I always wanted to share some short stories on here. So here it is, the first of many.
Hope you enjoy x
I saw her dream of better days. Of a future worth living even if it meant giving up on the treasures of her past. Every drag of her rolled up cigarette seemed to lure from inside troubling thoughts and transformed them into dancing wisps of buoyant smoke. She would be free. Liberated from affliction, torment and pain for the duration of the exhale. Each long & distant gaze I took I grew jealous of that fucking cigarette, such was my desire and obsession to be the one receiving her lips.
In the street below, drunken wanderers sauntered and swayed by and the trams carried passengers to their next destination; clubbers, a spent work-force, drifters…. I too would be down in the street almost every night. Lost in my thoughts of an existential crisis. Then I’d look up and the anguish of living would suddenly rear itself and become tame instantaneously.
3rd floor. 2nd from the right.
Her presence warmed me in the coldest reaches of my inner. To see her lean over that balcony.. A fleeting moment of ephemeral joy. And yet she took no notice of me. I wasn’t sure I wanted her to either. What despair would I feel if she was to look down on me dismissively or to feel threatened by my presence even from a distance? Maybe she would embrace me and invite me in to share her rolled up cigarette.. For it all to end in a complete disaster. A childish argument or a clash of personalities. She might not be as heavenly once met or I might not be of an adequate standard. Yes it was clear that I desired her. But I desired more for these other-worldly moments to never lose that thing which made them so sublime.
So I drank my poison and carried on as usual, begging for spare change and trying to stay warm on this wintry Friday evening, with an old sleeping bag and a jacket I was given just a few nights ago. I looked forward to the next time I would see her again for it was in this moment I felt like everyone else. Human and equal. Not just a tramp on the side of the street…
‘The Wide-Eyed Scotsman’ is a collection of thoughts, written pieces, opinions and blogs by myself, Aidan Meehan. Unless stated otherwise all of the work on this site is my own. All of the photos, unless credited, are my own. If you have anything to say or if you enjoy my updates please like, share, follow, communicate or criticise (be gentle). I am not a professional blogger/ writer/ photographer and any interaction which may help to improve my work would be appreciated.
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