ~ "Naked in the Night"

The cold stone flags felt good under his feet after the heat of the day. Having grown up in the Great Forests of the north he would never enjoy the heat of the Salt Pan. He padded over to the open doorway and leant against it; more cold stone to soothe his naked skin.

The heat really did preclude clothes, but a mixture of the strength of the sun and the potential dismay of visitors meant that in public, at least, the inhabitants of Erestella covered their bodies. Once they were able to hide from the sun, or enjoy the darkness, most locals would spend their time unclothed. It had taken him a while to become comfortable with this norm; now he was glad that no one cared about his nakedness.

Serena stirred on the bed, behind him. He wondered if she would appreciate being woken, if she would see his amorous intentions as displacement for his insomnia, as a distraction from the day to come and the problems he needed to face. They were, but they were no less real or urgent because of that truth; he just wanted her.

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365 Ficlets - #148 ~ "Walking Home"

James pulled the edges of the hood tighter around his face and wished that he had listened to the little voice in the back of his mind that was humming ‘wear a coat… wear a coat…’ when he left the house that morning. It was the first real rain of the autumn, and the hoodie that he was wearing provided almost no protection from it for the first five minutes after he left the office, let alone now thirty minutes out, trudging along the Wokingham Road towards home.

Susan was already at home, her text message short but certainly sweet;

‘Am home, need cuddle. Love you, S x’

As he took step after step through the standing water from which there appeared to be no escape, his feet becoming more and more drenched in shoes completely unsuited to rainy weather, he focused on the idea that very soon he would be in his warm, dry home with his arms around her, and the weekend stretched ahead as a partial cure to the week he had just endured.

Sales was never where he had been supposed to end up; selling copiers was the worst.

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365 Ficlets - #147 ~ "Question Time"

“The sun is coming up”

He snapped back into the moment, from his reverie, and looked into her eyes. He reached up and brushed the hair away from her eyes and fell deeper into them, trying to to reach her without speaking.

“What is it, David?”

He smiled;

“Nothing, Cara. Well nothing bad anyway. I was just thinking about how much I love you, and how happy it makes me to be awake all night with you. My mind was wandering when you spoke; I was wondering if you would marry me.

Her face fell just a little and his heart sank. She had not said a word and already he was wishing he could do the previous fifteen seconds over again. They had been seeing each other for well over a year, living together for eight months; they were happy, or so he thought. It was not as though he was even asking her because he thought it was what she wanted. No, this was something that he wanted and now, seeing her reaction, he was starting to think that his first guess might be wrong; she did not want to marry him.

“David, I - I don’t know how.”

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365 Ficlets - #146 ~ "Longing"

Elena closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to calm her beating heart, to slow and deepen her breathing, and prepare herself. She anchored her thoughts onto the soft babbling of the stream as it flowed into the silvery pool, and brought the first few bars of the tune up to the front of her mind as she raised the pipe to her mouth. She began to play, and she quickly lost any sense of time as the music flowed through her and out into the woods lifting her mood and her hopes.

Across the clearing, not trying to hide but also not trying to be seen, Luca watched. He was hunting when he first found her practicing out in the woods. He wondered why such a clearly talented young woman would wander over a mile into the woods in order to practice her music in the relative cold and potential danger of being alone and some distance from safety. That was not all he was fascinated by of course; she was the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen outside the palace. He longed to speak to her, but did not know how.

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365 Ficlets - #145 ~ "Nightmare Scenario"

“I don’t mean to sound confrontational, but I have been pushed into this room and told nothing for five hours, and while I could have left I came here at the urging of the mayor’s spokesperson; why did I do that if there is no information to be had here?”

The young aide blinked as if to clear his eyes from this barrage, looked down at his clipboard;

“Er, I’m sorry but I’ve got nothing new for you yet, but the Press Secretary has let me know that he will be with you in no more than ten minutes,”

he softened a little,

“I know that you are frightened, and confused, and I am so sorry that this has taken so long.”

The angry man sat down again, muttering under his breath and shaking his head.

It all happened so fast. We had all been waiting for our kids to come back from the summer school trip and then the deputy head was on the school steps with a very worried look on her face asking us to assemble at the mayor’s office. Have you ever found yourself somewhere else and not known how it happened? That’s what it felt like.

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I forgot to run the Wednesday Poll and so I offer this instead.