Sunday, January 27, 2008


The movement all around him was silent and deafening. The only thing which made sense right now was the feeling of his pulse. It was his only constant from his other world. His older life.

Bubbles floated past him. Each one containing a universe of joy and lies. All of them reaching out. Some for him, to bring him back. And some for air. And a few, just a few, clung to him. And continued the journey with him.

He waited for something to happen. For a sign. Anything.

He saw her in his minds eye. Her beautiful lips, moving slowly. Then there was music. And he was lost in her hair. On his face. Sometimes, tickling his eyelids. And the wind. Powerful and cool. Flares of sunshine coming through.

How much time did he have left? That didn’t matter. Only now did.

Sunday, January 13, 2008


She welcomed him back with open arms.

* * *

But this was a different side of her that he was going to see.

The scratches on the surface would give away to deeper scars. To scars of torture, twinge and torment. To the past that he knew about, but had not felt, not seen. Whether he had been reluctant to look beyond, or she had been to open up more – they were not sure. But now was the time.

Unexpected but overdue.

He had to see how she came to where she was today. The path that was taken, and left behind. The bygones that would never be bygone. Reality.

She was ready to bite. And he, to be bitten.

* * *

She welcomed him back with open arms. After all, he was coming back.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008


The leaves crunched as he stepped into the frame. Brittle, brown, bruised. The circular flare blinded him from the side. Shining, shimmering, severe.

He wondered if he was alone. The echoes played tricks on his mind. Were they ricochets from now, or from the past? There was a presence that he couldn’t describe. Amidst the desolation it still seemed like everything was how it was. But not there.

He stepped forward, hesitatingly. And saw the flashes. Every leaf that crunched was a memory brought back. He crunched them, one by one. Till every one of them had crumbled and mingled with each other. This was the mother of all jigsaw puzzles. And this was the only way to put it back together.

Monday, January 07, 2008


For a moment
A whore
Feels romance

For a moment
The music
Is silent

For a moment
The night
Creates shadows

For a moment
It all
Makes sense

That moment
Is over