Tag Archives: short story

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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Bus Stop

The bus lurched to a halt and the flaps retracted.

Instinctively, she glanced up, only to be met by a stranger’s eyes. For a moment, they held each other; his mouth curved up into a slight smile and she reciprocated.

In that moment, a meeting, an acquaintance, a brief connection if you must, yet a moment that prompted neither to move. He broke away and she did too.

As the doors clamped back into position, he returned gaze in farewell and she allowed it to be so, a faint smile on her lips as the vehicle pulled her away.


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Over A Morning Latte

I was clearing out my drafts when I found this one that was started sometime ago (last draft was dated September 10, 2014 20:16!). This seems the best way to conclude it, because though this chapter has been closed, the story never actually ends. 😉

This morning, I was at my usual cafe, picking up my regular coffee. When I pushed open the door, who should I see but him, sipping a latte and reading the papers. He looked up as I entered and smiled.

“Hey there, so how’s things been?”

“You should know better than I,” I half grumbled, sitting down in front of him.

“Ah. That sudden interruption to your daily routine you mean? It must seem quite a distraction and so unsuspecting,” he smiled again, taking another sip.

“Distraction? It turned my life upside down! It confused and distorted! It threw me off balance! It was total destruction! And I’m not out of it yet…” I muttered.

“Now, now. It’s not that bad. Think of it as, well, a sort of training. You know how we practise to better our techniques, or beat our high scores.”

“Training? For what?” I was suddenly curious.

Annoyingly, he decided on that moment to take an eternal sip from his cuppa. When he finally placed it back on the table, he smiled.

“Well you’ll know soon enough, when the time is right.”

And his timing is always right.

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Consciousness & Love

I was musing on the theme of absence of love and this scene played out in my head. 🙂

Consciousness sat alone at the bar
A whisky drying in his hands
He glanced up at the door from which
Love walked out with dissent;
The doors swung open, in they walked
Deceit, Confusion and Pride
Espying a chance for tomfoolery
They advanced to commence the ride

Sat them down two and one aside
They drank and heard his sorrows
Then pried them open his empty heart
In which vessel they vilely poisoned;
‘Twas not long afore inebriation filled
The place with raucous laughter
Where Consciousness lay in half-stupor
With a heart contemptuously withered

But hark those footsteps soft and sure
They stopped at his side and waited
Trailed her hand down his flushed-browed face
As she leaned and gently whispered;
His eyes flicked open as her words tore down
The coldness that gripped his heart, as he
Stood up slowly and reached for her
And took her in his arms

For Love had only stepped away
When anger threatened to destroy
But she would never leave his side
Through joy and sorrows, day and night;
Take her, protect her and keep her close
That our lives may sustain our spirits
For Love is gentle and kind and true
And everlasting, an eternal haven.


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Dark Waters Deep

He waited at the bridge
For the answer she would give
But was rudely shoved, plunging
To dark waters deep

When he awoke he’d lost
His memories in part
So the girl he’d once loved
From his life thus depart

A new chapter unfolds
A new love and new life
Yet strange dreams haunted
Of the past he left behind

It brought him determined
To delve, at the bridge
But was rudely shoved, plunging
To dark waters deep.

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Just Another Afternoon

She opened her eyes, then remembered. Quickly she took a shower, then carefully picked out an outfit for that afternoon. It would be important to leave a good impression.

It wasn’t difficult to locate the apartment where he lives; the lady had given her both the address and directions impeccably. As she approached the building, her phone sounded a notification.

“He is waiting for you in his room.”

The lift doors opened, revealing a darkened hallway towards his apartment unit and a sense of tensed expectance. Stepping out, she silenced her phone knowingly; any disruption would not be tolerated, as it has always been with them.

The maid opened the door and eyed her suspiciously, then let her in and showed her to the door to his room. A tingly sensation crept into her stomach; she has done this so many times, yet nervousness always prevailed.

It’ll be over soon.

She held her breath, then knocked carefully before turning the doorknob.

And there he was.

At his desk, looking up at her the instance she saw him. He smiled. She returned the smile and walked to him. He rose from his seat as she approached.

“Shall we begin?”


It seemed so formal, yet what would always transpire afterwards required her to expend herself, for all that she knew, and all that she could do for him. For them. For a few hours. For sometimes, more.

As she got ready to leave, he informed her the money was in the envelope on the desk. She picked up the envelope and pulled open the crisp white triangle to count the notes inside. It was as agreed. He sent her out and walked her to the door, then gave her a slight smile as the door slid itself shut.

While she was walking away from the apartment block, another message resounded.

“How was it – did he like you?”

“Yeah… I suppose.”

“So you’ll be seeing him again?”

“Yeah. Saturday, and Sunday too.”

It was just another session, teaching another new student, on another afternoon.

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