A photo from the park near my student campus, taken just before moving out. Funny how you appreciate things when you're about to lose them.
Revelations: IntroductionsIntroductionsRevelations: Introductions by 0Hamster0
"Annabel what can I say?"
"'Thank you' is a possibility, you know."
The man responded with a loud laugh, then jumped up from his workbench and pulled the girl close to give her a tight hug with his left arm.
The source of his joy was clutched tightly in his right hand: a distorted length of wood that was special in no way, apart from a pitted and tarnished plaque that had been fixed onto it. It was after the man had examined this piece of metal under a couple of magnifying lenses that he had exclaimed his gratitude; the girl, thoroughly embarrassed by the embrace, wished she'd had the foresight to stand a few steps further back. Perhaps even behind the workroom's door.
The door in question was eased open at that moment by a woman who looked like an older version of the girl: her mother.
"Judging by the commotion I could hear all the way from the dining room, I take it you've received your birthday present?" She asked smilingly.
The man loosened his hug and re
Refurbishing a rustpotRefurbishing a rustpot by 0Hamster0
The sunlight was weak that day, filtered as it usually was through the clouds of this great but grimy Empire; it was further greyed and dimmed by the exhausts of the numerous Skysteamers oozing their way through the air, their pale steel skins shimmering arrogantly.
Not that the old rustpot in front of me was much to look at, anyway. It was a relic from Prussia's Great Unification War - the very boat that my wife's grandfather claimed to have worked on, worked in, and travelled upon, before washing up on the shores of a small English town.
So here we were, this small group of us: myself, my wife, her brother, and the overseer of the Refurbishment Yard; all of us gathered there on the sheer insistence of my wife, despite it being the morning after the King's birthday, and therefore an unofficial half-day of recuperation.
Perhaps it was the thought of the previous day's flow of fluids that made my mind focus so close
AutumnThe wind - a gentle giant - strolled down the avenue, letting its fingers trail through the trees on either side.Autumn by 0Hamster0
The trees, in turn, whispered pleasurably, each comparing with its neighbour the leaves falling from their crowns: the volume; the vividity of their hues; the voices as they rasped and chortled across the ground, skittering in the wake of the wind.
And above them all, the piercing glow of the sun, as Nature bade farewell to the summer and heralded the beginning of autumn.
Closure.Closure. by 0Hamster0
My feet slipped on the sand. I wasn't used to walking down by the riverside by myself.
I kept my eyes lowered, focussing on each step; sometimes I flicked my eyes up to my destination: the rusty old pier.
Getting here had been difficult - and not only because of the stones sliding and shifting underfoot: I had gotten out of bed much later than I should have, my body ready to start the day but my mind too reluctant to give the order. But my mind eventually gave in: I had been prepared for this hesitation and had written a list of reasons of why I needed to do this, the night before. As the list lengthened into the night, the reasons became deeper, crossing the border of the personal and into the territory of the intimate.
In the cold light of day, each point was a twist in the heart, until I pulled myself out of bed - gasping, gasping.
Now here I am, at the rusty pier, the place we had come to call 'our haunt'. But there is no 'our' anymore. No more. No more.
The tide of the
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