I carefully lifted it out of the box and gazed in awe at the perfect yellow gold band . I held it between my fingers and marveled at it’s texture. I thought of my hopes and dreams as I slipped it on my finger. I admired it’s perfect fit as I held my hand out before me. Quickly, before I could regret it, I popped it in my mouth and swallowed – I just can’t resist a Cheezel!
Ever since I heard, there’s been this impending sense of DOOM. Stupid really, as it’s only a minuscule thing now and I won’t be able to notice anything for a good while yet. But I know! It is coming, there is no escape from it and it must be faced. I’m trying to be positive, but it’s hard as I imagine time getting shorter each day. How could we possibly be past the longest day already!
I cannot sit where you sat, there is still too much you left behind. I saw you there everyday, basking in the sun, warm with contentment. I envied you and jealously wished I had the same opportunity to sit, quiet and still and relaxed. Now your seat is empty, and it beckons me, calls to me, but the consequences would be too much, teary eyes and runny nose. So, I shall not sit in your seat, your space will not be taken – cat fur does not agree with me.
Your support is really suppression and constriction, and while you hold me up you also hold me back. When you are close for too long you chafe me, yet each morning I embrace the way you mold me. By days end I revel in my liberation as I discard your confining ways, and yet I know that tomorrow I will allow myself to be enslaved once more. Bra, how I despair of thee, let me count the ways!
The Hobb-lin Fumb-lin Monks follow the path of Fro Zen. Fro Zen teaches that meditating naked in a blizzard, on a bare mountain peak, will guide you to Enlightenment.
Which it does! because after the local surgeon Mr N’Ligh Tenment removes your frostbitten fingers and toes, the radiant shine of enlightenment teaches you that it is really, really, really stupid to sit naked in a blizzard.
The path of Fro Zen believes in double reinforcement when searching for enlightenment.
(Also they own shares in a company that makes extra small shoes and fingerless gloves.)
My success rate varies, hearts can be very hard to win. Patience is the name of the game, and I have plenty of experience with that. My evenings are spent practising skills and developing strategies, all aimed at making the ladies fall for me: the slow approach, the fancy flourish, the delicate manoeuvring, the calculated risk and finally the display of reckless abandon. Despite what you may think I am no cad, as in the end I always lay my cards on the table and admit that Solitaire is my Mistress.
A quick, sharp death was all that was given as the glory of youth were cut down in their prime. No gentle decline into old age for them, their future taken away by a moment of greed. What was theirs was wanted by another, and so death was planned on a blue sky day.
Today the garden may be barren, but my vase overflows.
It’s the middle of winter with snow down to sea level.
I rub my hands through my hair and watch as small white flakes swirl and drift down to my feet.
I step away from the window and murmur, “Better buy some more shampoo.”
Regret shines in your eyes as you look at me.
“You shouldn’t have done that” you say softly.
I gaze at your familiar features, and sadly nod my head, “I know, but I was weak and selfish.”
“What will happen now?” you ask me.
“Now”, I whisper, “now, I will turn around and walk away.”
And so I do, turning my back on the mirror.