Idlebones

Escape Part 2

Nothing ever happens in Lincoln.

It’s one of those sleepy old towns where teenagers hang about in tracksuits outside the chippy on cold winter nights. Wind whips up the long incline to the high street, tossing litter in irregular little circular orbits as it goes. Trees bend in lazy arcs as the rain appears to come from everywhere, a mist of swirling droplets, spining and curving against each other like flocks of tiny birds gathering for their winter retreat. Careless passengers rising and falling on the wind. On such a night as it had begun, the streets gleamed with a surface of shimmering water, as if the ground itself was on the move. Read the rest of this entry »

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Learning to swim

 

 

 

Dogs love water!” dog was panting excitedly. His long pink tongue lolled lazily from his wet mouth, dribbles of saliva dripped into the edge of the water.

Duck looked at him, sashaying herself in small semicircular sweeps in the cool river water. She smirked, and spun herself in a tight circle, displaying her bright yellow backside to dog, holding her head in an aloof manner.

“That may be. But they swim with no elegance. No Finesse. All splashes and pants” She said in a condescending tone, as she kicked her legs and ferry-glided herself elegantly across a small current at the
waters edge.

Dog cocked and ear. He had no idea what ‘elegance’ meant. Or ‘fineness’. He thought they must be friends of duck.

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Sophie & Paddy. Chapter 3 (updated)

 

 

 

Sophie turned to lift her furry companion onto the window ledge where he
sat with his back to the pane, looking over his shoulder to where
Sophie was now pointing, her finger pushed against the glass. 

“Look, over there by the flower bed” she whispered

Paddy strained his eyes in the direction Sophie’s’ finger was pointing

“I can’t see..” Paddy began, just as a light flickered to life to
reveal the basket once more, and a short soldier in a red tunic and
wide brimmed hat standing with his arm outstretched holding the
lantern he had just lit. He was kicking the basket and muttering
something under his breath, just as Paddy, losing his balance in
surprise, made a grab for the curtain to arrest his fall, bringing it
down with a popping sound as the curtains ties snapped. He tumbled to
the floor as the curtain fell about Sophie’s’ head like a shawl.

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Escape. 1.

 

I don’t remember why I went with him, but here we were, tearing down
the empty high street at 4 in the morning, our satchels swinging
behind our sweat drenched backs with the sound of the police sirens
wailing from a side street somewhere behind us. A hurried glance taken
over my shoulder told me they were coming up Park Street, the rain
soaked walls reflecting blue swathes of light as they approached the
intersection.

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Next Door. Part 4

Jessie is here again, the back of her blonde head facing my admiring gaze. She sits, crossed legged, reading the paper, gingerly tipping her ciggarette ash into the small ceramic ashtray I’ve placed before her. I’ve tipped her hair, and kissed her brow, and returned to the hob as I make scrambled eggs for her. She breathes out soft tendrils of smoke as she turns a page. I watch her, wanting to hold her, as I always do these mornings. I watch as her slim shin rocks against the calf of her other leg. A flat thin Pump, tiny, I could hold it’s volume in my hand, beating to the rythym of some song that’s singing, silently, in her head. I stand here most mornings, watching her slender frame relax into our kitchen table. She sometimes releases her hair from its pony tail, letting it unfold and spread, sweeping delicate fingers over her smooth shoulders. I am sometimes jealous, ridiculous as it may seem, of her hair.

I sit before her, placing a plate of scrambled egg on hot buttered toast before her, and watch her eat. She is delicate, even in her tired state. Not even one buttered crumb remains on her lips as she idly places the fork to her mouth, over and over again, until she has eaten her fill. Her breakfast finished, she smiles at me, placing her finished fork neatly on the plate. “Thank you sweetie” she says, before rising. She leans in to me, slowly, as if she wants to savour the moment, and presses her lips to my forehead.

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