The Last Chance Saloon

I've been attending a work-based writing and wellbeing course, during which we were recommended to look at the monthly compeition 'Furious Fiction'. 

500 words, in 55 hours, with certain required words, items etc in the story. I had an idea which I worked through in my head, by which time there was only time to write it down, sleep and redraft by the 1pm deadline.

My writing group and my writing course gave good feedback which was very encouraging. 

The Last Chance Saloon

 

The bell trilled.

Strained conversations withered gratefully.

‘Okay everyone, mark your cards and get ready for your final encounter. If you haven’t found love at first sight already then don’t despair, this could be the one.’

Jake rose from his chair, wiped his still sweaty palms on the back of his jeans, and headed to the final table.

‘Nice to meet you’ she called after him.

He turned back, remembering his manners, ‘Oh yes, thank, you too’ and gave a kind but not-interested smile. He’d spent ten minutes nodding politely at her self-absorption, and the flat autumn light hadn’t done her face any favours either.

‘Before we start on our final round, thank you again for your understanding and like I said you’ll all be refunded for this evening, just enjoy yourselves, our gift to you’.

Due to multiple cancellations (‘there must be a bug going around’) the organisers of today’s events had combined the two age groups to have any chance of filling the afternoon. There’d been a few jokes about toyboys and cougars but everyone had voted to carry on.

 

‘Good evening,’ said Jake’s last chance at a match.

‘Good evening to you madam.’

‘Janice Smith’, she said, holding out a hand.

‘Jake Smith’, he replied taking the hand gently and bowing slightly, ‘Coincidence ?’

‘Maybe we’re related ?’

‘Maybe,’

The following pause was awkwardly long. But what to say ?

‘So . . . ‘

‘You seem rather young, inexperienced, for this ?’ said  Janice.

‘And you seem rather . . . charming, for this’, Jake replied, catching himself.

‘Well thank you, for not calling me old,’

‘You’re welcome,’

The tea light between them flickered.

‘So, given the limited time we have, can I ask you something personal ?’

‘You can ask’, said Jake, taking a sip.

‘How many sexual partners have you had ?’

Jake nearly choked on his virgin coke.

‘You know if I answer then I can ask the same question ?’

‘Oh yes, sorry best not to answer then. I didn’t think that one through, new to this. Shame I’ve been waiting to ask you that all evening, ever since they combined the groups.’

Jake mopped up a little spilt drink with a serviette.

 

‘So what should we talk about ?’

‘Oh our hopes, our dreams, ‘ Jake said with a mock flourish.

At a neighbouring table a couple were gushing over shared dog photos.

‘Be honest, really, do you think I’m too old for this ?

‘You’re fine, you’re lovely. You take care of yourself. You’ve still got it in you,’

‘Thank you, it’s nice to hear. You scrub up well yourself, ‘

 

The bell trilled again.

‘Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Please mark your cards and hand them in on the way out. We’ll let you know your matches tomorrow.

‘So Janice, back to mine for some 'Netflix and Chill' ?’

‘I’m not too old to know what that means, and that, is not, appropriate,’

‘Yeah, sorry Mum.’

 

 

Waiting in the dark

There's a lot of waiting going on, waiting for a vaccine, waiting to see if Christmas will be locked down, waiting for a grown up in the White House (at least that's over), just waiting for things to get better,

 

Waiting in the dark

 

Take the volume from the incessant chatter

snuff the blazing lights

sit down in darkness

comforted by patience

 

Stretched between twitching hope

and the sleep of nostalgia

the comfort of newness, of possible change

Or the embrace of the rush of the familiar

 

Wandering from one day to the next

with no race to run

no flames to feed

the metronome clocks

another day

that slips spent to the pile 

 

I sit in the dark

fix on one dim shape

and build around that reality

rebuild a sense of me,

that has been dismantling

 

Washing dressing eating working

scrolling, petitioning

wishing for time travel

either forwards or back

 

Waiting in the rain of speculation

for a cure, a believable all-clear, or a way out

waiting for the same again, again

to stay safe is to stay still, and let go

accept this is out of my hands

 

Sweet nostalgic music has lost all meaning

return to that country cut off by shifting plates

lose myself in stranger sounds, for stranger times

textural landscapes, shapes and patterns

that emerge from groans and clangs

Sylvian and Sakamoto,

T.Rex and Tom Waits

from a different time

a different place

to repaint the here and now

 

So I sit in night

shrouded in the weight of these times

while shadow dogs guard me

sinking into the comfort of the dark

afterglow

part 3 of the writing in pairs challenge, 

the topic was Wine, following 1) Shoes and 2) Blood.

afterglow

wasps soothing buzz

licking the dregs of empty glasses

tiptoeing across the table

stumbling over crumbs

the summer sun hanging high

heat smells of dry hay

as sleepy children with sticky lips lost to their shaded dreaming

hazy afterglow

drinking in the peace

Blood is Red

Red blood
Dark skin

Light skin
Blue shirt
Badge

  beaten Black and Blue
Red dries Black

  took a knee in Red and Gold
to Outcry

Blue shirt
knee to neck
  to Ash
Final.
finally, Outcry 

children open your eyes
the grown-ups cannot explain
how accidents of birth
determine your worth

history has polarised
the beauty in our spectrum
and weak men do drive a wedge
of hatred born in fear

Blood is Red
tears are Clear 
in all God's children
a spectrum, a graduation
not Black and White,
nor Redskinned, nor Yellow
one race, one adam
revealed in many cultures, many traditions

but history is angry with injustice
awake to the heritage of privilege 
all slaves to legacy 
built on sin 
that chokes futures

Blood is Red
and washes pure
save us from our sins


 

The difference between men and women - Shoes

A light hearted poem about shoes (and stereotypes that might be true)

The difference between men and women - Shoes

Men have

A smart pair, and casual pair

a work pair, and a pair for the garden

Plus wellington boots, and hiking boots

and football boots, and tennis trainers,

and going down the pub trainers, and trainers for going for a run,

A pair for every function.

Equipment and uniform.

Women have

A black pair, a brown pair, a cream pair, a red pair,

A high-heeled pair, a low-heeled pair, and flats,

Crocodile, suede and leather,

Everyday, fancy - for weddings,

and for popping to the shops,

Knee-high, shin high, toeless,

Gappy, strappy, flip-floppy, trotty,

For teetering and tottering,

Slip-slapping and smacking,

A pair for every outfit, climate and mood,

And every combination.

It’s always justified,

No-one denies