Life

Short Tales from the Book of Me

“Huh?” I said, mouth agape.

“Oh, didn’t you know?” said Conscience. “You’ve got buckets of work to do.”

There was a pause.

“And you’re reading.”

Pizza. In Italy. In the mountains. In an Irish bar. The house special. As big as a cart-wheel. Delicious. More than delicious. Amazing. Nothing will beat it. An explosion of gentle taste.

Night time. Writing. Finishing the last sentence of a story. Tired. Rolling into bed.

Airports = queuing. Queues that stretch on and on. Walking forwards, standing still. Eavesdropping. Attempting not to be seen eavesdropping.

Airplanes = snoring. Behind me. Withholding giggles. Fighting back the smile that creeps across my face.

Gasp. A dramatic, movie-type of one – a spider in the kitchen sink. A big one. Several rapid steps backwards.

Rain. Hitting the window pane. Wishing to simply sit and watch.

Singing. He loves me. He cares for me. He will always be with me.

Peace.

… and life goes on

Advertisements

Thoughts? Opinions? Kittens? Pop 'em below and let's chat ...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s