Tattoo by SimGrysn@aol.com
I can only hear the sound of a computer keyboard being tapped. I cannot see. I am blind. He is my lover, he writes for me... I tell him my thoughts.
I hear the sound of her voice and it still excites me after all these years. She is my lover, and I listen to what she has to say.
"She is to be called Etta Stripster... and the sky will be her lake of fire!"
Kirsten Wellar dictates across the dimly lit study. There was no answer...
"Are you alright Tim?" The room had fell silent. He hesitates, just for a moment, "Yeah... Just thinking."
"Now what have I told you about that Tim Theressey? You know its not good for you!" Kirsten teases him before letting out a naughty schoolgirl giggle. "What about?"
"Oh nothing... I'm just going to the loo."
She amazes me. Where does she get her ideas from... I still find it an adventure trying to work out how her mind works. How she dreams up these names...
I adore her. Seven years together and everyday she amazes me.
"Tim... fancy a coffee?"
"Pop the kettle on then... on your way back." Kirsten lets out another giggle.
Darkness swallowed me whole some time ago now and I yearn to see again. But I've learned to live with it. Writing books and listening to music has been my salvation. I used to be racked with self doubt. I used to tear my soul to cease the pain.
Maybe you feel the same? What Can we do?
"Are you alright?"
"Mr Dansa... are you alright?"
Daniel Dansa, a lonely old man, had fallen asleep on the platform of the station where he spent most of his time these days. Slightly dazed he squinted his eyes and looked up... it was a Railway employee... He'd not seen this one before, he peered at her name badge.
"Errrrr... yes thanks Miss... errr... Heengie!
Janet Heengie ...that's different."
He puzzled to himself for a few moments, still coming round, where he was, what he was doing, where he had been. It all seemed a bit distant, then across the track he noticed the huge billboard advertisement... "O'Neils Farm?"
"Haaaaa yes... I remember now." He said softly under his breath.
Something had caught his eye.
"Why is there a question mark at the end of that title then?" he asked Miss Heengie. She turned and pondered briefly before admitting... "I have absolutely no idea."
"No I don't think you have" said the old man.
She helped him up and started walking him down the platform.
"Oooooh, you must have been asleep for sometime Mr Dansa, your absolutely freezing."
She pushed open the Coffee lounge door and helped the old man sit down at the nearest table.
I am old now. But not senile. They think I am though... So they humour me.
They keep asking me why I dream of blind women. I tell them its not women... It's just one... A Woman... but they don't understand.
"D'ya know he told me the other day he'd had a dream that this young guy had wished his eyes away to this girl who was losing her sight.. on the understanding his memory would be wiped clean so he wouldn't know he was ever in love with her, only it all went wrong and he ends up remembering her!"
Gina Lirch was telling Janet about her episode with old man Dansa a few days earlier.
"Sad though isn't it... When I just woke him up the poor old soul must have been having a dirty dream... He was going on about something like... I will rise up all the way... because of what you are!... They both laughed and glanced over to the corner where he was sat staring out of the window at the billboard he had mentioned to Janet earlier.
"You are supposed to be serving customers... not tittle tattling about them!" It was Sam Tarn their supervisor and he wasn't happy. Gina handed Janet a mug of coffee for old man Dansa. Sam intervened.
"I'll take that... Now I suggest you get on and stop chattering ladies."
They scuttled away under his managerial gaze. He took the mug over to where the topic of their conversation was seated.
The sad faced old gentleman turned his head and looked up. "Sam! How long have you been working here?"
Handing over the coffee, Sam said "Nevermind that... You left these flowers here earlier Daniel... Don't forget them when you go."
The old man looked down at the chair next to him, where an old bouquet of dead roses sat crumpled, a few stray petals had fallen to the floor.
He looked back at the Coffee shop supervisor and spoke softly...
"A Thunderstorm once brewed in my heart... but I controlled it and condensed it into tiny spheres. Then let it out through my eyes... Disguised as a million tears... Where is she Sam, The Girl with the mousey hair? Nothing prepared me for her smile, lighting the darkness of my soul... She wouldn't stay in our lovers story... I would have been her slave Sam... She walked into my life out of my dreams... But her friend is nowhere to be seen..."
Sam didn't know what to say or what to do. Nobody ever did.
22nd August 2003.
TO CLOSE WINDOW