“A bowl of soup for me and one for my friend here.” The look of fear and distrust on her face bothered him. He had offered many of these kindnesses over the years. Even though Connor was not rich he was better off than most. “Sorry, do I know you mister?” Her attempt at courage failed; frightened rabbit. “No. I am Connor.” He tilted his head and placed his right hand to his old chest; an old greeting of custom but one that he had always done. “Then we are not friends.” “My mistake young lady. I was only trying to be friendly.” The soup arrived steaming hot, and smelling of pork. It had been over one hundred years since the last animal had died, but they had been told this is what pork smelt like. “Have the soup and my apology.” With that Connor moved back to his table. He knew that he had her now, she would make him wait then join his table. It took longer than he had thought, but the girl had come over. “Hi. My name is Hannah. Sorry I was so rude, but I am just used to guys trying to take advantage.” She had her sweetest face on, with bright eyes and a beaming smile. They were all so predictable. Flash a smile, and maybe some skin and the men would forgive them murder. “It’s fine, dear. I am Connor. Would you like to join me?” In the opposite seat she dug into the soup. It was clear she hadn’t eaten in a few days; all too common nowadays. The corporation made sure there was not enough for everyone; scarcity puts the price up. “Have you been in town long, Hannah?” The question caught her off guard. “No! I got in today. I’m just looking for a place to crash before I head to my friend’s up-town.” The lie was well practiced, rolling of her tongue with ease. “There are some decent places around here; not expensive and mostly clean. Though I wouldn’t stay here. Too many dodgy, drunk guys. If you know what I am saying?” He could see her mind running through all the options she had. It was clear that Hannah had not a penny to her name. So finding a bed meant finding the least repulsive man to bed. Connor, although by far the oldest, was the cleanest and his pleasant demeanor and sweet granddad face made him the best choice. Most of the guys in this place had the rough road look about them. Never judge a book by its cover. “Thanks for the tip. Do you live around here?” Her voice dropped seductively, while her ample chest tilted forward to give a full view. Connor had seen this so many times before; Hannah had made the choice to bed him. Old, nice and harmless. Plus, he properly wouldn’t last past a BJ. These desperate girls were all the same.
Eternal Debt
Icy winter fog swirled about his feet. Frost bite had long ago taken all feeling, leaving his legs almost as numb as his heart. The sky was cresting the old oak trees that stood guard; its light pale and without warmth. Turning toward the sound of cracking branches, he spotted the fleeting movements of another; the grounds keeper going about the morning rounds. Life went on even if he didn’t want to. The still of this morning would not last and with the new day, pain and death would stalk the world.
Even the birds knew life was off, their morning songs silent. Unnatural and cruel, it was hunting him now; black, soulless eyes following his movements, fingers frozen into claws waiting for the right moment. The soil at his feet was freshly opened, bits of torn wood and the smell of decay. This one was old and she would be hard to kill.
The Gods cursed him to this life of fixing the balance. Hades would be watching to see if he paid his debt. With a deep sigh of soul crushing burden, he set off to meet his fate.
Depression
Darkness holds me, its icy hand wrapped around my heart.
Cold burns me, its trembling hands burn my soul.
Fear stalks me, its shacking hands cut my skin.
Pain fills me, its unrelenting hands enclose me.
Light comes from “I love you daddy.” To be followed by the darkness “Until she knows you.”
Warmth comes from holding hands, only to fade with the loss of the touch.
Courage comes from a job done, but the faults bring fear.
Relief comes from family, but if I lost them?
Father
Fire burnt in his eyes, and his stare bore into the heart of my soul. He was angry again, and again it was for something I hadn’t done. Fear had paralyzed me, rooting my body to the spot. All I could do was watch with dreaded anticipation as he stormed towards me. He was still in his short sleeve work shirt and dark grey trousers. The light is reflecting off his gold watch and thick necklace that hung in his sweat-matted chest hair.
I am punished for what I am not.
My heart leaps as I see him pick it up. The long wooden ruler, with its evil bend and hellish lash, I will not be able to walk tomorrow. I can smell his aftershave now, one day I will wear a scent just like him. His superman strong hand grab me in the same rough way, he always has. At times I wish he would hug me, and tell me just once that he loves me.
Tough love grows strong men.
I can feel his legs tremble with rage and vibrate against my chest. The ruler sings that familiar song; the air rushing passed it on its painful arch. The first strike is always the worst; I never know when it will hit. I learnt early to relax if you clench the pain is ten times more intense. After the initial strike he will fall into a rhythm. Twenty-three that is the number of times he will hit me. Each one will hurt less than the one before.
I can drift off to a world where I am the son he wants.
Peace and Love
Daff
daffthewriter 