The Shackles (short story)

    He could not take his eyes of her, she was beautiful! The way she laughed, the way she moved and even the way she held her pint. A relative simple thing holding a pint but she almost made it an art. Her long fingers with the purple nails that shone in the light, a ring on every finger, touched the glass as if it was pure crystal; it caused a stir in his belly.

   He loved jewellery and touched his own golden chain with the large and very solid shackles around his neck; something he often did. He paid a hideous amount of money for it. The deep yellow coloured beautifully by his black earrings in the delicate golden settings and the complicated tattoo in his neck.

    No, he was definitely not Mr. Average! He was not dull or dreary. The girls in the Gym loved him and although he had never been in love with one of them, he made love to quite a few. Usually one night stands but who cared; his whole life was still in front of him and the workouts to improve his already impressive shape, were more important than walking around with a high heeled and half naked sexy girl on his muscular arm.

    To be honest, as soon as a girl showed signs of claiming him, he backed off immediately. He was not well educated but the girls that fancied him were worse. It was fine as long as they flattered him but as soon as they started talking about wedding dresses or even worse, children, his underdeveloped brains registered 'DANGER'. Indeed in capitals, red capitals. All alarm bells went off and he started the only defence he knew: ignoring. Quite often if not always, the girl moved on to another fellow bodybuilder.

   But this girl in the Pub was different. He knew she was far more intelligent, he could tell by the look in her eyes. The way she looked at him. He noticed immediately that he caught her attention and the stir in his belly became stronger when she smiled at him without interrupting the conversation with the girl next to her who was less beautiful but like her friend muscular and with stunning legs.

He was not interested in the other girl, he was interested in 'purple nails' as he called her until he found out what her real name was. And he was desperate to find that out as soon as possible!

   He finished his drink, rolled his muscles while he watched the two girls.

'Purple nails' whispered something in the ear of her friend who now turned round to take a look at him. This must be his very lucky night; two amazing girls, two Amazons who were clearly interested in him. He smiled back and lowered his eye lids halfway. He was well aware of the effect he had with his long dark eye lashes and mysterious green eyes and again he was successful: the girls winked and raised their glasses. He knew not to look too greedy and he tilted his head a little, smiled and looked around if he wanted to say: “You probably mean someone else instead of me?” The girls laughed and winked again.

    He left his stool and walked slowly to impress them with his godly body; the golden chain sparkled by every move.

The girls kept smiling but did not giggle; another proof so he thought, that they were different than the Gym Groupies. They introduced themselves as Suzie and Janet, two ordinary names for two extraordinary girls, this crossed his mind before he mentioned his own name: Alejandro (which was of course not his real name but it sounded so more exotic than Alex).

   The girls, who admired his body while he stood in between them hoping there would soon be a stool available so he could show them his mighty thighs in the best position, offered him a pint but he refused and offered them a drink instead. “What ever you want, I pay” and took his wallet from his pocket. A wallet with a chain, particularly after last night's deal where he earned a lot of money! He was not stupid so left a part of it at home but he was going to use a great amount of it tonight to treat his 'Amazons'.

    The girls said they did not want expensive drinks as he looked like someone who worked hard for his money. An honest person they did not want to rip off.

But he said that money was not a problem and joked that he could always sell his 20 carat chain. Suzie with the purple nails, bend over to touch the chain and made sure she also softly scratched his skin, knowing the effect it was going to have on him. “Is it really gold?” she asked admiringly. “Aren't you afraid someone is going to steal it from you?”

   He laughed, moved his arms and said: “Have you seen my muscles? No one will dare to steal it!” Both girls stared with large admiring eyes at his muscles and asked if they could feel how strong they were.

He almost blushed when 2 pair of elegant hands folded around his arms and softly squeezed. Suzie squeezed a little longer than Janet as if she was reluctant to let him go. He watched her eyes and noticed she bit on her lower lip which was, he thought, extremely sexy. The stir in his belly changed into another feeling of which he hoped it was no visible for her. But both girls were polite and kept looking at his eyes. Janet mentioned his long eye lashes and the green colour of his eyes: “Like a grassy field in the morning dew, aren't they Suzie?”  

   And Suzie agreed, telling him she never saw green eyes like his before and that, oh how cheeky she was, the colour must change into a deep green like a wild ocean when he was emotional.

It was at this point that he fell for Suzie, his heart started to race and his blood pressure did things to his body that were not appropriate in a Pub.

   And suddenly he wanted to leave the Pub, wanting to go somewhere where he could make love to her, even if it was with Janet too. He could handle it as along as Suzie was part of it. But of course you did not tell a lady this within the first 10 minutes after the introduction, so he behaved but was not sure for how long.

   The two girls knew exactly what was going on with Alejandro. They played this game before and always successful. It was not a coincidence they met him in the Pub, they knew from a friend Alejandro would have called a Gym Groupie, that he was going to be here. The friend that knew about last night's deal because Alejandro did have more muscles than brains and because he loved himself more than anything else... well... apart from his golden chain and other jewellery of course he bragged about.

    He was such an easy victim and like so many men before him, overwhelmed by the charm of Suzie and the prospect of an evening full of fun and beyond with two girls! He was a young stallion with racing hormones and they knew how to handle him.

   It was not very likely that he was going to remember much tomorrow, the pills in combination with the alcohol were going to do their work. As soon as the mist in his head would clear up, he was going to have a lot of questions; not only about Suzie and Janet who he was not going to recognize again - if there was a chance of meeting again anyway, wigs, false lashes, coloured lenses were mighty weapons - but also about some if his precious belongings.

    But how little did all of three knew how the evening was going to end. Never before had the pills such an effect on someone. Instead of making him sleepy before his wild night started, it made him psychotic and he fought for his life. He was out of control, cried, yelled and frantically waved his arms to chase away the demons that occupied his not so developed brains.....


   The jogger that lost his way in the woods because his mind was elsewhere, discovered an old rusty car he had never seen before. He looked around but did not even see a path. How could he have been so stupid?

The sun disappeared behind the clouds and did not guide him where to go.

The temperature dropped quickly and standing still, he felt the cold. He took the fleece from his rucksack and put it on. It felt much warmer but there was still a cold feeling he could not explain and which caused unpleasant shivers and goosebumps. He looked at his mobile to find the GPS and to run home from there.

Photo: @beautifully_derelict_ni (Instagram)

   He walked a few metres back and forth before he had a good signal and doing this, his elbow bounced against the old car. Ouch! His free hand rubbed his painful elbow while he looked through a window that was covered in green moss. At first he did not know what he saw but very slowly his brains digested what was in the back of the car. What looked like a heap of cloths, turned out to be a body. Or what was left of it. Black holes instead of eyes and a mouth. Teeth grinning at him. The skull was visible in between the decaying dry chin that looked like leather.

   The jogger sighed in relief, as a pathologist he had seen worse and he knew his first impression was going to be helpful for the police he was going to call right now with the coordinates of this place. It was within his district and he knew he was going to do the post mortem, very curious to know if indeed the only thing that still remained as it was, caused the death by strangulation: the golden chain with the massive and solid shackles.

Word of thanks:the photo of @beautifully_derelict_ni (Instagram) inspired me to write this story and I was given permission to use the photo as an illustration for which I am very grateful. Thank you Jules! X

Link: please visit the beautiful Instagram account of @beautifully_derelict_ni

Note: the story is pure fiction! A figment of my imagination!

Helen

  

Wind of Seasons (short story)

The edge of the cliff. A dangerous place to be, she knew that, was born here.

   But an indefinable feeling that made her body tremble, drove her from the cottage to this edge of her world. She was so much a child of the beautiful Northern Irish landscape where the many shades of green competed  with the grey and blue colours of the sky. Where the wind waved the grass or tortured the scarce trees that bravely survived the storms with bowed backs like old men.

   She was born in a heavy storm in April and named Aibreann. Her paternal grandmother predicted a strong and determined will, always prepared to fight storms in her life and even looking for them.
Aibreann did not disappoint her grandmother with whom she had a close relationship. Both women had a wild almost earthly edge to their character. Both inherited the free will and combativeness from the Vikings that once ruled Northern Ireland. Add a little blood from the Cromwell's soldiers and a generation of brave women was born. 

   Strong women needed strong men at their side; it wasn't an easy task for the parents to find the right one. Most men were easily either discouraged or too impressed and Aibreann was very seldom impressed by the men who dared to try to approach her.
Her mother shook her head and believed her daughter was never going to marry. Her father laughed and said that the man who could handle his daughter was out there somewhere to turn up when Aibreann was ready for it.

   Watching the wild sea beneath her, Aibreann smiled. Yes, she was 24 and yes, there was a man - Lorcan - she liked but her heart still belonged to the seasons and not to him although she admired his tenacity. The first man that seemed not too impressed with that wild side of her. Still....
   She straightened her back even more, raised her head, her chin pointing forwards, her eyes wide open. She opened her arms and welcomed the wind that gained in strength, trying to subject her to his power.
Aibreann did not give in and laughed, the wind swirled her laugh over the fields towards a man on his horse.

   The man sat high on his tall dark brown horse, his left hand on his knee; the wind blew the manes round his right hand that loosely held the bridles.  He looked at the woman at the edge of the cliff and could not take his eyes of her, feeling a sensation of which he thought he lost it long ago.
   To an ordinary spectator it might have looked if she was going to jump but he knew that she stood their to embrace the wind. She was too far away to hear her laughing still the sound resonated in his chest. Man and horse did not move and stood like a statue in the middle of the green field defined by large ferns that obeyed the law of Autumn by fading into yellow and brown.

   At the same moment the man guided his horse to the cliff, Aibreann knew someone was watching her. She turned around and the wind blew her hair forwards; her hands held her hair back to watch the magnificent combination of strength and solidarity of the man and his horse.

   She was alone but not afraid. Her chin still up, she waited; her eyes fixed on the man's face until she could see his eyes grey as the smoke from the chimneys.
   She raised her hand and laid it on the nostrils of the beautiful horse who nodded a few times to approve with her touch. She did not look at the horse, she looked at the man who's emotions were clearly visible in his eyes; the grey turned from bright to dark but he did not blink.
   She lost track of time, the world around her stood still. The wind got hold of her heart and blood, raced through her body and she knew that the man felt the same. She knew she found her equal and she knew she needed to fight for him; he was the main storm in her life and nothing that followed later in life would cause similar sensations.

~

   Aibreann smiled and thought she was indeed an old sentimental fool. A forgotten tear dripped on the letter in her hand. One of the many the man wrote to her. Letters in which he told her about the storm in his heart the moment he saw her. That incredible sensation that raced through his blood. The recognition of equal souls; creations of the wind.
   Their secret relationship was not meant to last, they both knew that, but until it ended it was fiercely, unruly. Their passion grew with the Autumn winds, raw and reckless. The rain washed the tears they did not want to cry, their time together was too short.
   The storm inside her held on for months after he left but then came the day she calmed down and accepted the proposal of  Lorcan.

   Poor Lorcan who was good to her, who loved her and kissed the ground she was walking on. She was loyal to him, never betrayed him with another man but also never told him about the letters of her wild and passionate lover from long ago. A lover she never met again but who's letters she received though never replied to, until the announcement of his death 60 years later, long after Lorcan passed away.

   After she read the final letter from the stranger that told her about the death of her friend ("we found your address in his agenda"), she walked to the cliff but instead of looking at the sea, she looked in the opposite direction, the wind in her back, searching for the contours of man and horse but they were gone. 

Photo: @beautifully_derelict_ni (Instagram)

   All what was left was a case full of letters, carefully preserved in the attic and never to be read twice or found by anyone. Until now after she towed the case downstairs. Sitting in her chair in front if the peat fire, she opened them one by one before she laid them back in the case.   She read for days and days, forgot to eat, forgot to drink. The peat fire stopped burning but she did not feel the cold; she felt the heat of the fire that burned with the same flame in two bodies, enkindled by the storm.

   Aibreann too died long ago but the heritage of her character and the unlimited love for the seasons once united in the only man on earth that understood her, still remains. Exposed in her little home in front of a cold hearth until the elements destroy what is left of the abandoned cottage, allowing the storm to blow the written memories towards the wild sea.

 

Word of thanks: the photo of @beautifully_derelict_ni (Instagram) inspired me to write this story and I was given permission to use the photo as an illustration for which I am very grateful. Thank you Jules!!

 
Link: please visit the beautiful Instagram account of Jules

Note: the story is pure fiction! A figment of my imagination. 

Helen