A collection of short stories and journalistic commentaries depicting my simple life
and how I fit in with the modern day universe of our times


I’ve been out of town again and arrive home somewhat late. She said she’d stay up for me and she tried but she’s fallen asleep on the couch, her head resting on a brocaded pillow. I notice her there when I walk in through the door.

She’s gorgeous, she’s always been gorgeous. Ever since day one. And the fact that she’s shorter than me, makes me feel more like a man somehow and it certainly helps as I sidle up behind her and engulf her inviting body in my arms from time to time.

I still have stuff to do so I tip-toe my way around her and make coffee.

Halfway through the cup I turn to regard her. Her form is magnificent, like a white marble sculpture lying in repose on her sensuously red-cushioned couch. Looking at her form fuels my heat and my heart. I admit it I adore her.

Her eyes can’t be seen, but are relaxing and green, they’re the kind of eyes that can never be denied, and can kill your least resistance with a seductively gentle persuasion.

I still have my work to do but can’t stand seeing her there anymore. I step over to her, bend down and scoop her up in my arms. Half-conscious, she wraps her arms around my neck and sighs. I like it when she sighs; it reminds me of when we make love. Making love is something she’s quite passionate about and extremely good at. I carry her into the bedroom and place her on our mattress with loving care.

Removing her clothes is no hassle to me either. I always enjoy removing her clothes. Her skin is baby soft and is the colour of fine porcelain around her breasts and thighs where it hasn’t been kissed by the sun. There’s a slight imprint of a flower on her cheek from the brocaded pillow. I examine it closely because I’ll never see it again. It slowly fades as I watch her. Lucky for me her beauty won’t ever fade and neither will my love for her.

She slides between the sheets of fine Egyptian cotton and I cover her up and make her comfortable with a meaningful kiss to the forehead. "Good night my love, I’m so in love with you, I’ll be back with you soon," I whisper in her ear.

Leaving her behind to do what I had to do, it wasn’t too long before I was heading my way back to her and as I entered the bedroom, I sat for a while and watched through the open French doors as the moon began its steady ascent over the open lawns just outside. And I opened up my wearied eyes to appreciate the scene more fully. I can feel and hear the restless breeze as it rustles the curtains and wafts in to the room to cool my furrowed brow, and I can smell the fresh scent of the great outdoors as it rises from the grass.

I continue to watch as the moon peeks over the horizon like a forlorn lover and gaze in rapture as it climbs higher into the sky, turning the grassy carpet into an amphitheatre of dazzling light.

Its rays playfully leapfrogging across the garden’s surface, until one solitary beam of light; with almost a timid curiosity, creeps its way up the side of the outside wall and intrudes into our bedroom; where it bathes her sleeping form in an ethereal light. Her back is to me so I can’t see her beautiful face, but I watch in complete fascination as the beam of light slowly begins to caress her flesh.

It begins at her feet, then slowly works its way up to highlight her perfectly shaped calves, her thighs, the swell of her womanly hips and finally, the graceful arch of her tattooed back. I feel my heart race faster as the moonbeam spreads across her whole body and feel an absurd jealousy at its silky exploration.

“Come and see what I can see”, it seems to taunt and for one brief instant I have to fight back a maddening urge to move over towards her. I have unconsciously risen partly from my chair before I catch myself and with an odd reluctance, settle once more back into place to watch, and to wait.

There is something quite sensual and ultimately magical about the way the beam takes it’s time, melting into her skin and becoming at one with it. I am completely mesmerised as it gently seduces her whole body with its soft and mellow, light featureless fingers and I feel a jolt run through me and a cold chill races down the back of my neck as it explores her and all of her womanly mysteries.

It continues its gentle violations and I hear her moan softly in her sleep, the sound is both sultry and haunting and I feel my breath catching within my chest.

This delicate probing which encompasses both the senses and the eye, goes on until the moon has completely risen, and then, like a satisfied lover, the beam slowly makes its way back out of the door and slides down the wall to blend in once more with its brothers and sisters below.

I sit for a moment longer, then stand up and stretch. As I make my way over to our bed, I re-trace the intricate patterns that the moonbeam had left upon her delicate flesh and feel that tingling jolt hit me once again.

I finally get to lie down beside my darling and hear her let out a contented sigh. “I’m so in love with you Jodie”, I whisper once again as I snuggle closer and wrap my arms around her. And finally, I close my eyes and become an integral part of her as sleep takes us over and bonds us together as one throughout the rest of the night.

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Its my own fault really, its all about what I see in the world, and how it all translates for me.

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