A Not-So-Short Short Story: At The Eleventh Hour With The Giant

Sitting in this dark room on the sofa cross-legged, staring at the wall for the past 2 hours has given me time to really think about my life and what I have done with it this past year. My fingers have now come to the realisation that the mug they are holding onto has now gone cold. As I get up to put on the kettle, my fleecy blanket that was once casually strewn across my body falls to the floor, causing the icy air that saturates my apartment to collide with my once warm skin. I quickly snatch my blanket and throw it over me as a shield against the cold and hurry into the kitchen to refill mug with hot tea so that I and my fingers can stop shaking.

Resting on the kitchen counter, hearing the water slowly come to a boil reminds me of the time I went to York on business and ran into Sam at the local pub. Haha. She had changed so much! I couldn't quite believe my eyes when I turned around to see who it was that had tapped my shoulder. I excused myself from the company of my colleagues whom I am sure were glad to see me go as that was at the early stages of their little sordid affair. It was so awkward feeling that much sexual tension between them in that small space we called our own in that packed pub. I would be lying if I said that it did not make me yearn to have someone permanent in my life that just so happens to find me just as attractive as they found each other. Anyway, Sam invited me round to her's that night, which was a stone's throw away from the pub, and we spent the whole night in her kitchen sitting on her huge central kitchen counter with mugs full of hot chocolate with more than a hint of Bailey's reminiscing about our stint in boarding school and catching up on what we have been up to since.

I make myself my fresh cup of tea and slink back to my spot on the sofa, my blanket in tow. I laugh at the crazy things we got up to at that all girls school. The boys who were snuck in. The girls who were snuck out. The teacher's chair that was "kindly" given a fresh lick of paint just before he arrived so that when he sat down his trousers reflected the generosity of the painter. Those were the days! When it was my turn to answer the big question- 'So, what have you been up to missy? The last time I saw you was during our 2nd year of uni'- I fumbled and mumbled a few incoherent strings of phrases as my brain desperately tried to piece together what I had done since we left that was interesting enough to rival her stories. Seeing her face fall in what I took to be pity made my all too familiar tear glands spring into action and give their Oscar-worthy performance. 

It dawned on me that in the 6 years since I last saw her I have done nothing but work. When Sam was meeting the love of her life I was planning on how to throttle my partner because he was not pulling his weight and I could not afford to fail that year's project. When Sam was studying abroad in Germany I was crying over the fact that my boyfriend at the time chose Australia over me. I was a selfsih cow. Sue me. When Sam was volunteering in Kenya one summer I was struggling to figure out which company I wanted to work for as I had offers coming out of my ears which was both a blessing and a curse. When Sam was truly living life I was basically wasting mine behind a desk for 4 years punching numbers and giving presentations and falling into a pathetic cycle that made me feel so alone.

That fateful night was the night my life changed. Sam and I created my first ever bucket list. And with the help of her fit fella, the ridiculous number of holidays I had accrued at work and my rather large savings account they handed me my itinerary for the next 6 months. I was to embark on my very own Euro trip by myself. To which I said, 'Hell no!' and Sam, being the pretty well known travel journalist and travel junkie  that she is decided to accompany me for the 1st few trips to ease me into it. I finally came round and we did the cheesy clinking of our mugs and passed out in Sam's living room from all the excitement. 

That was the night my adventure began.

I down the last dregs of my tea and listen to the howls of the wind outside as it whips round the B&B I am in with great gusto causing the windows to rattle and the wind chimes outside to play a most violent tune. I make a mental note to thank my mother again for getting me the tartan microfleece pajamas I have on as they are amazingly great at aiding to keep my body temperature at a decent level. Today is the day I turn 27 and it also happens to be the last day of my 6 month adventure. Looking back at all I have achieved in this year alone threatens to set my Oscar nominated tear glands off for a grand finale. I can't quite believe I managed to juggle both work and a colourful social life. 

For the past 8 trips on, I have explored the various cities myself and I am super proud of that. Sam and I started off in France and work our way round Europe. It was amazing! Expensive... but amazing. I was then given the big task of finishing off my adventure by getting to know the UK. I can't say I am a big fan of the south as I'm a Northern girl through and through but I can see why people love it. I started my UK trip there and worked my way back up north. I am now currently in Scotland. Have been for 4 days now but it was only yesterday when I arrived in Edinburgh. It has been years since I have been here it is almost criminal. Scotland is such a lovely place despite the unbearably cold weather. 

I close my eyes and convince myself that I will look like an idiot if I go to The Peartree dressed in my pajamas with my hair tucked away in a hairnet. I bravely throw my blanket off me and rush into the bathroom to get ready. I hear a knock on my door not 10 mins later which startles me as I am not expecting anything to be brought to my room.

'Just hang on a second!' I yell. 'Won't be a minute!'

I yank on my unnaturally tight Dorothy Perkins jeans over my hideously fat arse and pull my Zara jumper over my head, shoving my arms through the wonderfully soft sleeves. Ruffling my hair a bit and swiping on a lit of lipgloss over my lips I open the door to find a giant in front of me. I let a rather indescribable noise out from my mouth as I watch it take steps towards me. I instinctively back away into my room as I try to process what is happening as quickly as I can.

'Sarah, ok I know what you must be thinking. Would you quit walking away from me? You'll head out the window if you back away any further', it says in a deep familiar voice. 

A voice that I was once so anxious to hear over the phone every night throughout my first two years at uni. A voice that quickly became the little voice in my head that steers me away from wrong and urges me to trust my gut. A voice that belonged to a man who won my heart with the wink of an eye, a flash of the sexiest grin I've ever seen and a night in eating homemade lasagna as we watched Lord of The Rings. A voice that was replaced by an unbearable silence and an ache in my heart since the day it joined its owner to fly half way across the world.

It is funny how one day you could be at in a pub in York going through the motions, catching the weighted looks your present company are throwing at each other and not really realising how much time you have wasted. And then boom! You are in a cute B&B up in Edinburgh about to head to a very popular pub to meet up with your mate Sam and her now  fiancé when suddenly, at quite literally the eleventh hour the man who once clawed his way into your personal fortress barges his way back into your life, with the help of your so-called best mate and her fiancé, and still has the audacity to take your breath away.

After a rather loud and long exchange of words between us which most consisted of me biting his head off for assuming that I would still be in love with him, working with Sam to get me to end my adventure here... in the B&B his parents OWN and for not believing that we could have made it work- Oh yeah! He dumped me because he didn't believe in long distance relationships. The twat!- he grabs my hand and drags me to his car. He drives a very angry me to The Peartree to meet up with my now ex-best friend and her soon-to-be-dead  fiancé to celebrate New Years together. Did I mention that The Giant is Sam's soon-to-be brother-in-law? Just one big happy family this is. Urgh!! 

Anyways, Sam hands me a pint of larger with an apologetic smile that I take begrudgingly and I look around at everyone enjoying themselves as the barman has signaled that it is the last minute of 2013. I take a sneaky look at The Giant that turned out to not be so sneaky as he was already watching me.

'I'm sorry', he mouths as he hands me a note.

30 seconds left.

I study the battered piece of paper. I can't believe he kept it. The bastard! Just when I convinced myself  that this was a justified situation to rub my nose to spite my face he goes and does this?! I look into his eyes and watch as his body quickly shifts and appears barely an inch away from me.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

Do I leave him in 2013?

Seven. Six. Five.

Or...

Three. Two. One.

I close my eyes and trust the little voice in my head. I don't hear the supposedly loud cheer or the see the fireworks or feel the beer that was mistakenly pour over my tarted Ugg boots. All I feel right now- with his big arms around me and his lips stuck to mine and my good old tear glands warming up as Sam and her fit fella scream with delight- is home. 

Because home is where the heart is right?

*  *  *  *  *  Happy New Year *  *  *  *  * 

Read It Or Not: Great Expectation

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Reading a book this month that is considered to be one of the classics seemed only right.  For my birthday, my siblings gave me a copy of Charles Dickens':

 Great Expectation.

I had been moaning about how I do not read that many books written by male authors and now I will have the chance to read one by a well renowned male author. I know some of you may be shocked by the fact that I have not yet read this book at least once before but it is ok because I am reading it now. And I can't wait to stick my nose in it and get lost in the world Charles created.

This is my book for December.

Feel free to join me on this adventure or share  your verdict on the books I plan to read or recommend the ones you love.

Yours truly,

Mo x

NaNoWriMo: Results

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Well, as to be expected I did not stick to writing everyday nor did I finish my "book" on the 6th of December. I actually feel quite sad about it because I was really excited at the prospect of finally finishing a book. It just got to a point where I ran out of steam and my characters took a break from me therefore making it impossible for me to scribbled down what they were getting up to in my head. However, during those breaks I did manage to produce two short stories that I am quite proud of.

They were quite unlike anything I had written before. It felt like my writing had... grown up a bit. I dunno. You tell me what you thought of them (here & here). I have many more ideas for short stories quite like the ones I have recently posted but I want to finish the original story I started. I am just a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to writing novels. I have this grand idea of what my 1^st book should be and I don't want to be totally crappy. Only sliiiiightly crappy hehe.


So here is what I plan to do:

1. Transcribe all my work onto my laptop- I did manage to write 46 A4 pages worth of a book...  
2. Edit my work- whittle those 46 pages down to pages containing only quality work and zero crap!
3. Finish the story- if my imagination runs too wild, as it always does, I will close my eyes and eventually write 'The End' by the end of the month.

I aim to print it out and have it bound. Once I do, I shall take a picture of it, document it here and smile until my face starts hurting because it will mean that I finally did it. I am not as brave as other people I know who really put themselves and their work out there. I cling onto my words and share them with but a few. Even though not that many people read this blog I still feel like I have taken a big step and "published" my work for others to see and that is good enough for me. Maybe one day I will publish a book properly and have it on a shelf in a book store oozing a hippy vibe. I just hope that the hands that book falls into will never let it go because it was able to touch their life and stretch their imagination just like my favourite books do to me every time I read them.

Yours truly,

Mo x

Short Story: Days In The Park

I worry about you.

I am thankful everyday for you but I worry about you.

You spend all your days and nights worrying about me and the kids, you hardly have the time to take proper care of yourself. I go to bed every night praying that tonight will be the night you sleep well but, that night has not yet come. I feel you wake up every 3 hours or so, tossing and turning and sighing and groaning as silently as you can. I pretend to roll over in my sleep and reach out for you, holding you as long as my tired arms will allow it. I feel your heart rate steadily drop and the tension in your tall, broad and strong body leave you as you find your way back to me. To here. Our bed. Our home. Our safe place.

I made sure today that you woke up to the smell of freshly baked bread and grilled sausages and an already fed set of 5 year old twin boys and a lovely, yet troublesome, 2 year old girl. I hear you slowly make your way downstairs, into the kitchen, and the sight of that smile, the one that momentarily stopped my heart all those many moons ago when I first laid eyes on you, takes my breath away even now. You kiss me good morning, placing an arm around my not so svelte body and whisper how beautiful I am. I blush and reach up to hold your face in my hands. Though the frown lines are almost permanently etched into your face I do sense a little bit of life and spark in those lovely brown eyes of yours. The kids notice your presence and run as fast as they can from the living room to come and greet you.

'Can we go to the park now, dad? You promised to take us to the park today'.

'Yes, dad. I too remember this promise'.

'Par daddy! Par!'

You smile and pick little Ruth up and tell them all to get ready to go out. I attempt to get the boys showered and dressed but you tell me not to worry, that you will handle it. And that you've run me a bath so I should go enjoy that. Tears creep into my eyes, daring to pour out but I manage to keep my emotions in check and head upstairs as quickly as I can.

Once we are all fed and showered and dressed, we make our merry way to the park. The boys, each holding their favourite toy, James a frisbee and John a football, are way ahead of us; their energy doubling the closer we get to the park. You hold my and Ruth's hand as we trail gleefully behind.

I make a beeline for the nearest bench as you and the kids break free and run amok, playing with the leaves and chasing each other as you play tag. I smile as I watch you make castles out of the green-brown leaves with Ruth and see how relaxed you seem. I catch your eye and you wink at me.

My heart flutters.

I rest my hand on my ever-growning tummy and whisper to our most anticipated Christmas gift, 'I can't wait for you to join our little gang of mischief'. I can't help but feel incredibly blessed. I close my eyes and silently thank God for answering all my prayers and giving me much more than I deserve.

I want everyday to be like our days in the park. You laughing, the kids spending quality time with you and the man I fell in love with many suns ago winning the battle against his more worrisome self. I know you are anxious and uncertain of your ability to provide for our growing family, especially now with me being a stay-at-home-mum, but I really hope that you get to have more days like today so that you can enjoy all that we have accomplished so far.

You make your way over to me, the kids hot on your heels. You place a hand on our bump and kiss me long and hard, much to the kids disgust. We laugh and I tell you I love you. You smile that smile that melted my heart many days and arguments and date nights and PTA meetings and make-up sex ago and tell me you love me too. You pull me towards you and wrap an arm around me as we sit on the bench and watch the kids  go off and play in the leaves some more. I feel how relaxed your body is and how steady your breathing is and I close my eyes, enjoying this moment.

Yes, I really wish everyday to be like our days in park as we so fortunate to be having them at all.

***                 ***

Happy Thanksgiving & Happy Hanukkah!

Short Story: In The Mornings

I wake up, like every morning, and roll over to your side of the bed to drink in the lingering warmth that your body creates when you lie next to me. I feel the sunlight lightly kissing my skin because you, like every morning, open the curtains and windows to taste the new day when you get up. I hear you bustling about as you get ready for work; the hissing of the iron, the creaking of the floorboards, the sound of running water are all instruments that are used in the song that I listen to every morning.

I groan at the sound of the door closing behind you as you make your hurried way to the kitchen to fix yourself something to eat. At least I hope you are eating and not living on caffeine alone. I let the familiar guilt crawl its way into my stress-stricken body and drown me with the fact that I am a terrible person for not taking proper care of you and ensuring that you are well fed. What would your mother think? She already does not approve of me. Instead of getting up to check you are in fact eating solid food I lie here, in bed, wrapping myself with the huge blanket we are using as a duvet this summer to stop the cold from gnawing at my fingers and toes.

I hear the door slam again quickly followed by the sweet smell of freshly made coffee. You set my coffee filled Scooby Doo mug down on the bedside table along with a buttered bagel, lie down next to me and pull me into your ever so warm embrace. Just like you do every morning. I feel hot tears trickle down my face as, like every morning, you remind me of how much you love me. The way you stroke my hair sends ripple of calm throughout my body that eventually halts the tears. I fell your soft lips plant themselves on my forehead releasing bursts of hot spots all over my body. I am very aware that we do not have much time left before you have to leave so I free my mind from all other thoughts and savour these last few moments we have together before we join the daily grind of the working life.

On time, as always, we hear the alarm go off. You pry yourself out of my embrace and head out the door. As the front door closes and I hear you turn the key I sit up and reach for the cup of coffee you made me. After I take the first sip of liquid luck I can feel my insides latching onto every drop that makes it way into my tummy. I finish it and get out of bed to perform all my morning rituals- make the bed, do the washing up, set the table for dinner and finally hop into the shower.

I miss you already.

It is like this every morning. I am sure that I cannot be the only one that believes that mornings have a funny way of affecting the rest of your day more powerfully that other times of the day. You always starts mine off right. 

Once I have patted myself dry, lathered my skin with body lotion and put on my clothes, I sit on your side of the bed, munching on my bagel. Right there and then I make up my mind up my mind to try harder to make your mornings as special as you make mine. Although I am not even remotely a morning person, it is in the mornings that I truly value the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I will try not to bring work home tonight. And I think I will make Thai green curry for dinner, as you really like that. And I will also try to go to bed early. That way I can be well rested when I wake up earlier tomorrow to start your day with a kiss, a cup of coffee and breakfast in bed.

Just like you do for me every morning.

Read It Or Not: Quiet

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I have been taking an unusually long time to read the book that is currently my lunchtime companion- Quiet by Susan Cain. Granted it is not the normal kind of book that I reach for but, I became most intrigued when Shirley (blog: meek-n-mild) did a post on it a few months ago. The cover of the book was all white and it posed a question that I had been asking myself repeatedly all year-

Can an introvert thrive in a world that cannot stop talking?

I am sure I am not the only one who dreads assessment centres stage in the interview process or giving presentations to a number of people especially when it nears the double or triple digits. 

This is my book for November.

Feel free to join me on this adventure or share  your verdict on the books I plan to read or recommend the ones you love.

Yours truly,

Mo x