Transport

Outbound again

It begins

The slow lurch of movement

Pulling away from you

 

For a time I can still feel

The ghost of your lips

linger

On mine

The caress of fingertips

Echoes through my hair

Roots damp with sweat

The remainder of memories

Left with me

Within me

 

The scent of you

 

Breathing deeply it is all I can do

To revive the memory of you

Hands clenched around me

Skin soaked under your heat

Forcing a smile to my lips

 

As I sit absorbing the dull vibrations

Closing my eyes to blurred landscape

Shutting out the rumble of the carriage

Cursing that which takes me away from you

WIP – First Class Overspill

They sit and snigger
Like infants on a fair ride
Clasping greasy brown bags
In their manicured hands
The smell of fat and fries
Wafting down the public car
Following the notes of their laughter
Filling the quiet zone
They should know better
These adults dressed up as men
With Gucci suits
And polished leather shoes
When standing
They wobble
And sway
Until one of them topples
Creating a burst of taunting

This was a part of something I wrote during an uncomfortable train journey, – Still some more to work on though

Darkside Thursday – Flash fiction

I think of him sometimes, late at night when the world falls silent.

The day he turned up in his new yellow soft top sporting a leather jacket, and the after effects of just for men. His grin stretched from ear to ear as he informed me of his lottery win, and sudden acknowledgement of our ‘relationship issues’.

I’m sure you thought that young Stacey would help you work those through…

You got your fame though, when they pulled your car from the riverbed, they said you should have paid a mechanic to check the new car, that the brakes had failed, they were sorry.

I was sorry too.

Sorry that I didn’t heed your brother’s warnings sooner.

Still the money will come in handy as we take the around the world trip in your memory.

And you are still in my memory, I do think of you sometimes.

The car etched in memory, like a canary, being pulled underwater bobbing for a second and taking its last frantic gasp of air.

The smell of brake fluid still lingers.

My contribution for Darkside Thursday

Before the pedal hits the metal

 

He sits
In the chill morning air
Watching the world awaken
The trees outside hold firm
No breeze to stir them
It’s the stillness he adores
The way that life unfolds
Just for him

He sits
Enjoying that moment
Allowing himself to breathe
Before the rest wake up
The pleasant lull, waiting
Intoxicating, it’s his
That moment everyday
Just for him

He sits
Knowing this will soon end
The solitude and peace
Will be stripped from his mind
Replaced by work, but first
He turns the key and smiles
His D16 purrs her song
Just for him