Thursday 25 August 2016

You Already Know

The afternoon sun shone gently through dainty wisps of clouds in the hazy blue sky; the emergence of spring marking its fight against winter’s determination to stay. Country scenery whizzed past as her train cut across it towards London, the grey city.

Denver stared aimlessly out of the window, catching a glimpse of herself from time to time. She really wished she had had her haircut last weekend like she’d planned, instead of giving into her laziness and vegging out in front of the television. Shrugging her shoulders, she subtly shook her head at herself. Reddish brown curls took this opportunity to free themselves from the loose bun Denver had piled on top of her head, and fell forward into her face. Irritated by them tickling her cheeks, she hastily tucked them back in place.

More beautiful landscape rushed past her window, snatching her attention once more. Why did trips like this make her feel so lonely? There was something about looking out and admiring the view that made her so wistful; watching the green space go from roaring hills and fields to the odd playing field the closer they got to the city. They reminded her of trips with him and the many trips she made, back and forth visiting family, without a companion.

It wasn’t that she was nervous about meeting up with him again, it had just been such a long time since they’d last been seen each other. He had called out of the blue and Denver remembered the heat that had rushed to her face as she answered. Okay, not just to her face. Denver fidgeted in her seat at the memory. The passenger next to her coughed loudly and shot a look of annoyance in her direction. He had been like that the entire journey from Bath. Denver wriggled a little more for good measure. 

There was a crash and a clang further along the carriage. Denver noticed everyone around her swivel their heads to look in the direction of the noise. She returned her focus to the window and leaned her head back on the headrest. It was at least another hour before they arrived at Paddington station. 

Oh god, why had she agreed to this again? 


Thursday 18 August 2016

Losing Grip

And so she held her breath once again,
Hoping that the wave of emotion seemingly taking over her body subsided.
She opened her eyes to see flicker of day light;
It felt like she was drowning.

The world around her dipping and swaying,
Pressure pushing hard against her chest, her head swimming in a drunken haze.
She hoped that she'd escaped feeling this again,
That she had control and yet her she was, feeling weightless, helpless.

She kicked her feet hard, praying that it would push her closer to the surface.
Running out of energy to fight;
Her mind began to slip.

Her lungs burned as they fought against a lack of air.
Her senses dulled to nothing;
Slowing but surely losing grip.