Author: Alexander Fawn

The schoolgirl ran her finger across the book spines on the shelf.

She had been asked to write an essay on storms, how they are formed and the damage they can cause. She settled on a large volume that dealt with the world’s worst disasters. She felt sure she’d find something she could use. She was carrying it to a desk when the lady with a trolley of returns rounded the end of the nearby isle. She paused and looked across at the girl.

Pushing her trolley closer, she said, “Just be careful with that one, young lady.”

The girl looked up. “Careful?”

“Yes. It can be problematic?”

“Problematic?”

“It has been known to cause trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Yes. We’ve had accidents.”

“Accidents?”

“Yes, just be sure you don’t leave the book open at one spot for long.”

“Spot?”

“Yes. Page. Don’t leave it open at any given page for too long.”

“Page?”

“Look! You seem to be repeating everything I say.”

The girl shrugged. “I just don’t understand what you’re telling me, that’s all.”

A glimmer of a smile. “Yes. Well, OK. It is difficult I suppose. Anyway, just be careful.” She smiled awkwardly and moved on, pushing her trolley down another isle.

The girl checked the index for storms and turned to the page. It was very detailed with photographs of the devastation caused, coloured charts giving meteorological data, and descriptions of the events. It described how large regions had been ravaged, reaping massive destruction and creating unbelievably high death toll figures.

After several minutes of note-taking, she went looking for a toilet. After several more minutes, she returned.

As she approached the desk, a great booming roll of thunder seemed to swirl around the outside of the library and a tremor started to vibrate up through the floor. This was followed by an almighty crack of lightning that seemed to be directly over the building. The lights flickered and books began dropping from shelves.

She ran forward and closed the book.

You feel the ebbing in your skin,

Your teeth, hands, eyes and walking.

But age is becoming in a ‘child of life’,

As long as you’re still talking.

–

Maintain all moments of belonging.

Let intimacy remain a treasure.

Trade loneliness as closeness grows,

Don’t hide the grace that age bestows.

–

While struggling with tiny print,

While needing brighter lights,

Age softly with a mortal calm,

Let contentment reach its heights.

–

Do not let your retorts flag,

Every story has an ending.

Beauty is replaced by wisdom,

Hold fast to comprehending.

–

Leave good stories as you go.

Make sure the passion stays.

Observe life’s changing patterns,

Towards the end of days.

Leave monuments, not ruins,

As you travel down the track.

For this time round, at least,

There is no going back!

His mind was made up, this would be the best that money can buy.

Cash had been stashed away for almost a year. This will be the crème de la crème. He knows exactly what he wants. He will travel to the city for it. He knows there are places there that are equal to the best in the world. Money will be no object. He will approach the makeover with the knowledge that his requirements have accumulated in detail over a long period. He knows exactly what he wants.

He wants something that radiates his personal, effortless, sense of power.

He wants something that inspires confidence in others when they come near him.

He knows exactly what he wants.

He wants something that allows people to judge him with kindness.

He wants something that has the girl from the pie shop on the corner looking at him twice.

He wants something that exudes political correctness.

He knows exactly what he wants.

He wants something that has ordinary people feeling special when they talk to him.

He wants something that gives people a reason to live.

He knows exactly what he wants.

He wants something that encourages sick people to get better.

He wants something that brings about peace on Earth.

Wow! Now that he really comes to think about it all… that business about the girl from the pie shop on the corner looking at him twice… is actually all he wants!

After so many months of careful planning, this would see it all come to fruition.

The man driving had been behind the wheel for several hours, while the woman next to him could hardly contain her excitement. She had been talking non-stop about what a relief it would be to finally rid herself of the other man in her life, all the time waving the precious airline tickets, their passports to freedom. Occasionally, she would stop and hug them to her chest.

Eventually, they pulled off the track at a secluded spot. The location they had both agreed would be ideal. She stared out at the wooded area.

“I really couldn’t have done any of this without you,” she said, cuddling up next to him. “I knew this would be the perfect place. There’s no chance of any busybody walking a dog, way out here, making a discovery.” She kissed him on the cheek, then took the gun from the glovebox.

He hugged her tighter. “Are you sure you want to do this? I can take care of it, if you want,” he offered.”

She shook her head, smiling. “No, my love; this part I’m going to enjoy, believe me.” With that she gets out of the car and goes to the boot.

The man in the boot, both gagged and handcuffed, squirms around grunting with the sudden light almost blinding him.

“Out!” she shouts, and pulls at him as he struggles to get out. He falls to the ground and slowly makes it to his feet.

She takes out the shovel and begins pushing him towards the trees, with the gun held to the back of his head. When they reach the place selected for it, the digging begins.

The man in the car, waits.

After a lengthy period a gunshot rings out through the woods, sending birds fluttering.

The man in the car hears the gunshot and smiles.

Then the silence returns for a while before he sees her returning, with the shovel over her shoulder, wearing a broad grin.

Nearly at the car, she points back, smiling, saying something. He winds his window down.

The man standing by the open grave hears the gunshot and smiles.

She went in looking for a plant that would fill the gap on the back fence.

She entered the nursery and spent the first few minutes looking around. She was sure she would need some help. A young man loitered nearby. She couldn’t tell whether he was staff or a customer. He didn’t seem very interested in the hundreds of plants that filled the shed. Maybe he was just waiting for someone. She kept meandering up and down the rows. Finally, she decided to find someone. The few people wandering about were all customers; she could tell that. As she came out from the end of the row, she spotted the young man again. This time she could see his badge.

“Excuse me,” she started, “I’m sure I’m going to need some help.”

He sighed. “What kind of help,” he said, as though she was pretty dumb to be asking at all.

She looked more closely at his name badge. “Well, with plants. I need to buy a plant and just need some help choosing the right one.”

He shrugged. “What are you looking for?”

Encouraged by the response she said, “It’s something to fill a gap.”

“Gap?”

“Oh! Yes. A gap in the garden.” She looked around, smiling as best she could, she asked, “Is the tall woman with ginger hair around?”

He shook his head, “Not in today.”

“Oh! Pity. She’s a mine of information. OK. What about the girl then?”

“Not in either. Can I help you?”

She took a deep breath. “Yes. OK. I’ll tell you what I have in mind. I need a nice, bushy plant, one with small leaves, preferably blue. It needs to be sturdy because the spot it’s going to is fairly windy. It doesn’t need to be tall, say, a metre tops. It will have to be something that doesn’t need a lot of direct sunlight. It would also be nice if it doesn’t require much water.” She nodded to herself. “It really must be low maintenance,” she finished. She gave him a hopeful smile.

He seemed to go blank for a moment, then said, “Oh! Yes, of course. Let me see. Give me a minute.” With that, he moved through to the back of the nursery and disappeared from sight.

She took the opportunity to have a further look around, while she waited.

After several minutes she began looking at her watch. She wandered around some more. When she looked at the time again she saw it had been fifteen minutes! Fifteen minutes of waiting. It really was too bad. She decided to leave.

On the way out she saw him smoking by the hedge.

The leak was getting worse.

They hadn’t long moved into the house. It was a bit of a fixer-upper, but they were just happy to have a place of their own. His work was in town and hers was to think about how the place could be made more, ‘them’. This was straightforward enough until they discovered that the dripping under the laundry sink was getting louder.

He grimaced, saying, “Look. You find someone, preferably local. After all, you’ll be here to show them the problem.”

She nodded. “OK. I’ll look for someone on line. There must be heaps of plumbers out there. I’ll pick one.”

“Good on you, pet. If you have any problems, give me a call.”

Later that morning she did her research and came up with a couple of phone numbers. She rang the preferred mobile number. A man answered and she gave him an idea of what the problem was. To her delight, he was about to finish a job and go home for lunch. He could be there early afternoon.

She put the phone down with a satisfied look on her face. “Wow! That was easy,” she whispered, mentally patting herself on the back.

As expected, just after one, a van pulled up in the road and a man in a boilersuit carrying a large tool box rang the bell.

She was leading the way down the hall towards the laundry when she realised that the tradesman had stopped. She turned and walked back smiling. The cupboard door was open and he was staring in.

“You like the costumes, I see,” she said.

He stood nodding.

“My husband works for an entertainment supplies agency. Sometimes these costumes come back needing small repairs before going to the cleaners.

He looked awkward. “Reminds me of school,” he said.

She pointed down the hall. “Shall we?”

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry.”

“That’s OK,” she said as they entered the laundry. “Shall I leave you to see what you can do?”

“Sure,” he said, setting down his toolbox.

After a few minutes, he called out. She joined him and listened while he explained the problem. He said it was serious and shouldn’t be left. The problem was it was going to take a couple of hours.

“Oh! Really?”

He wrote into a pad with estimated hours and cost. ”Yes. I’m happy if you want to get other quotes or have me come back when it suits. There’s no call out fee, and I won’t charge you for a quote. It’s up to you.”

She thought for a minute, knowing that she had to shop for food. “I’m happy for you to go ahead. I have to go out for a while this afternoon, but I’m sure I can leave you to it. A couple of hours, you say?”

“About that,” he replied, taking another look under the sink.

“That’s fine then. I’ll let you know when I’m leaving,” she said, and left him to it.

It was only minutes before she had got herself organised for the shops. She stuck her head in, saying, “OK. Shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

He was on his back with his head under the pipes. “Okey dokey,” came the reply, amid a clatter of metal on pipework.

She drove off, mentally figuring out where to shop first. As she pulled into the underground carpark fifteen minutes later, she suddenly realised she had left her carefully set out shopping list at home. Annoyed with herself, she drove out again.

When she arrived at the house she went straight to the laundry to let him know it was only her.

He wasn’t there.

Her eyes widened, as she looked out of the back window’

He was dressed in a full Dalmatian’s costume, shuffling around the back lawn on all fours, barking!

“I sure can pick ‘em…,” she whispered.

She found her shopping list and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

How little we really know,

When a mind gets in a knot.

That goes into a dark place,

Whether induced by drugs or not.

–

Some unseen door in the mind

Has a latch that is swinging free.

Allowing lies to take on beauty,

Finding boredom in sanity.

–

Wanting, wanting; forever wanting.

A future being held at bay.

Becoming demented by default,

No matter what they say.

–

The mind being lost in clouds,

Seeing hope in some open refrain.

A craving for the unattainable,

When only persistent illusions remain.

–

Trying to erase shadows.

Feel the biting not the tasting.

Waiting for the fury to die.

To know the spoiling and the wasting.

–

Preferring psychedelic confusion,

As verity and lunacy ride in tandem,

Becoming a stranger to yourself,

All resolve becoming random.

–

Finding safety in delusion.

Striving to survive frailly.

Wallowing in each disorder.

Suppressing demons daily.

–

Whether left alone unseen,

Whether understood or not.

How little we really know,

When a mind gets in a knot.

She is sitting in silence, in the corner of her darkened room.

She is relaxed with her eyes closed, and she is smiling. She is bright and some may say she is lonely; she is not. She is not alone. She is not alone in this.

She is the receiver of all sights and sounds that Mother Earth opens to her.

She is the falling leaves of autumn, the biting cold of winter, the scented breeze of spring and the burning heat of summer.

She is able to hear laughter coming out of silence, and the music that is heard within the rhythm of the whirling stars.

She is the rain that soaks the land, quenching all below.

She is the river, moving towards the vastness of the oceans. Waiting patiently to immerse itself into the enormity of the beckoning ocean, holding within it the never-ending cycles of birth and decay.

She is the ocean, with its great swelling motion that laps upon so many coasts. She is attuned to both the calm sway of gentle seas and the surf’s roar as it pounds against rocky shores.

She is the towering mountain that reaches up into a never-ending sky.

She is the forest that stands green and firm, yet forever swaying with breezes that carry the symphony of birdsong and the trickling of countless brooks. She is at one with the melody of the life that breathes there.

She is the great void of space that spreads endlessly towards infinity.

She is time; owning every second that has passed, all those to come, and all those that are ever changing and are.

She is shadow, boundless in the silence that steeps into infinitude.

She is the wonderment of a thousand myths long passed.

She is the fire that burns within the souls of all here.

She is all things existing, both in the here and now and beyond, and then beyond all that which is known.

She is.

He considered the view to be truly beautiful.

The trees, the rooves and the church spire. It’s like a painting, and it’s always there. This is his favourite spot. He can just make out the cars that travel beyond the hedgerow in the distance.

He loves watching clouds move with ease across a blue sky. Sometimes the fierce summer heat worries him, but it doesn’t last. Occasionally there are birds. He hates them. They make him feel so, well… inadequate!

Sometimes, boys come into the field, pretending to shoot each other with sticks for rifles.

Other times, people cut through with their dogs. He likes to watch these animals chase around so fast, obviously having a good time, and their owners whistling and calling loudly, but with good humour. He often wants to chase around with them.

He is proud to be wearing the shirt and jacket given to him by the man who owns the land. The hat he wears used to belong to the owner’s son, now long gone to the big city, where he now works in a medical centre providing dental care. He feels sure his father wanted him to stay and work on the farm.

He, of course, doesn’t have a choice.

But he likes to think that what he does is important.

His job is to scare crows.

 

While you were away I made a few changes. I hope you don’t mind.

That little table that you were always fond of is now in the corner of the living room, by the sideboard. It looks good there. Before I moved it, I created more wall space by pushing the settee further into the middle of the wall.

Also, I’ve replaced that old winter forest picture that hung over the television with the one from the spare bedroom. You know the one; I know how much you like it. You said it reminded you of back home, although the cityscape had too many tall buildings in it.

I went into town yesterday and bought a new shade for the ceiling light. It’s bigger than the old one. Oh! Yes. I put a stronger globe in as well. It throws more light across to where our photos sit. I moved those around too. I always liked that one your uncle took of us at the lake. When you and I were dragging the canoe out and you kept laughing about how hopeless I had been with the paddle, and your uncle grabbing his camera and capturing the scene. You laughing and me looking hurt. Now, we both smile when we look at it.

I’ve put it right there in the middle.

All right my love, I’ll tell you more when I visit your grave tomorrow.