Category Archives: novelette

Proximity

Come down and hug me.

She had missed his message, therefore hurried back towards the hall; the crowd was filtering out in the opposite direction.

As she entered the place, she saw him in the centre of the room, and she stopped a while at the entrance to watch him. The way he talked and laughed with the journalists, the charmer he was for the cameras. He was always meant to be there.

I’m so proud of you.

She was happy to be there, just watching him from the side, smiling to see him the way he was.

A proximity that was near enough, and they could never be closer.

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Destiny At The Door

How oft could two prompts in one prose fit, and
How oft would two halves in one lifetime meet?

There he stood in his suit, its sheen subtly accentuating the contours of his body beneath it. The corners of his lips curved into a smile as his eyes met mine.

“You’re here.”

“Sorry I took a while; had to settle the guys first.”

“They’re on their way home?”

“Yeah.”

He took a step towards me and I caught the scent of him – a strong mingle of the fragrance he wore and that distinct maleness that was him. The surreality of being this close to him again was swiftly overtaken by the reality of it.

Just a breath away.

Sidling past me through the doorway, he entered the room as I closed the door behind us. Turning around, I looked up to see him regarding me in a relaxed yet intense gaze. I smiled and walked towards him. In the instance I took him into my arms, I felt his around me, and for what seemed like an eternity afterwards, I was contented to remain where I was, a comforting warmth flooding my whole being.

“I’m so proud of you tonight. And I’m so glad I’m actually here to see it.”

“I’m glad you are here too.”

Pulling myself away slightly, I looked into his eyes meaningfully.

“So now we’re here.”

“Uh huh.”

“There’s nowhere else I could be.”

“Me neither.”

“Except, perhaps…”

My gaze dropped to where my fingers were playfully teasing his blazer button. Biting my lip in a grin, I glanced back up. He was watching me. Then, he reached out and gently fingered the topmost clasp of the string of three that held my blouse together. He gazed intently at it, as though examining it in detail.

“How does this work?”

“This is the traditional way of wearing the blouse, held together with this chain of brooches.”

“Ah, I see.”

Still fingering the brooch, he proceeded to depress the surface with his thumb as his finger slid the slender pin behind aside. Pulling it gently away from the folds it held together, he brought it down slowly then released it, letting it hang precariously from its chain as I gasped, feeling a sudden loosening at my neckline.

“So that’s how it works.”

I blushed as he drew closer; I could feel his breath on my lips and his hand low on my back, pulling me in towards him.

“That it is.”

In that moment, time seemed to have stilled and us rendered motionless, except for my quickened breathing and pounding heart. I could feel his lowered gaze on me, and I hung, half fearful, half yearning, on it.

And then, our souls ignited.

The room was spinning euphorically in a slow-motion whirlwind and I felt his arms urgently drawing me into him as I wrapped mine around his neck. His lips were pressed against mine and I could taste the soft moistness of his tongue in my mouth. He was fire, and so was I.

He began flowing into me, and as he did a warmth oozed from my very centre and flowed into my veins and across my body; it permeated every inch of my skin and my pores; it washed over my senses, what I feel and taste, hear and see, and I realised that I too was flowing into him.

The reunion of soul halves, the one I never knew I was searching for.

I was completed, perfected, washed ablaze. I was home.

And now that I know of your existence, I could never leave you alone.

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Never Goodbye

Like any afternoon we would meet, I was in his room. He was draped in his chair across from me, a relaxed look on his face as I twirled a pen between my fingers.

“So… what was your very first impression of me?”

“Well… I thought you were so proper and good.”

“Really? Wow.”

He smiled, a little smug. I smiled back, then continued.

“But when I got to know you better, it all changed…”

My turn to grin as he looked slightly annoyed.

“…I found that you had your own wacky perspective of looking at things, were witty and best of all, you could catch my puns. I love that. I like when someone can go deep with me.”

Looking visibly pleased, he grinned back as me. Then, a thought crossed his mind.

“Remember when you got angry and almost walked out on me? I was so worried you would.”

“Ah yeah…” I furrowed my brows as I remembered. “…but you know I’d never do that.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

I took a breath.

“Out of all of them, you are the best.”

He looked at me, the slightest hint of sadness in his eyes.

“I guess this is the last time we’re gonna be here like this.”

“Yeah well… you gotta go.”

I felt a twinge in my heart.

“But hey, this is never really goodbye. I can always go meet you there, get a coffee or something. And there’s always Skype.”

He brightened up a little.

“Yeah, I guess that’s another way to look at it.”

I gave him a wink.

“So I’ll see you again.”

“Yeah, we’ll do just that.”

I had to smile. “Soon.”

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La Più Alta Poesia

There he was at the table, seated in a cane chair and casual grey pants, shirt casually unbuttoned and a glass of wine in his hand. Sultry was the afternoon except for an occasional summer breeze – a welcoming reprieve. As the town bustle and chatter filled the air, he turned his wrist and glanced down from behind his shades.

“Sorry I’m late!”

He looked up to see her walking briskly towards him, a smile on her face. He set his glass down, and as she arrived at his table, got up and removed his shades, a smile on his lips.

“Yes, you are.”

She grinned as they both settled into their seats and the waiter came with a menu.

“I’ll have what he’s having, thanks.”

He looked at her half-amusedly as she gave a little sigh and eased into her chair, putting her hair to one side as she did. Then, she turned to him with a twinkle in her eye.

“Well I kept my promise. Happy birthday!”

“Haha, yes you did.”

He took a sip from his glass, his eyes not leaving her face. She reached for her glass with a wicked smile.

“Amici e vino sono meglio vecchi.”

“Ha! Are you saying I’m old?”

“I’m saying we get better with age.”

“Indeed. Speaking of which…”

He caught the scent of her perfume as he leaned towards her. She watched him as he did, until he was just a breath away.

“…I’m better at writing now.”

“Are you.”

In that moment, a breath of wine, his fingers on her chin; a flick of her eyes, then the taste of his lips.

Il bacio è la più alta poesia dell’amore.

The greatest poem indeed.

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Shelter

Amidst the bustle of activity, something seemed to change, so quickly yet subtly. In place, there was an air of careful caution.

Dusk had fallen.

As you led the way trailing some others ahead, we laid our steps carefully enough to not wake the bodies sleeping on the ground. My eyes fell upon your back – you were broader and stronger than I remembered you to be. Falling around your shoulders, locks of hair glistened where it caught the light.

Deviating from them disappearing straight ahead, you turned right and I followed. We were met by a steep flight of wooden stairs leading down to an open doorway. A sharp draft gusted as we went down – it was a cold morning. Nearing the bottom of the staircase, I caught sight of a German shepherd, standing guard at the exit. Instinctively, I stretched out my hand and petted it, then you did too and it became friendly and did not bark. We got past it and were on our way.

“You’re not worried at all, are you?”

All I remembered was I was not afraid because it was a place I knew. You took my hand – it was an unsafe situation – then we went up a narrow flight of stairs, much like those one could see flanking a traditional Chinese performing stage.

Seeking shelter, we found ourselves at the entrance to a motel.

A man sat nonchalantly at the doorway which opened up to a troupe of Vietnamese ladies; they were rehearsing for their performance, dancing with strips of silk cloth. It was dinghy but clean.

You walked in to enquire of a lady perched at the counter if there were rooms; she replied in the negative. Turning around, you made your way pass the dancing ladies towards me. Arriving back by my side, you faced me looking weary, then gave me a gentle smile of apology. As we were about to leave, one of the ladies asked us where we were going, and where you were from.

As though in reply, you drew me into your arms and held me quietly. As I lay with my right cheek against your chest, an overwhelming comforting sense of safety flowed from my centre throughout my whole being, and I knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

One of the ladies commented that you were a foreigner and another told her she had to remember your face if you were going to be working with them. Turning to us, she asked what you were teaching, in a language I understood but which you did not. I turned to you and translated what she said, but all you did was to gaze at me without a word, still that gentle smile on your face.

And in that long wait for your reply, time seemed to have stood still, before it all faded…

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The Inquisition

“How deep does it go?”

“Deep as possibly imaginable
So deep it might hit
A very sensitive spot
In your soul.”

“Teach me how to strum it.”

“I would first let you hold it, and
Feel its thickness; then
I would pleasure you, starting slowly
Building up more and harder, using
My instrument.”

“Show me.”

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The Proposition

“Come live with me;
I wanna show you my basement.”

“That’s dangerous.
We could become so consumed with all there is.”

“Yes we would.
One might lose one’s mind.”

“I am ready.”

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