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Monday, 14 November 2011

Question mark tattoo

Want to read an excerpt of my NaNoWriMo story? To be honest I think it's about time I held up my hand to say 'There is no chance that I will finish on time' and leave it here. So onwards and upwards. Here's what I've got.  It's described as spontaneous prose vs folktale... ho hum hum. Here goes...


Late at night on a train journey with a notebook full of drawings. She noticed him before his  drifting gaze noticed hers. He had thin wrists with a small question mark tattooed above the pisiform bone on his left. A slight smile on his face, but his eyes were distant and staring forward. She wondered about him. Where had she seen him before? She recognised the scrawl under his pen, the drawings whose wispy overtones were achingly familiar.  She had seen him here before with his notebook and pen This train, this time. That smile. Hard to look casual, she began glancing around the carriage. She found it even harder to look away. noticing the approaching station before it was too late, she grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, running to the door.  The train jolted to a stop and she jumped off into the snow, the cold of the air catching in her lungs and ripping around her shoulders. Shuddering she pulled up her fur collar and headed towards the bar.  Her hair was a mess; even after all the preening in front of her cousin's gold framed mirror. Stars came to life as she walked through the icy night. The wind seemed to weave itself around her as the night followed her every step with its crisp gaze. 


He knew she was looking at his drawings, he knew she had seen him there before.  Starting to feel nervous, he pulled his cuffs over his wrists and turned his thoughts to the dreams.  Every night for a year, he had the same dream. In through the windows it crept and around the bed it stood. Fixed stare on the sleeping form. In through his ears and eyes, the dream formed and swirled. A vision. Colour and dots creating a scene so precious and sacred, he stirs. Suddenly forced into reality he reaches for water, panic and loss in his eyes. It is not meant to be and so he falls. Falling away into another dream, he can see the heavens in his soul. The pieces of the puzzle falling like snowflakes into the sea. melting and changing into a soft foam above the water.  Waking, he reaches for her. the space she used to occupy was now cold and empty but there were still memories of her there. the glass on the table. the picture on the wall above the bed.  The thought of removing them meant forever she was gone. A feeling that brought with it the panics of the dream world, and he couldn't let her go. The gulls outside, breaking the silence, left him searching his mind for the images of her presence, but they too had gone. nothing makes sense now. How could it? he had noone to relate no. noone to listen to his stories or look at his drawings. His inspiration had left him for the sea and the waves.
 
the bar was empty but she hoped that it would be. it seemed strange in a way, that she hadn't thought about staying with him on the train carriage.  She had seen him so often and although they'd never met it was as if she'd known him her whole life.  Pulling off her stole, she ordered a coffee and sat. Waiting. Shomi was always late.  she rested her drink in her hands as she breathed in the richness and warmth. the charaters in the bar hadn't taken much notice as she'd come in and ordered. but now it seems they found her interesting.  Perhaps because she hadn't ordered a beer. Perhaps because she found it more comfortable in the back by herself than at the bar with the rest of them. She shook off doubts that she should have waited in the snow for Shomi before coming in. The deer hunters could have their fun but she didn't want to join them. She reclined deeper into her seat, propping her feet up on the chair opposite and breathing in her coffee, she sighed.  Wondering once more about the boy... she let her thoughts fly. The gulls circled above the bar, their calls echoed in the snow and between the trees. Bouncing off the lake she could hear them. Breaking her thoughts of the drawings and the tattoos. The cheekbones. The smile.  A figure burst through the bar doors, bringing with it a slight snow drift - immediately sparking reactions from the hunters at the bar. The figure hurried over and tossed down the cloak surrounding it. Shomi. Arriving in style, clothed in mysterious darkness. at last!   It had been too long and the friends drank coffee and excitedly explained the deepest of their thoughts and actions from the last few weeks all in a flurry of giggles and hushed tones.  Hours passed and their coffee grew cold and their voices slowed.  neither wanted to admit it was time. Neither needed to let go. It was written in the stars that the cousins were to be close forever. Their mothers had told them. Inseparable from infancy they had known each others thoughts in advance. always plotting and scheming ways to escape the life they knew. but without success. knowing that each of them had a purpose, something beyond their high school, beyond their parents view.  Dawn was nearing, the hunters had long gone and the barman was now busy in the kitchen preparing eggs for his breakfast. They had talked all night, and the thought of sleep was overwhelming each of them. Though neither of them would admit it. These meetings were fleeting and yet necessary for them both. The ground was covered in a fresh fall of snow when they left the bar. Tears and a swift hug and a wave and she was gone again.  Shomi never liked goodbyes, neither of them did. a tabby cat darted in front of the girls as they went their separate ways. She watched as Shomi vanished down the coast path and into the snow. dawn was breaking and the gulls could be heard again but quieter now, coming from the distant ocean swells.  

He could hear the chimes and the bells from where he lay. He didn't want to stir, the morning sun darting in through the skylight. The urge to go outside to smoke was playing on his mind, fighting with the memories of her lying next to him. He was isolated from the world by his melancholy awareness of the secrets that lay in wait. he could sense them coming. breaking down doors and walls, pushing people down in their path, leaving destruction in their wake. The secrets were coming, and faster than he had imagined. He watched the church disappear under a flock of birds as he smoked. He watched the clouds making shapes in the sky. the music drifting through the air from the apartment below. His room was on the top floor, and he was lucky enough to have his own private roof terrace. Access was narrow and  limited and it hadn't been used by the tenants before him. only by chance had they shimmied round past the pipes and damp walls to the other side to see what they could only glimpse from their kitchen window. The space was vast, the size comparable to their whole living space in square footage, but slightly longer. It was the flat-roof space above the apartments below his, and over time they had added plants and decoration to make it their own secret garden. She had positioned rocks and sand there too, and the rake which now stood against the wall. a golden sphere lay in the centre. a blue one just to the side of it, a gift from her. but he didn't know how to use them The knowledge had been passed to her. But she had left before she could teach him the way. All he had left of her was the paintbox and her sketchbook. He needed a drink. The loss had hit him hard, and worse still, he had no idea what to do about her disappearance...

  

 

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