Let the mermaids in my teacup distract us for a while

The Last Goodbye

“There she is again…. Every day, same time. Like clockwork.”
“Oh my God, this is difficult to watch….. Why does she torture herself like this?”

Adrienne feels this spotlight on her every day at lunch time, while she is hurrying between the sun-bronzed surfers. Every day she is aware that it can’t go on forever. Every day she is reminded that she will have to, one day, stop coming here for him and move on. And every day she is blinded by how unprepared she is for that day.

Well, today, that is what she is here to do. Today is the day.

Her pace slows when she spots him, waiting for her in the usual place, searching each face for hers. He takes a slow, deep breath when he sees that she has been crying and he begins to move towards her.

“Please…” she starts, bravely, causing him to pause. “ I…. I need to say this. Just…. Please, let me…” the words are choked off with an involuntary sob which she tries to control.

He waits quietly, and keeps watching her. He already knows what she has come here to say. He knows that this is going to hurt. He also knows how long it has taken her to reach this point. He remains respectful, he doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t look away.

She finally looks at him again, still exhaling shakily. Despite her improved composure, her tears don’t stop. She takes in every detail of his face and feels her heart breaking for the thousandth time.

“Today is the last day. I won’t be back tomorrow. I WON’T… I can’t do this to myself forever. This time with you is the only part of my day that I actually experience. There is nothing else. It’s gone on for too long. I disappear anywhere else, everywhere else. I convinced myself that it would get easier with time but I die a little more every time we meet here. Believe me, it has been worth every ounce of my sanity. This is not easy.”

She stops speaking for a moment and turns towards the ocean, grabbing the rail tightly with both hands. He moves closer and stands so close that she can almost feel him, and she feels that unmistakeable safety of his presence. It tears her apart.

“I have come here over and over again to say goodbye to you for ‘the last time’, but each time I can barely manage to walk away from you. It’s like walking away from my own soul. In a weird way I never really leave this place at all, because I am too scared to face the reality of a life without you. The thought still terrifies me. We were supposed to do this together, god damn you! YOU said that! You PROMISED that you would always be there and I believed you! And look at me now…. Look…. I have to escape from the remnants of my broken life just to share a moment here with you when I can get one. I can’t anymore….. I have to let you go. Don’t wait here for me anymore after today…. If you do I won’t ever stop coming. And I NEED to stop …… I must. The truth is that you left, and I don’t blame you for that, it wasn’t your fault…. It…”

She closes her eyes as she feels him wrapping his arms around her. She knows this is the last time, and she lets herself savour it. He warms her aching soul with his embrace, her weary heart is home again for a fleeting moment. “Shhhhhh…..” he manages, and silently protects her from the rest of the world for the last time.

She feels him release her gently and move away. She doesn’t turn around until he is gone. She turns and searches the passers-by for his face. The realisation that he is really gone numbs her, and the voices around her become clearer once again.

“It is her, check…. Same time as yesterday….. Damn…..”
“Wasn’t her fiancée that lifeguard? About a year back”
“Who is she talking to? Her mouth is moving…..”
“….. he saved that kid from drowning…. Never made it back to shore with the second child….. Such a tragedy”
“She just stands there every day, talking to herself…. Then goes back to work….”

She spots him not too far away, he is still watching her intently, his eyes full of warmth and love. She watches him back until he fades away. She smiles gently and breathes in for what feels like the first time ever. The warmth of his embrace doesn’t evaporate as she begins to walk back in the direction she came for the last time.

“I will be back someday when we have all the time in the world. This was only the last goodbye.”


The Anchor

Whistling winds echo towards you from every, and no direction
Enhancing your isolating abyss of desert sand and heat
Disrupted only by the clanking of the chains, the infliction
Shackled around your neck, and dragging at your feet.

With each mile you gain, it sinks deeper,
Growing heavier in your wake
The way forward, you know, holds many more miles
Which seem to multiply, each step you take.

There is no map you are following, or promised reward at the end
Only this direction you have chosen, and from it you will not bend

You slow to a complete halt, taking in a laboured breath,
And with courage, you turn to face what you were dragging
Something you have not done yet

Dropping to your knees, you begin to pull at the chains
One arm’s length after the next
Armed with only the self-belief that remains,
Your struggle ends now. Now, you soul finds rest.

As it is drawn, the chains’ hue fades, becoming less opaque
They become easier and easier to pull from the sand,
Freeing an anchor of clear crystal, delicate enough to break,
Weightless, it shatters in your hand.

Rid yourself of this burden, you do not need it,
Go now, in any direction you choose,
Your mind is no prisoner, you have freed it,
Its only by doubting yourself, that you can lose.





Signs Of Life

It was only when the shapes began to form on the horizon that she understood why she had been moving in this direction for as long as she had. The water’s surface began to breathe lazily beneath her feet, as if waking in the light of the new day.

At first the shapes teased her sight with flickers of light, like twinkling fragments in the distance, catching her eye in the rising sun’s rays. But the closer she drew, and the brighter the new day became, the more flickers appeared, multiplying before her and merging into visible shapes she could almost identify….. Almost….. She kept moving forward, her gaze fixed on her destination, her body warming with the golden haze intensifying around her.

After a few more paces, she stopped walking, staring ahead at the picture that had just slowly painted itself before her. The mystery of what she was seeing began to rise with the breeze and whisper around her in the cool morning air.

But… how? How had they gotten here? It wasn’t possible…. But then, what was IMPOSSIBLE out here?

Rooftops…. About thirty different, perfectly detailed rooftops. Protruding over the water’s surface. Standing strong and proud, though misplaced in the centre of the ocean.

Her curiosity evolved quickly into a wild sense of adventure, a thirst to find answers. She grinned with determination and began to race forward over the ripples to meet them.


She moves so gently over the water that it barely ripples beneath her feet. She makes no sound.

Lowering herself to sit on the surface, she bends her knees and presses her feet into the depths. She lazily swishes them back and forth, feeling the warm water move around them, between her toes, beneath her fingertips as they trace the surface softly. She takes in every detail of her surroundings.

The ocean continues endlessly, whichever way she looks. Strokes of golden purple hues are cast across the net of clouds above her by the setting sun to her left. It warms the side of her face and body gloriously.

The air around her is electric. It dances in tiny, nonsensical patterns and whispers a thousand sweet truths against her exposed skin, creating a charge she feels revived by. She cannot remember the last time she breathed with such ease. Each inhalation infuses her, the turmoil within steadily dilutes and eventually shrinks away – replaced with a clear, untainted energy. Awakened, she becomes more and more aware of the sensations in her body, the rhythmic beating of her own heart within her chest, the movement of her own energy occupying every space beneath her skin. She feels alive again, resuscitated after the heaviest of conscious slumbers. Her connection to her own existence renewed.

There is a silent purity here that she is now both filled with and overwhelmed by. It is here that her undying spirit ignites. It is here that she finds herself again.



A Moment About A Force

(For N, on our anniversary)

I’ve been gravitating towards you,

Since before I even knew you were there,

You were the silent hope I clung to,

The anticipated shift in the air.


By the sheer energy of your magnetism,

My soul shifted back into line,

Your arrival and ongoing presence

Breathe life into this heart of mine.


You are the axis of my existence,

The centre of gravity around which I move,

And my love will surround you, always,

Until the day you no longer approve.

“Mirror, Mirror….”

One of the hardest moments in a person’s life is the one where they come face-to-face with themselves. This moment is as inevitable as it is surprising.

It’s like training, your entire life, to compete as a heavyweight boxer, with determination and sacrifice – only to find that the title fight you end up in is against a deadly martial arts expert. That confidence that you have built up, that absolute certainty in your ability to face any opponent, is stripped from your core as you realise that despite all that preparation, this is a fight you will lose.

This is not normally something that can be avoided, nor can it really be prepared for. You choose at the very beginning what you train yourself to become. You roll with the punches, and you anticipate the challenges. You don’t realise until the moment of truth that you were so absorbed in becoming what you were, that you didn’t even stop to consider everything that you weren’t. That blinding reality delivers the knock-out. And boy, does it ever knock you the fuck out.

We all face that opponent at some point. And it is true – our most vicious opponent in life, will undoubtedly be ourselves. This match does not kill you. It does not cripple you to the point where you can never raise your dukes again.

It does, however, cause you to ask yourself some extremely honest, personal questions and force you to open your eyes to your own flaws and weaknesses.

As merciless as this experience is, it is not the time to throw in the towel. It’s the time to activate strength you were not sure you had left in you and get back to the basics. Take these realisations, and use them to start your training again.

You can never stop getting back in the ring. No matter how many times you may need to repeat this, evolve  — it is only when you stop fighting that you truly lose.



My Devotion Waits…

He sat up straight as the bedroom light came on and she walked in.

“Hello baby,” he whispered, “did you have a good day?”

She didn’t even look up. Walking across the room to her dresser, she flung her handbag and coat onto the bed and gave a long sigh. Her shoulders drooped even further as she sat down after what one could have guessed was the day from hell. He could see it all over her face as he examined her in the mirror.

“I guess that answers that question. Don’t worry about it, honey, bad days happen. Whatever it was, leave it at the door. You’re home now. Why don’t you go soak in a nice bubble bath and then come tell me all about it? I can wait.”

She kept staring at her reflection silently. It was as if nothing he said had registered. Before he got the chance to say anything else she got up and walked into the en-suite. He could hear the water go on, and he smiled softly.

Even on her worst days he loved her. All he had to do was watch her handle life’s ups and downs to be amazed by her over and over again.

The water stopped.

He kept his eyes on the mirror where, through a small gap in the bathroom doorway, he could see her peeling off her clothes and pinning her hair up. “Patience, Hank. She needs to unwind. Give her all the time she needs.”

He felt around in his pockets for the packet of Whispers he had bought earlier and forgotten about in his rush to get here on time. Opening them as quietly as he could, he didn’t break his gaze. He could see the soft light caressing her neck and shoulders while she tilted her head against the back of the tub.

He waited.

He lived for the moments when he could be around her.

She finally emerged from the bathroom, watching the ground as she tied her robe on. The relaxation still slowly conquering her face. “Thaaaat’s better.” He smiled to himself, popping another Whisper into his mouth. The movement caught the corner of her eye, causing her to turn and for the first time look directly at him. The suddenness in her turn caused the sweet to lodge in his throat.

Both of them stared at one another for a startled, stunned moment before he began to choke.

He stumbled backwards as she ran towards him, a look of pure panic freezing her face. “Oh my god!” she screamed as the gravity of the moment washed over her. He opened his mouth, gasping for air, as he raised his hands, reaching for her. By this time she was scrambling through her bag for her phone. As she brought it up to her ear she ran back to him, tears streaming down her face. She was shaking so violently by now that it was a wonder she could still hold it properly.

“H-Hello?!” She cried, “My name is Christine Hamstead, I live at 564 Crescent Lane. There is a man outside my window. Please come quickly. I…. I think he is choking to death in my garden!!”





The Hotel Room

Something about the way her gaze changed made him stop speaking mid-sentence. The only indication she gave of noticing was the slow lift of the left corner of her perfect lips. The energy between them shifted, it became electric.

With her eyes still locked on his, she sat up straight and slowly pulled her cardigan off, revealing one delicate, beautifully bronzed shoulder at a time.

He allowed his eyes to move from hers as they traced a slow meandering trail downwards – drinking in every detail she exposed to him. Her parted lips, her defined jawline, long slender neck, beautifully present collarbones.

He was mesmerized. All he could do was watch breathlessly.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Locking his eyes on hers again he swallowed hard and licked his lips. As he opened his mouth to speak he was surprised that what he had to say came out in a barely audible whisper, “Get on your knees.”

She tilted her head and bit playfully on her lip, as if contemplating her next move.

In a fluid movement, she brought her long legs around to her side; barely revealing anything beneath her skin-tight skirt, save for the tiny clips holding up her sheer pantihose. She rearranged herself onto her knees, facing him.

Relaxing her head backward, she gave him full view of that gorgeous neck again for a brief moment as she scooped her long hair together and brought it down to rest over one shoulder. “Be descriptive,” she purred, “As though my body were a marionette, and the only strings you controlled were your words.”


Videotaped in front of a Live Studio Audience

Do you ever feel as though you are living your life on an imaginary stage? Like there is some unseen audience waiting in anticipation to see how you are going to react to a situation that has been carefully planned out?

Now, don’t panic!! Those of you who know me personally know that I am not religious, so I am not taking this down THAT route. Fret not, brethren.

Sometimes there are scenarios that are just tooooo perfectly timed. I, personally, live for those moments.

I was sitting at my desk the other day, and the most APPALLING radio station was selected by my colleague. As a terrible throng of music came wailing out of the radio, including Cher (Believe) – Greg sticks his head out of his office and shouts — “What!? Is it the Lesbian Power Half Hour out there today?”

And, as if to confirm his statement, “I’m Every Woman” starts playing.



A brief silence pursued, followed by outrageous laughter.

As I said… tooooo perfect! Here’s wishing you all as many of these moments as you can handle.

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