The duct tape stopped him from moving, hands strapped to the worn fabric of the old Volvo. He wondered who would find him. Scratch that. He wondered if anyone would find him.
She’d parked the car a long way from anything.
Any other day he might have appreciated the vibrant grasses and the soft melody of the great outdoors, but today? Today he wished he’d got her something more expensive than a locket.
Continue reading “Valentine Fiction 4 of 4”
Dead memories screamed, cloying the grey air. Happy Valentines he’d said. She laughed without feeling. The fairground was empty.
Her fingers ran over the decaying ponies, their merry heads loosed from their bodies. They were still laughing in silent agony where once children had patted their painted muzzles. We hadn’t been to the scene of that crime in years, but you always come back to your first.
Continue reading “Valentine Fiction 3 of 4”
Je t’adore…
The Eiffel tower whispered as she dozed on the balcony deckchair. He watched the soft beat of breath rise and fall in her chest. Mottled sky stared in. He didn’t move from the edge of the bed, hands clasped in his lap.
The bed sheets were ruffled, lying in rippled waves of long dead ecstasy, swirled around a box of half-eaten chocolates. She’d discarded them at the first opportunity.
Just like his love.
Continue reading “Valentine Fiction 2 of 4”
She closed her eyes, not waiting long to feel the soft curve of heat press gently against her lips. He tasted of every fantasised kiss but so much better. The raw gentleness of his mouth tested her, finding her tentative response with surprise, but didn’t withdraw.
Instead he kissed her again, as if checking that the first was real and wanted. Lips moved in the dark with tender reply.
Continue reading “Valentine Fiction 1 of 4”
