The Stranger

My heart was racing, I could still hear the near miss train chugging along the track, I almost died.  The world was quiet but only in my ears. It was the cold strangers' hands on my shoulder that yanked me back into reality.
His lips moved full trying to communicate with me, I didn't understand I just heard a husk panic. He pulled me to the side into a minuscule cafe, as everything sank in and I noted my failed death, he wrapped my hands around a solid white mug of what tasted sweet on my tongue.
"T-thank Y-you," I managed to force the words out, I hadn't meant them.

"You're lucky I caught you like I did!" He smiled, yes lucky me I thought. 

For the first time I looked up at him properly, his eyes were brown, I have brown eyes yet his were different. They seemed darker, colder and way more passionate than mine. They complemented him, whilst mine made me dull. His smile seemed genuine, it touched his full cheeks and reached his brown souls. I felt lost for words, was it destiny that my almost death would allow me to meet this stranger? The stranger that showed more compassion and care towards me than any person I have ever known or confined in. He saved my life, and I will forever be in his debt.

The Stranger

Monday 19 December 2016

Hunter of Hope - Wave of Lavender

Previous parts (in order)
Hunter of Hope
Wild One


Wave of Lavender

The heart in my chest felt heavy, and my body started to feel limp. I was out for too long, and now it's taking a toll on my body.  I arrived back to the wooden log I called my home, it somehow wasn't how I left it. Nothing was physically touched, but it didn't need to be. It was evident someone or something had been here, evident in the foreign scent they left behind. 
I wasn't afraid to search the house; after all the owner of the household must protect what is theirs. I didn't find anything. Needless to say, it was the first time I had come across such a scent, it was dark, almost intoxicating yet refreshing with a wave of lavender, it wasn't the last time I'd meet the scent either.
I would have been annoyed at the anonymous intruder, the one I'd never met since the scent was new to me, but I was annoyed more at myself for not bringing back good game, instead I allowed myself to get caught up with exploring.
Tomorrow, tomorrow I will bring back the best game, and I won't come back until I do. 
Hungrily I made way into the kitchen, eager to find something, anything to eat. Living alone had its perks, like not having to share or bring back heavy loads of game, instead I just wanted to bring home decent game, something more than Ferrell.
From takings I had a small feast, a few gooseberries, a handful of chestnuts  and half a squirrel, I had eaten the other half on my journey today only now I wish I hadn't. 
I felt the need to bath, even though I was a little more tired. Out back was a well, it was small and made of stone. I hardly used it, due to long the Summer the only water it supplied was warm. For a bath it was perfect, with the small pale made of wood and iron I trekked back and forth from the well to my large tin bath. It took me about an hour to fill it, and even then it wasn't even half full. Returning the pale back to its well I got a waft of the intoxicating scent with the wave of lavender.
Immediately my guard went up, and my eyes searched around my wooden log. No one on the street, no one in the fields. The scent was there and then it was gone. I felt the immediate need to return inside, I shook off the moment and went into my little made up bathroom. 
I stripped myself of my clothing and simply sat in the tin bath. The water was warm as I figured it would be,  it felt almost foreign. For a while now I had been accustomed to cold showers, I say shower I mean a pathetic almost rusted pip that runs up my bathroom wall with a little knob that allows water to spurt out. I positioned the tin bath underneath so I never soaked the floor. 
As I sat in the bath I looked at nothing but the water, I sat for a while before I even began to bath myself. By the time I was done the water was almost cold, but I didn't care. I dried myself off with the smallest of towels, I didn't bother putting clothes on. Upstairs I went and climbed into bed, where I'd lay for the next ten hours.

Next Part;
Lupus

Hunter of Hope - Wave of Lavender

Wednesday 8 June 2016

The Sun

With the madness of the world and the tragic day, the flurry of life and the adventures of struggle,throughout all of that one thing is certain, one thing will stay the same, the beauty of sun rise and sun set. Wherever you are in the world it is certain. Even if you don't appreciate the beauty, it will always be there. In the passing of days, the sleeping of nights it's easy to let it slip away. It will always return though, once in a while you notice it. Capturing it and feeling blessed for its colour pallette. Light to darkness it's prominent, darkness to light it's prominent. It's there at the beginning and the end of the day.

The Sun

Saturday 16 January 2016

Monday's

Monday's are as hollow as the abandoned cafe area around the nine twenty five marker. Thoughts are as heavy as the footsteps of the rushed students swarming to their classes. I'm buzzed, as buzzed as a medium latte can you make you first thing in the morning. I'm clueless, clueless as to think of the next line to tell you. My list of things to do is as long as the stairs that lead you to the separate floors. I'm feeling a little lost, lost like a new kid trying to find their way by a paper map. Monday's they are as indecisive as a student trying to choose their lunch. They're temperamental like a smart board on the blink.  They can bring happiness like a friendly smile or they can bring sadness like teenage heartache. Monday's are sprung on us after a chilled weekend like a surprise mock exam. That's a Monday for you, a Monday like mine.

Monday's

Monday 11 January 2016

Short Story Sample

I'm working on a short story and I've been writing it and well  I thought  I'd  share en exclusive small sample on my blog;

With a face as delicate as petals, eyes as pretty as love, a smile red like a rose. The beauty trapped in a glass house.

Short Story Sample

Tuesday 17 November 2015