Welcome!

 

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the unrefined ramblings of a fool! I’ve been writing for some time but as I’m starting to branch out into more of my own original writing I want to share the random little stories that pop into my head as I write them down. I have no set genre of writing so this will likely be a collection of very random short stories, drabbles, free writing that wafts through my head and manages to make it’s way from my brain to paper to the screen.

Though I’ve been writing for a while I’m relatively new to sharing my writing and always love to share stories with others and hear what they think! Any and all comments are always welcome I can’t expect to improve without a little constructive criticism!

Posting may not be extremely regular especially over the next few months as I’m currently finishing my last year of my undergraduate degree but once finals are over I’m hoping that will pick up!

For now, happy reading,

– Liv.

 

Paper Swords

You think you’re prepared,

You think you know what’s coming.

You know what’s there so you’re not scared,

You can see them running.

 

You pull out your sword to strike a blow,

You stare the beast dead in the eye

But suddenly everything starts to slow

And you don’t understand why.

 

Sword strikes flesh but instead of drawing blood,

Instead of drawing a scream of pain

You’re thrown back into the mud

And it’s laughing at you, as if this is all just a game.

 

Looking down your sword has vanished

Replaced by paper and card,

With one look, with one blow, all your assuredness has been banished.

How did you never realise it would be this hard?

 

Useless, pathetic, lying on the floor,

Watching the battle go on around you.

The person you swore to protect fighting tooth and claw

Whilst despite the sweat on your brow you really don’t have a clue.

 

You’ve tried and failed

Every weapon turning to dust as you strike.

None made a dent, nothing prevailed,

Every blow deflected alike.

 

You don’t know how, you don’t know when,

But suddenly he’s gone and the sky is clear.

And she is there, safe and sound again.

But it was nothing you did, nothing you said, and you wonder why you were even here?

 

Did I make a difference, even a little bit?

Because my darling I don’t know if I even saw you make a hit.

You struck the beast dead and I don’t even know when

But the one thing I do know is that you will do it again.

Because you’re stronger than you think; you’re stronger than you know.

And I know that you don’t want me to go.

But did you really need me here?

Or was I just there to quell your fear

Whist you did battle with the monster under your bed

And vanquished the demons inside your head.

 

Monsters

You can feel the vibrations under your skin, raising every hair

Warning you that something or someone is there.

 

They’ve crept into your room at the dead of night

With the sole intention of giving you a fright.

 

You can feel them breathing down the back of your neck

As those dark monsters begin to get closer step by step.

 

Their fingers tip toe up your skin

Just to remind you that they’ve broken in.

 

You’re not safe, you’re not alone

And suddenly you’re chill to the bone.

 

As your heart rate begins to climb

Suddenly you’re out of time.

 

They’re here they’re in your head

And slowly the panic begins to spread.

 

Can’t think can hardly breath can’t even see,

Wondering if you’ll ever be free

From the torment your own mind has created;

Will the monsters ever be sated?

Ink Spots

There are some things you only notice at the dead of night,

Like how the sky is not black but full of light,

It’s purple paint and blue ink

Filled with glittering ghosts, whole worlds looking down at you and throwing you a little wink.

 

 

Ineffable

Warmth in the chill, soft light breaking through the trees. Quietly linked, small smiles shining, two girls walk through the woods.

One pink one blue, one light one dark, two halves of one whole. Delicate threads that weave together to form that fragile glowing bond as love is made of, here where the weights and chains and hooks of expectation are hung between lovers, there is only light. These threads are not weighed down with the heat of bodily need as yours are. Free from physical want pure silks are woven into a knot that binds, holding the two together through wind and rain and fire.

Where two souls meet the puzzle is complete and the two girls wander, one spirit searching the woods not for a final destination, but simply for the next delight, for the next game to take flight, for the next smile or simply to race the next mile. For all is innocence when one can find the other half that they shall never again leave behind.

Torn asunder

Screaming, shouting, waves roaring,

Hitting the shore with an almighty crash.

Limbs trembling, blood pumping, heart-rate soaring

As sand tares at skin like road rash.

 

Bugs crawling, scuttling up skin and biting

As the world spins out of control.

No where to go, no where to hide from the fighting

Whilst the world turns black as cole.

 

Silence now, heavy and suffocating,

Sucking the light from the world

So that all that’s left is a black aching

In your soul. And as that empty feeling unfirled

You are left to wonder,

How is it your world so quickly has been torn asunder?

It’s not my fault…

It’s not my fault you don’t understand,

That you’re so blind you couldn’t see

That inside, all this time I’ve been drowning.

All I’ve done is set myself free

Not from you but from the constant howling

Of every fibre of my mind screaming to tell me that this was always wrong.

 

It’s not my fault you don’t understand,

That we never worked, it’s as simple as that.

You said it was okay, you said it was fine,

But I knew you’d run at the drop of a hat

If you could see the waves crashing at the shoreline

And the constant trembling of my brain

As it sought shelter from the rain.

 

It’s not my fault you don’t understand,

That life is not a fairytale, life is not a book.

These are not problems you can fix

It is what it is and I think that if you look,

If you really see, you’ll find it was only ever a trick

Of the light of the moment.

 

 

 

The Show Must Go On

Bleak. Weak. Going through the day trying to get a peak

At the other side.

Trying to hide the feelings that rise up inside my mind.

Tossing, churning, concealing it all with a smile

When all the while, all I want to do is cry.

Trying my best, despite the mess, to keep my eyes dry.

Can’t eat, can’t sleep, can hardly stand straight on my own two feet.

This is not what I planned,

This is not how I thought it would go.

But then again life is just a show.

We’re all just smiling and crying

Living and dying;

Just trying to find a way around

The feeling that are trying to drag us down.

Because of her

Black. Dark. Cold. Shivering tears.

Dirt crumbles. Small noises. She lifts her head.

Weak, drained, stiff limbs uncurl.

More dirt, falling tumbling, crumbling.

Light. Faint. Dusty but strong, squeezing itself through small gaps.

Wide eyes. Disbelief. Can it be?

Gentle fingers. Calming touches. Doors opened.

White. Bright. Blinding. Too much?

Gentle coaxing and calm tones lead to tentative steps.

Grass, soft under foot, tickling the toes. Clean air. Lungs full. Hands still.

Sun, warm and soft, wrapping it’s arm around her.

Light. Safe. Calm because of her.

Kairos

{| So this was a bit of free writing I did the other night, inspired by the word “kairos”, meaning, ‘a perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for actions words of movements’. I hope you enjoy. Do let me know what you think!|}

 

7th September, 1909.

Fleeting touches; trembling fingers; the nervous shivering reverence of stolen glances; whispered words full of awkward half formed feelings; these filled the snatched hours and half hours we smuggled selfishly when we could. Sonnets never quite finished; stories left untold, the secrecy of our early days smothered us. Smothered me. It’s suffocating still. I can’t breathe. I want to scream, scream of what is silenced by the stifling scriptures of society. The irony is that it’s that silence which keeps her safe now. I have no choice. The shadows are our home. To come out into the light, it would only burn, burn her.

I can’t help but think it wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always feel so… utterly helpless. There was a time when I was content, content to be blind, deaf and dumb to it all. But then again, there wasn’t always her. She was like waking up. She was colour, clear sound, the sun on my face and the sound of rain on the window. She was all the tiny details I had never noticed. She brought everything into focus.

And now where am I? I am in the cold. I am in the dark. The hairs on the backs of my arms stands to attention, saluting the misery of this cold stone room as I shiver and as my stomach aches. Oh how it aches, pleading with me, begging me. But I will not. I cannot. I must stay strong. I must not let them down.

My sole comfort, sitting alone in this greyness, is that it is not for nought. It is not in vain. I am here for a cause, a just, noble and brave cause at that. I am here because I am fighting. Fighting for what is right, but for what is not yet¬†our right. And I am here, keeping her safe. I am here so that she does not have to be. And that thought, that brings me comfort. I know I needn’t worry for her. She will not mourn my being here, just as I do not resent such indignities as I suffer now. The brutality of the guards, the tube they attempt to shove down my throat. It all means nothing to me. We both knew the risks. We both undertook our tasks willingly and it is mere luck, luck and I must say, quick thinking on my part, that lands me here and her safe at home. It could so easily have been the other way around. I would not have her suffer like this. She who looks so delicate, but who has a ferocity equal to that of any, equal perhaps even to her beloved Boudicca herself.

I have told myself I shall not cry. I will not allow myself. I cannot disappoint her in such a way. I must remain strong. I must remain steadfast. But it is cold, and the woman next door to me is crying. The sound seems to fill every particle of the air, leaking under the door and through the cracks in the stones. I want to, but I shan’t. I shall not. I have one thing to comfort me. One thing they cannot take away from from me. Images I shall never forget, of her, of our meeting. And it is with those, that for now, I shall comfort myself with.

Midnight Blue

{Blurb: A short stage play that I wrote as part of the Brighton Festival a few years ago. The show was written by a group of writers who all wrote a five minute play that was inspired by a different place around the Theatre Royal in Brighton. My setting was the front lobby and the staircase. This is the little play I wrote for it; it’s very short as you can see but it was a pleasure of a piece to write! It’s set during the late 1930s and looks at a snapshot of a relationship between two women and their relationship, taking into consideration the struggles that the time placed on a homosexual relationship. Happy reading I hope you enjoy! Do let me know what you think in the comments!}

CEE ENTERS AHEAD OF EVELYN. SHE IS TALL WITH WILD CURLS THAT HAVE BEEN PINNED AND RESTRAINED INTO A RESPECTABLE NEAT HAIRSTYLE OF THE INTERWAR PERIOD. THOUGH SHE IS BEAUTIFUL SHE SEEMS TO GIVE LESS CARE AS TO HER APPEARANCE THAN HER LOVER, WHOSE GLAMOROUS APPEARANCE IS EVIDENCE  OF HER ATTENTION TO THE DETAILS OF HOW SHE LOOKS AND THE OUTWARD APPEARANCE THAT SHE PRESENTS TO THE WORLD. SHE WATCHES CEE CAUTIOUSLY AS THE OTHER WOMAN TAKES OFF HER HAT, COAT, AND FINALLY TUGS OFF HER GLOVES ROUGHLY, TOSSING THEM WITH HER COAT OVER THE BANISTER. CEE LIGHTS UP A LITTLE CIGARILLO FROM HER SILVER CASE AND SITS, SMOKING IN SILENCE, NOT LOOKING AT EVELYN. STILL WATCHING HER, EVELYN EMOVES HER HAT AND COAT MORE SLOWLY AND FOLDS THEM NEATLY OVER THE BANISTER, STILL HOLDING HER GLOVES IN HER HANDS, TWISTING THEM SLIGHTLY. SHE HAS THE AIR OF A WOMAN WHO IS DESPERATELY TRYING TO MAINTAIN THE ILLUSION OF NORMALITY.

EVELYN

Well I’d say that was a rather successful trip. Should help replenish my wardrobe at least.

CEE

So you do speak.

EVELYN

Sorry? Didn’t catch that.

CEE

I said yes, I’m sure it will.

EVELYN.

I’m not sure I got everything I needed though. I could have used a few more blouses. Perhaps another evening gown.

CEE

There were plenty to choose from.

EVELYN

They weren’t quite right.

CEE

Well you know which one I liked.

EVELYN

(Beat)

Yes… Well… Like I said, it wasn’t quite right.

CEE

(Slightly challenging now.)

What was wrong with it?

EVELYN

It just, didn’t hang right.

CEE

Then you should have tried the others.

EVELYN

What?

CEE

Well you ran out of the store before you had even finished trying them all on. If you needed another you should have picked one.

EVELYN.

Well… I didn’t run exactly…

CEE

No you didn’t just run. You positively sprinted. Your feet hardly touched the ground.

(There is a short silence, neither speaking, Cee smoking.)

CEE

Look at me

EVELYN

Sorry?

CEE

You haven’t looked at me since this morning. Look at me.

EVELYN

(She looks at her.)

I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I must have looked at you at some point.

CEE

Are we really going to do this Evie?

EVELYN

What do you mean? Do what?

CEE

Are we really going to pretend that nothing is the matter? That nothing is wrong?

EVELYN

There is nothing the matter Cee I’m perfectly fine

CEE

(Stubs out her cigarillo before speaking)

Please don’t insult me by lying to me Evelyn. I can always tell. I always could.

(Both are quiet for a moment as Cee waits for Evelyn to speak but she does not.)

CEE

You haven’t so much as looked at me all afternoon. You’ve been vacant when I have tried to talk to you. You’ve flinched when I have so much as touched you. What have I done Evie?

EVELYN

If I tell you, you must promise not to be angry.

CEE

I’m sure whatever it is I have done won’t be cause for anger.

EVELYN

But I think you might. You always do …

CEE

Evie don’t be silly. If I have done something to upset you why would I be angry?

EVELYN

Please. Just promise.

CEE

Alright I promise. Now tell me, please; I’m beginning to worry.

EVELYN

In Selfridges, when I was trying on the evening gowns… You made a comment that so obviously implied so much more than friendship.

CEE

(Cee cannot help but laugh bitterly. She has heard this all before and it’s a tiresome argument that they have had countless times and it is beginning to grow wearisome.)

My god

EVELYN

You’re laughing

CEE

Because I am trying so very very hard to keep my promise. For God’s sake Evelyn not this again!

EVELYN

Not what

CEE

You know perfectly well what.

EVELYN

I’m sorry

CEE

This god damn melodrama about being ‘found out’

EVELYN

Please. You promised you wouldn’t get angry.

CEE

And I wouldn’t be if your paranoia were justified for once.

EVELYN

It isn’t paranoia if the danger is real…

CEE

You do this every time. And it’s always my fault. Some innocent action of mine which your terrified mind, ruled by dying concepts of propriety, criminalises without any justification!

EVELYN

I care about what people think Cee. I get worried. I can’t help it.

CEE

Tell me then. What have I done this time? Did I look at you too fondly? Did I say something a little too kind? Or, God forbid, did I touch you? Tell me, what small insignificant display of affection did I succumb to this time?

EVELYN

It wasn’t small

CEE

Enlighten me then. What exactly did I do to make myself so obvious?

EVELYN

The dress. The midnight blue one.

CEE

(laughs bitterly)

That? That one tiny comment? My goodness don’t you think you might be overreacting somewhat? That was hardly a declaration of love.

EVELYN.

Overreacting? Cee you might as well have shouted it across the room.

CEE

Why? Because I whispered a compliment under my breath? Because I told you that a dress looked nice on you? I’m surprised you even heard it.

EVELYN

We both know that ‘nice’ wasn’t your word of choice.

CEE

You’re angry with me because I told you you looked beautiful? So did all the damn shop girls Evelyn, does that make them inverts too?

EVELYN

No of course not… It’s just… It was the way that you said it, and the look on your face. Your feelings were abundantly clear.

CEE

I’m sorry. Could you see my pupils dilate? Could you hear my heart rate increase? There are some things that even I can’t control and the anatomical changes that occur when I look at the woman I love, is one of them.

EVELYN.

You know perfectly well that is not what I meant.

CEE

Damn it this is ridiculous. You are so desperate to act ‘normal’ around me that you act cold. Like you don’t care at all. Like you are merely tolerating me like dirt on your shoe.

EVELYN

I care about what people might think. About what they might say. I don’t like the idea of people talking and spreading stories.

CEE

What cause do they have to talk? What have I ever done that would give rise to gossip and rumour? I have never done anything to warrant that.

EVELYN

I get paranoid. I can’t understand how you don’t. Don’t you ever worry about causing a scandal? About having our names plastered all over the tabloids?

CEE

No. And as I recall, you have caused far greater scandals with your late husband than you ever have with me.

(There is a short silence as both women take a moment to collect themselves)

CEE

You do it every time. You won’t look at me, you won’t speak to me, you won’t touch me. It’s terrifying because I never know what I have done. How is that fair?

EVELYN

It isn’t.

CEE

Then why? Please tell me because I really do not understand.

EVELYN

(She stares resolutely at her shoes. She knows the other woman is right and it’s not fair how she treats her, but she can’t help it)

I worry… I worry about what people think.. About what they say

CEE

So you keep saying. But what should it matter? It’s not illegal. We’re not going to be locked up. Let people gossip and giggle. What does it matter what they think or say? What real harm can gossip do? All that matters is how we feel. All that matters is that we love each other.

EVELYN

It isn’t that simple Cee.

CEE

Why? I love you and you love me? Why would you be ashamed of that?

EVELYN.

But I am. I’m ashamed of it all. Of our past, of my weakness in coming back to you. Of loving you. Because I know that I shouldn’t. This house, it’s like a bubble. It separates us, protects us from the outside world. We can hide; hide from their gossip and their judgemental stairs and their snide remarks as we pass them in the streets. In here, none of that exists, and yes, for a time it is blissful. And I’m happy. And I couldn’t care jot what other people think. But it’s not the real world Cee. It can’t last, because as soon as we step out of those doors… We are exposed. When those doors open it’s like… Its like they let in the light and it changes the way everything looks. In here, all of our faults are hidden. Like our lives are lit by candlelight, and I can’t see all the cracks, all the marks because everything is hidden in this picturesque romantic glow and it hides it all away. But as soon as those doors open, and the light is shone on us as we are showcased for all the world to see and gossip about, I can see them. All of them. All the cracks and all the marks that show me we are wrong.

(Cee is stunned into silence. Evelyn appears to be holding back tears as she looks at her lover, desperate for her to speak though for once, Cee doesn’t know what to say.)

CEE

You… Are ashamed to love me?

EVELYN

Yes. Not all the time, not in the moment. But when I step out of those doors, yes.

CEE

(She is crying now, tears rolling down her face as she looks at her.)

Then why come back? Why bother if all you were going to do is force us to repeat our previous tragedy?

(Evelyn does not reply. She doesn’t know the answer to this question. When she realises she isn’t going to speak, Cee runs out of the door. Only when she has disappeared does Evelyn allow herself to start crying, and she breaks down.)