That’s how she described him. He certainly fitted the description. Washboard stomach,deep chest,not too deep,mind. Small firm rear end. Broad,but not too broad shoulders,just the way she liked them. Add to that,that smouldering look he could give her,that thrilled her to her toes.
        The mop of slickly combed back dark hair,the little bit of stubble,and sunken cheeks,indicating his physical fitness. If this was heaven,she was certainly in it now,and didn’t want it to end. But she knew it would soon be over. He was just one in a long line of customers. Soon he would leave,and head back to his wife,or family,she was unsure which. She never probed into her customer’s lives. That’s why they keep coming back. She was providing a service,and it was a good service. She prided herself on her work,and keeping her customers satisfied.
             Was she happy,who knows,who cares. They didn’t really care about her happiness,or welfare. Some did treat her right. Some were kind,others off hand and at times brutal. But she had to see them all,that was the game. He left the swanky apartment,after putting the payment in an envelope and leaving it on the marble and glass covered dresser. She knew she could trust him,not to cheat her,there was no need to check the contents like she would have to with some of her other customers.
               He bent down to where she lay on the cream coloured silk sheets,and gently kissed her on the cheek. She wanted so much more from him,but doubted it would ever be. What was she nothing more than a…..no,she couldn’t bring herself to say,let alone think those thoughts. Those ugly,disparaging words that would conjure up images she could not bear to entertain,not even for a moment.

She was a lady,like some others,who from time to time,helped men with there relationships. That’s as far as she would allow herself to be described. After he left,she got up from the bed,and walked to the large expanse of glass,overlooking the sparkling lights of the city. Isolated from the sounds. In the subdued lighting of the expensive apartment,the glass cruelly reflected back to her what she was,standing in her beige silken nightgown.Cigarette in one hand,the ever present glass of wine in the other. She dared not even look into her own eyes. She knew what she was,and what she had become. Sickened and disgusted with herself,she threw the half filled glass of wine hard against the glass,and watched as it disintegrated and fell to the black and grey marble floor. The white wine slowly flowing down the pristine windows.
                       She knew where to find it if she wanted. But didn’t really want to go down that track.It offered solace and sustenance,an escape from a life not wanted. But it had its costs,in terms of finance,of danger,health risks,of associating with less than honest,and upfront people. He had left some in the drawer,inviting her to partake of its warm enveloping glow,of security and happiness,but she had refused. Always refused,until now.Was tonight’s the night when she was to be drawn into that world. It was the loud ringing of the phone that woke her from her thoughts.

                      ‘Well’,he demanded,’where is it ? it better be there when I call tonite’.

She hated him,the sound of his voice,his look,his accent. She hated everything and anything about him. She threw the phone down in disgust. But she knew he would soon be calling,as he did every few days to collect the takings. Then their would be the forced,unwanted love making,which she pretended to enjoy,to save herself another beating,and glorify his manhood.
             Trapped was just about covered her situation. No way out that was clear to her. She was like so many other of her countrywomen drawn in by tales of wealth and freedom. All it required was to deliver one little package. That’s all that was needed. She didn’t ask about the contents. She did not need to ask.  Poverty,and a desire to look after her daughter’s welfare,are what drove her to take the steps she took.
          Now she dreamed of a better life. A life filled with genuine love,happiness,and most of all freedom. She lay back on the bed and once again considered her options,as she had many times before. The thought of carrying on like this forever more,none too appealing. 

Suicide off the agenda. She had to be there for her growing daughter. She was indebted to him,any escape planned by her would lead to repercussions for her family and young daughter all those thousands of miles away,in the city of her birth. But escape was what she was going to do,one way or the other. Her sleep was broken and intermittent. As her mind considered her limited options. The incessant,non stop ringing of the apartment bell was what awoke her. Her stomach jumped,as the butterflies were released in her body. Her legs shook slightly. The familiar feelings of fear. She knew by such actions who it was,and the mood was going to be less than good. She walked to the intercom and let him in,and prepared herself for the un- pleasant interaction she was about to have. Thinking of her daughter,she painted on a broad smile,and opened the cream coloured front door,awaiting his arrival.

He swaggered into the apartment,fully fitting the description of the young,cocky South American criminal on the make,and determined to make it big. The light white suit,sunglasses in the top pocket. The blue silk shirt,slightly open,of course,and the tan alligator skin shoes. The swirling of the overhead fan the only noise in the apartment. She studied his face,the dark plump features,under the mop of curly hair. At first glance,he could have being mistaken for a kind man,but his cold,empty and calculating eyes gave his intentions away.
             Sleazy,a slime ball was how she silently described him,in her own mind. He brushed past her to the drinks cabinet,and poured himself a large whisky. Drank it down with speed,and rapidly refilled the glass. Turning his attention to her,he grabbed her hand and pulled her roughly towards the bedroom,no words being said. He was of course nothing more than an ignorant brute. Devoid of compassion and gentleness. An empty,loveless physical coming together followed. It was totally meaningless. She felt more as a woman,with her paying clients. When the ordeal was over,she moved away from the bed,while he slept,exhausted and drained by his laughable attempts at lovemaking,and the large amount of alcohol he had ingested.
            She was well aware of his increasing consumption of the magical white powder,and had seen the effects it had on his already volatile character. Given time,she prayed,if he took enough,hopefully it might be the end of him,and a road to freedom for her. But she didn’t want to wait for life to work the way she wished.
     She reached for her small handbag,she opened and withdrew the syringe she had been saving. Walked to the dresser that contained the bags of white powder,she opened one. Her breathing was rapid,and she tried to keep it silent. Least she wake the beast. Her hands shook slightly,and her fingers struggled to open the bag,but without the finesse she had practiced with,when alone. She glanced back at the bed,to ensure he was still sleeping,and satisfied that he was,she continued. Pouring water into the glass tumbler,she added the white powder and mixed it swiftly together with her fingers. Dipped the needle of the syringe into the glass,and retrieved the syringe when it was overflowing with the deadly concoction.
          It would be easy enough to explain. Possibly believable to others,the cause of his forthcoming death. Just another drug using South American criminal,overdosing on his own produce. Simple,right …..In the semi darkness of the lavishly appointed bedroom,she watched his tanned stout belly rise and fall. Sickened by his ugly grunting and snorting as he slept uneasily,much like an unattractive farmyard animal. Well this was it,the time was now. Her heart softened as she thought of her young daughter and how she loved her. The taste of freedom within her reach. Freedom from men she did not like,nor care for. Freedom from being used,from any who had the means to pay for it. Freedom from feelings of filth and self hate she become so accustomed to.
                            Holding the deadly syringe she moved quietly across the plush cream coloured carpet,stood  by the side of the double bed. Examined his bare chest,and studied her target,just below his heart,is he had one, would be. Her head dizzy with excitement and fear,her own heart beating loud,hard and rapidly in her chest.Her body in overdrive,adrenaline,fear,victory.excitement surging through every vein and organ she possessed,freedom within her grasp,and then……nothing.

The silence. The hot burning sensation in her chest. Her breathing slowing down. The unpleasant gurgling sound of the open wound,struggling for air. The damp red liquid,beginning to seep through her silk nightgown. She fell forward onto the bed,he roughly pushed her off,and onto the floor. He put the gun down on the bedside cabinet,the silencer masking it’s deadly deed. He was if nothing else a practiced criminal,and he never slept without it,never. It had saved his skin on more times than he could remember. Between that and never trusting anybody,ever,well……he would live to see another day.

As for her,laying on the plush carpet,life energy slowly leaving her body. Her soul preparing for its final journey. She thought of her daughter all those miles away,and once again her thoughts softened. She glanced out the large expanse of glass overlooking the shimmering lights of the city. At last she would soon be free.

Written in response to the Daily Prompt : Buff.





           She used to be radiant,effervescent,bubbly,call it what you will. That was before. Her self esteem was high,she was enjoying life. Happy just to be alive.
                                         It was a lot more serious here,behind the barbed wire,the uniformed guards,the high walls,the vicious attack dogs. One day slowly dragging into another. Bored beyond belief. Nothing to do,and all day to do it in. Sitting alone in her prison cell,staring at the freshly painted white walls,knowing full well it would not take long for them to become covered in less than polite graffiti once again.

She looked about her cell,that had been her home for quite some time,and may be for quite some time to come. The stainless steel open toilet,no privacy,of course. Two bunks and a sink. The two foot square window,with the toughened glass,high up the rear wall. Too high and out of reach to see out of. This was home,for the time being.
                  She lay on the top bunk,grateful at least that her prison cell mate and she got along,reasonably well,at least most of the time. But she like everyone here,who wasn’t in for life was just counting down the days,to freedom. Whether she may end up back in a place such as this again,was certainly up for question. What would life hold for her on the outside.would it be any better,she often wondered. She often contemplated the crimes the other inmates she came across had committed to have landed them in such a place. But she had learned the hard way,and had the scars to prove it.
                                    Best not to ask inquisitive questions,here,of others. If they wish to share aspects of their lives they will,and if not,well……..Grateful at least the battleship grey heavy cell doors were left open throughout the day,so the guards could keep an eye on the inmates. Prisons are surprisingly busy places throughout the day. With inmates coming and going,new arrivals and departures. Some attending court,a chance of freedom. Others attending hospital for illness,or as a result of an overdose,or a violent assault. Mealtimes. A lot of movement. Prison guards rushing at times to various incidents to be dealt with. But come night time,eight pm,in prison terms,the doors were banged shut with a resounding clank. Half an hour later,lights out. This was human brutality to her. No television,no internet. No privacy. Then the screaming,of the many others trapped,the mentally unstable,the swearing begins. A nightly ritual. The feelings of being trapped,unable to escape. Her freedom in the hands of others. These were the times when her breathing became rapid,fast. Her fists clenched as she twisted and turned on the top bunk. Trapped like an animal,she so wanted to break free.

Not surprising so many others had turned to illicit drugs and medications to escape,at least in their minds. A relief for some,for sure. She had turned to religion,at least it was a chance to interact with people from outside the prison population. It was a change from the ongoing boredom to attend the weekly meetings of the Jehovah Witnesses who came every Sunday. They seemed quiet pleasant,decent people,and she certainly did enjoy asking them the hard questions,on God,on life,injustice,redemption and retribution,which they at times struggled to answer.
                       At times,in the semi darkness of her cell,out of fear,loneliness and fragility,she had softly approached her cell mates bunk,and sat and watched her as she slept. She had a deep beauty,it was evident beneath the brutal harsh exterior she wore like a mask throughout the day. A mask of protection,as was needed in such a place. Signs of weakness,jumped upon instantly,and for the duration of the prison term,making prison life a lot more uncomfortable than it had to be.

It was the fear,it was the seeking of human comfort. It was that emptiness in the soul,that finally brought them together. That first soft touch,so welcoming,so soothing,for both. She did not fully trust her,as she knew little of the reasons she was in this place,so she was always weary of her. But the desire,the need for human comfort. To be held,to be loved,had over ridden such concerns.
                Together they planned his downfall,as they held each other softly,in the darkness of that brutal locked cell. They laughed as they imagined how it would play out. He had stolen her effervesce,her radiance,the brightness that once shone within her.
                           But slowly she could feel her radiance,her joy,at living life,even in a place such at this,returning. She had from time to time found herself actually laughing,and smiling. Gestures which had long being absent from her life,when she was involved with him. Maybe she had concluded,life has a funny way of working out in the end. Out of some chaotic situations,some good can come. She had found,if not love,at least comfort with another. There joint plans of revenge,and his proposed forthcoming glorious downfall,giving a reason for living,to continue to press on for freedom.
                       Whether their future plans would lead to be imprisoned again,was yet to be seen. What was needed for now was much patience. Some say revenge is a fool’s game,but to her,nothing tasted sweeter.


Written in response to : Daily Prompt.




 Via https://pixabay.com/en/users/esudroff-627167


Was it really her voice calling to him,as he walked along the claustrophobic valley,at the foot of the steep cliff faces on both sides,rising high.Bleak and desolate,not a sound.

                                                                                   ‘Come home’.the voice called.He tried to laugh it off,but could not.He knew he was tired.He had been walking for hours,even though it felt like weeks.Searching for a way,the way back.He was certainly going to argue with her,when he found her,if ever he would.

                                                                                                             The blazing sun weakening his body.The perspiration damp on his forehead and neck.The light grey khaki shirt sticking to his back.It seemed impossible.Unsure how much more of this he could take.The absolute silence.The blazing heat.The physical weakness,and now strange voices calling to him,from invisible people.

                                  It was greed,pure and simple that had taken them to this Godforsaken place.This God awful country.This not a third world country,more a fifth world country.How he so wished he was back in civilization.Back in London,city of his birth.Even though at times he had complained bitterly about the cost of living in the city.The noise,the overbearing traffic,and way too many people.What he would give to be there now.

                                                                                    ‘Come home’,the invisible voice called again.He looked around behind him.He scanned the sheer cliffs to his left and right.His eyes following them as they reached high into the clear blue sky,but nothing,and no one to be seen.How he hated her for bringing him,no,forcing him to come to this damn country,far from normality,all in the name of money,and wealth.The usual in her case.The same grasping attitude.Greedily chasing after wealth.It was never ending.Some like her would never be satisfied,no matter how much they had accrued.They would always be grasping after more.Their greed and thirst was unquenchable.

                                                                                                              He was even unsure what had attracted him in the first place.Of course the shapely figure.That sweet smile.That charming personality.Like any normal man he was drawn in.But he had decided that once this was sorted,he would be waving goodbye to her.There had to be easier ways of moving through life.Here he was like a fool,searching for her.Having no idea where she was, even if she was still alive.Silently wishing she was dead,and now voices calling to him.

                      Tired beyond belief,he sat on a nearby rock.The blazing sun,sapping him of energy.He eagerly bent forward to the merger water filled hole,and greedily splashed his face with the warm water.Ingesting as much as he could.It had been at least three days since he had eaten solid food.Having had his fill,he moved from the blazing sun,and sat in the shade by the foot of the cliff.Grateful to rest.his body weak,his eyes resisting the his struggle to keep them open.His sleep was deep.The dream intriguing.He could see her clearly in his dream.In her designer clothing,totally unsuitable for the sweltering heat.The prime white cotton blouse,now torn and sullied with the dirt of the earth.The expensive designer blue jacket,looking so out of place in the cave.The expensive bracelets on her wrists,still sparkling in the darkness of the cave,as the rays of the sunlight touched upon them.

                                                                           He looked at her hands,which were locked in a harsh grip around the prize she had chased.The blue diamonds and sapphires were so sharp and clear,glistening as the sun touched upon them.The snakes,guardians of the diamond encrusted cave,slithered over her body.Pecking at the veins in her neck.moving down,stopping to sink their fangs into the insides of her wrists,gorging on the sumptuous flesh.Others,taking it in turns to gorge on the soft skin of her once beautiful face,as they slithered away,through her long mousy brown hair,and into the darkened corners of the cave,from where they had come.

                                                                     He looked down from where he was viewing her,and saw her eyes wide and smiling,as she held the sapphire and diamond encrusted jewels in her hands.At least she was happy.His breathing became soft,barely audible,as his body began to close down.The blazing sun,overhead,offering no respite from it’s sweltering heat.


Inspired by a writing prompt : Echoes.


















The Watcher….

Coffe shop

He watched them through the coffee shop window. Envy and anger carousing through his veins. Not even trying to hide his anger. It was more than evident through his piercing hate filled eyes,the tightly held hands. Perhaps he should not have followed,but he had to know. For his own satisfaction.
                          The passing traffic all a blur,as he watched them intently. The more they laughed together the more the chemical concoction in his stomach began to engage. The butterflies released,the rapid,gruff shallow breathing. The heartbeat growing quicker,harder,louder in his chest. The more they moved physically closer together,the more he wanted to run from his viewing position,and attack them violently. His jaw beginning to clench tightly. The waitress behind the counter eyed him with fear,from her position. She knew from experience when to steer clear of customers and when to approach. She decided to wait until he was gone,to clear tables in that area of the shop.

                           He glanced down at the most recent tattoo on his forearm,what a waste was his conclusion. ’Together Forever’,there two names enshrined inside a heart,shot through with an arrow. I don’t think so.Perhaps another tattoo may appear soon,how about ,’Dead Soon’,or ‘Betrayed and Devastated’,and an open coffin,and a knife dripping with blood. Yeah,that would seem so much more suitable,and honest. The piped music of the coffee shop,barely breaking his consciousness today. The banging and clanking of other customers cups,and plates,there inane chatter,hardly irritating him today,as they usually would have done. His mind was in a calculating revengeful mode. Inflicting human pain on another was where his mind was at. Psychological,physical pain. The desire to scar,to burn,to injure another. The way he was burning,and scared,wounded from the betrayal,and treachery unfolding before him.

                         Loyalty,honesty,being open. How they had spoken,and agreed of the importance of these characteristics in a lover. He was so happy to have found another who shared his beliefs and values. This was his first time being with another man. He had tried long and hard to hide  his true sexuality from himself,with alcohol,illicit drugs,one night stands with willing,drunken loose women. But they meant little to him,although he had become fond of some of these women,but deep down,he knew what he was.
               He had given his heart,his soul,and it was taken greedily by that older and much more experienced man,he of the religious order. The man he had turned to for spiritual guidance to sooth his troubled mind. Trying to understand his thoughts,feelings,the strange sexual desires he had fantasied about,in the privacy of his own mind. In the darkness of the night,which had at times sickened and disgusted him. He had turned to the Church,where else would a good Catholic boy turn to. Suicide was off the agenda. He wanted revenge,to hurt,to destroy another. He briefly considered embarking on an affair of his own,but concluded that his partner,now soon to be ex partner,seemed too hardened and callous to be affected to much degree by such an action.

                                                           He considered reporting the priest to the religious hierarchy,or to the Police. He was,after all still considered a child in the eyes of the law. Or to the newspapers. But events such as these were no longer the scandalous incidents they once were. He was aware at times how dismissive,and disbelieving the Police were of such events. How uncaring,and disinterested that God’s,so called representatives on earth could be.
      He reached into his pocket searching for them. Relieved to find he still had them,he rubbed the plastic packet containing the small white tablets between his fingers. So glad now he had not disposed of them. At least they would not be wasted. He would watch with pleasure and interest as they took effect on his partner later that evening. That non smoking,teetotaler,that fitness freak.
                       When his mind and body had being overtaken by the effects of the illicit tablets,well he was  anybody’s really.  To do with as they wished……….


Written in response to a photo prompt seen here : http://creativewriting.ie/writing-prompts/

What the cat don’t know…..



What the cat don’t know……
That one day he will die
That it’s highly unlikely he will ever learn to fly
That even if he smiles, I will never know
That he is unlikely to get a university degree
That he will never perform opera on tv
That he will never need to write out a cv
That generally speaking he and dogs will not get along
That one day he is never, ever gonna compose a song
That his owner, is generally quiet negative regarding the cat
That he will never drive a car, a ship or plane
That he will never attend psychotherapy for psychological pain
That generally speaking he is so laid back, it’s untrue
That many humans would love to be so laid back too
That he has no clue what life is like
That humans suffer from some type of strife, if not daily,at least weekly,right ……
That he don’t relasise how lucky he is to be a cat
That he is loved just for that
That is except for the times when he is blamed, for whatever is in the insane owner’s, mind of pain
That one day he may capture that bird, and eat him alive, without being too perturbed
That he may lick his lips after such a feast, pretending he wasn’t such a beast
That we as humans would turn a blind eye, but still worry unconsciously about such a monstrosity
That is living within our mists
That we would consider getting rid of it, in a moment of haste, for such a display violent intent
That outraged, as we were, that there no sequiturs used to deconstruct that poor bird
That to view such an event, made some of us squeal
That made us think we could perhaps get a better deal at the pet shop
That many times animals are preferred over humans, cause at least animals make some sense, as for humans well……..




We’re in debt,right in over our heads
Our cash is running out,we feel like we gotta shout
Will anyone listen,will anyone care
Will the banks not listen,or just put their noses in the air
Ignore our despair

This real make no mistake
At this rate we’re going to have to leave our home
March out the bloody gate

How has it come to this,how did it go so all amiss
What’s become of our home,that’s meant to be an oasis of bliss
Now it’s full of worry,tensions and angry moods
Blame and recriminations,on which we all brood

Where’s God when you need him,to give you a dig out
Ain’t no sign of him coming,even when you shout
Scream and cry,in the darkness of the night

What’s going to happen,where we going to go
This I can’t answer,this I don’t know
How can life be so hard,you sometimes ask
It’s a mystery to me,I feel all lost at sea

To go back renting at this stage of life
This ain’t how I saw my older life going,having all this strife
Why ain’t I a millionaire,why is life so unfair
How has it come to this,as my hand forms into a fist
As once again,I bang the table in my frustration and despair

The future don’t look rosy,and that’s the honest truth
It looks kinda scary,and uncertain up the road
Why has God chose us to carry such a heavy load
Is he cruel,is he just mean.Why am I even asking this of someone
Nobody ain’t never seen

How can I concentrate,be all happy,smiling and keen
I’m so worried now,most probably I’m looking kinda mean
It’s a hiatus here at present,we don’t know what’s going on
But we ain’t that delighted that we’re going to burst into song

Cause life again can quickly go so very wrong
Have to wait and see for now,how it’s going to turn out




Black Lives Matter 2016.

black lives matter

Black Lives Matter……2016.