Six Days

On the seventh day, he woke to the sting of tears, panting.

The image of her perfect, pouty lips as she had flung those horrid words at him remained etched in his mind; not even the unexpected, yet dreadful gift of a few hours of sleep could keep his thoughts from going back.

Six days.
It still tore at his guts.

Drenched in sweat, wiping the tears from his cheeks while reminding himself to Be A Man, he looked around the room, bleary-eyed. The pillow to his right was abandoned, the blanket crumpled and on the floor. The girl, last night’s ‘bump & grind accomplice’, seemed to have fled the building, along with his watch and wallet, which he remembered to have put on his nightstand a couple of hours ago.

Shit. Shit. Shit.
What was her name again? Sarah? Sandra? Oh, hell…

With a grunt, he sat up. He could still taste WhatsHerName on his tongue; the faint, yet lingering stench of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume completed the mental image of her – writhing underneath him. Wincing, he pinched the bridge of his nose, hopelessly trying to keep last night’s memories from conquering his mind. The first tendrils of a splitting headache licked at his temples, a perfectly infuriating addition to the already painfully present mix of guilt and shame.

Six days.

Absent-mindedly, he reached for the half-emptied, half-forgotten beer bottle on the floor and took a hearty swig. Stale and disgusting – but it would have to do, until he could get his legs to do his bidding and carry him over to the fridge.

It had been six days since She had left him.
Six days since the words, “I never want to see you again.” had sprung from her lips and driven their dagger-shaped intent into his heart.
Six days since his heart had been cremated.
Six days… since he had buried her remains a little way off the beautiful riverbed of Camlyn’s Creek; the exact spot where they had made love for the first time.

He stared at his trembling fingers, still clutching the beer bottle, and felt his stomach convulse.

Her words would haunt him forever.
She would haunt him forever.
That, he was sure of.

photo credits:

a new dawn

she woke with the taste of blood and bile in her mouth, the crescent moon standing silent watch on the far side of the stained window.
she had survived her eclipse – her taste buds proved that much.

running shaking fingers over her damp face, she sat up, slowly. the stench of vomit and cold cigarette smoke filled the air, making her gag yet again.

resurrected, only to stare at a world of shit.

she could hear him snoring to her left.
the sound made her convulse, made the faint taste of blood flare up, sharp and demanding. her tongue snaked out of her mouth, carefully exploring the cut in her lower lip.

he had done it again.

he had promised, eyes pleading.
it had lasted a day.

slowly, she stood, careful not to make any noise. the hard, wooden floor felt cool beneath her bare feet.
silently, she gathered her clothes, her shoes, her bag… her life – still in pieces.

and to the watcher’s soft, comforting light, she closed the door behind her; bare feet leading the way to newfound opportunities.


his body was fading and he did not mind.
he couldn’t feel his muscles growing weaker; his heartbeat, slowing to the brink of death.

her eyes.
those green, otherworldly eyes.
he could see his reflection in them… and for the first time in his life, he felt beautiful.

her slender fingers caressed his brow as she slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth… back and forth.
the softness of her voice soothed his worldly aches.

she sang to him.

his heart skipped a beat.

how long ago he had followed her call, he could not remember. he had found her… deep in the woods, striding towards him with open arms, inviting.

how do you resist the charms a goddess?!
how do you resist falling to your knees and bowing to her will?!

that smile.
he had lost himself in her smile.
nothing mattered.
just her… him… and their wholeness.

the touch of her hand, light as feathers, made him drowsy. he drank in the warmth of her embrace.
so soft… so feminine… so… perfect.

her tune ended on a whisper, the last tones dripping slowly from her full, luscious lips.
she smiled – just for him.
as she bowed her head and leaned in to kiss him, he closed his eyes… eagerly awaiting the touch of her lips on his.

just this one kiss…

the next moment, his life was forfeit.
a life claimed… by the goddess of the woods.

photo credits:

Precious Moments

Unexpected events are the BEST.
Especially if they are from the ‘amazing’ category.

I love surprises.
It’s still morning and I already witnessed something majestic.
How fascinating is that?

There is this truly wonderful person in my life. I met him a while ago, and to this day, I am honored to be his friend.
Since Day 1, I watched him struggle. with life… with himself… with love… with pain. He never seemed to be able to catch a break.
He was caught up in his circles, going round and round; feet blistered and bloody – yet, he kept on walking. Never looked up for fear the world would come crashing down on him.
The devil we know…

It felt horrible to see him like that.
He is a gem; a true beauty in a world full of shit.
I knew I couldn’t help him break his patterns – every person has to take that step on their own – so I waited and watched.
Such a painful duty.

The past couple of days, I saw something… glinting in the dark.
A tiny spark, so faint… but unmistakably there.
Today, I watched that spark turn into a flame.
He, the warrior who fought for so long, stopped going in circles.
He looked up from the trench his feet had worn into the ground.
There was purpose in his eyes.
There was life… in a realm of decay.

I know true beauty when i see it.
The warrior took his first step outside the circle… such a strong move.
I do not know where he is headed… I am sure, neither does he – but I am thrilled he took the first step.

Some of us can move mountains.
I am sure he can.

I am thankful to be able to witness such pure beauty.
I wish said warrior the best of luck.
He surely deserves it.


another day, nearly gone to ground.

she can see the last rays of the setting sun reach for the nebulous shapes of the few, lingering clouds; clawing at them… as if the sun itself refuses to make way for the darkness of night.
with longing eyes, she watches the struggle, the battle in the sky; the battle for her soul.
with a last flare of orange, red and pink, her lonely hero surrenders.
at least the sun fights for her.

she sighs.
her last day on earth has ended.

standing alone on the windswept street, she watches darkness claim its territory. slowly but steadily.
she doesn’t have much time left.

she can no longer feel the wind ruffle her hair, can no longer feel the sting of cold in her lungs; her breath doesn’t fog in the evening air.

she can no longer feel… anything.


she had been non-existent for a long time.
no friends.
no family.
no connections.
no recognition.

she hadn’t been strong enough to make herself known. her voice had been drowned out by others; more demanding, more exceptional.
and slowly, she had begun to fade.

at first, she hadn’t noticed. not at all.
people had always ignored her, looked through her… as if she had been less than a shadow – not solid enough to be recognized. not radiant enough to be seen.
then, the day came, where she could no longer hear her footfalls on the ground. the sound had… drifted away. she had been startled at first by the lack of sound announcing her presence, but had never demanded an answer to the unnatural occurrence.
deep inside, she had known.

over time, she had grown more and more numb.
she had no longer felt the fabric of her clothes on her skin; scalding water couldn’t affect her numbness, nor could freezing cold.

she had accepted the role that had been forced on her by society. she had never been existent in people’s eyes… she would no longer exist in her own.
during the course of weeks, months, she had accepted her fate, had said her farewells to her once solid form… had begun to dissolve.


she looks at her translucent body, barely visible in the rapidly fading light of the day.
she doesn’t even try to speak; her voice, left to extinguish, long ago.

one more night to endure.
one last torturing night in this hostile environment called earth. one last night… at the edge of her existence.

the distant sound of the ocean calms the withering remnant of her tormented heart.
the place… where her being would extinguish.
a last look at the vastness of the darkening giant; it is all she cares about, in the final, fleeting moments of her life.

she would be long gone before the first rays of dawn would touch the ocean’s surface, make glittering waves lap at the shoreline.
she hopes the sun will find her remains… and carry her to peace – far beyond the horizon.

with a sad smile on her face, she walks towards her salvation, sweet hope of an end to her suffering coursing through her veins, adding strength to her stride.

her misery… it would all end… tonight.


the sky wept, creating a sad symphony in unison with his footsteps.

hair, plastered to his head, grim expression on his face, he walked through the steady downpour as if his heart was still intact. head held high, shoulders straight… a masquerade for the benefit of his audience.

do not show weakness.

determined stride.
he could still feel her eyes lingering on his silhouette.

a few minutes ago, he had been warm.
a few minutes ago, he had loved her more than anything.
and then…
seven words had changed his world.

“I think we should see other people.”

out of the blue, she had launched this gut-wrenching missile at him… and it had hit home. hard.
she had been tracing the rim of her coffee cup with her fingers, eyes averted, while he had struggled not to be torn apart.
such agony.

his footsteps guided him through the pulsating rhythm of the streets, bright neon lights illuminating the wet irony of his surroundings.

just one more corner.

a few more steps and he would be out of her sight. a few more steps.
tears formed in his eyes; he did not let them escape.

not yet.

one last step… and…
out of sight.

cradled by the heavy rains drowning him in misery, he allowed himself to fall apart.