Once Mondays had been hectic, with never enough time but now, each second seemed slower then the last. At first, she had been gratefully, she’d always hated that job so to lose it wasn’t that bad a blow. The belief she’d find a new job soon kept her going but now months later, she was missing working.
She was tried of daytime TV shows, reading books, job hunting and having to cope with less money. The other days were easier to deal with, she found things to keep her going but Mondays were just empty.
Looking out of my window, I was surprised to see deep snow covering the street. It was early in the morning, so the streetlamps were making the falling flakes sparkle. Frowning, I wondered how unpredictable snowstorms were. No one had said anything about this and though a few people would be happy, I wouldn’t be.
My wedding was in a few hours. The idea of cancelling, drifted into mind but it was impossible. Rain would be worse, I told myself and at least the wedding photos will look really pretty. It was hard to feel sure though.
This morning whilst on the loo, I looked into the bathtub and saw a spider. It was struggling to get out; every time it slipped back down it would scramble back up again. I thought about turning on the tap and washing him away. Though that seemed to me I a total waste of his efforts to escape. Instead, once I was finished, I used an empty loo roll to scoop him out with and setting him free. A thought came to me; weren’t we all trapped like the spider waiting for someone or something to set us free?
My granddad saved the carved wooden cupboard door from a skip. He said it was too nice to throw away and he could easily build it into something. The carving sat in his shed for years and each time I saw it, I asked what it was of and he’d tell a different story each time;
‘It’s a knight saving his village from a monster attack.’
‘The windmill’s on fire and that guard is charging in to save the man’s family.’
‘A staving solider is raiding a farm.’
Those stories stuck with me and when granddad died, I tried hard to find the carving wanting to save it. We searched everywhere with no luck but I couldn’t believe granddad would have just gotten rid of it.
Then my older brother removed a small cupboard that was in the hallway and on the back of it I saw the carved panel!
‘So, he did finally get to use it!’ I cried, hugging the cupboard.
I took the cupboard home with me and placed it in my bedroom. I can see the carving all the time now and recall all those memories of granddad.
This Valentine’s day, let’s find an empty beach where we can eat what nature gives us, beside a fire. I’ll write songs about you and perform them on my guitar. As the sun sets, we’ll say our forever love to each other and everything will be all right in the world.
Bob still couldn’t believe that underground train network was closed down as he started to turn off the lights. It had only been open a few years but its’ popularity hadn’t been able to save it when the business and economy had gone bust. Still he’d somehow held on to his cushy night watchman’s job, even if all he was guarding now were empty stations and tracks.
Our laughter sounding across the garden, mixing with the sound of the sweet summer rain. Our racing footsteps to the old family mausoleum, the closest shelter around. Us standing in the doorway, watching the rainfall as the drops dripped off us like it did on the tree leaves.
We cuddled together upon one of the cold marble beaches that formed a broken circle around the staircase that led down to the tomb. You kissed me with the softness of first love. I said we shouldn’t, but we both wanted it and it felt so right.
Laying naked on the stone floor, staring at the mosaic on the ceiling, not thinking anything. Listening to your gentle breathing and heartbeat, realising my own was right alongside. We kept warm by shared body heat, dozing on and off. How I wished that moment could last forever.
Time and life don’t wait for anyone. At least we had all those years together and now we can finally be together once more.
It wasn’t what the holiday brochure advertised but I wasn’t one to be picky. Everything worked, it was clean, the view was nice and the hotel staff friendly. It didn’t seem a bad place for a single traveller to stay in during a sunny holiday. Though the building looked really ramshackled and about to fall down. It creaked something awful which the sounds of the river and boats couldn’t counter. The feelings of danger never left and I just couldn’t relax. Sad to say, but I went home early and back to my country gripped in the blast of winter.
Sitting on a park bench, I saw a paper pinned by a rock. With a quick glance, I picked up and read what was a love letter. The named addressee seemed familiar and looking I spotted the same name on the bench’s plaque. I returned the letter and left.