a fairy tale

 

Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in a book.  Day after day she would stare out from the pages of her story at the world outside and wonder at the chaos outside: the lights, the noise, the colours, the sharp, cold smells that used to drift towards her.  Half of her longed to be there, amongst those strange and mysterious shapes and sounds but her other half, her half that told her not to put her hand in the fire or step off that ledge, would remind her that inside those warm page folds was safety, calm and solace.  And so she stayed.

corners

A wise man once said, ‘The funny thing about corners is you don’t know what’s around them until you look’.

the sea

It was his home, his friend, his family.  The sound of the waves slapping on the hull, gulls circling in the air, salt drying his lips and throat, the sun reflecting in warm beams on the surface of the water.  He never felt more at home than now: standing on the deck, looking at the horizon and the endless possibilities to come.

meeting

They met in the lobby of the Grand Hotel.  He wore a red rose in his lapel and she carried a copy of the Times under her right arm.  They both secretly knew that they’d made this arrangement  so they would have an interesting story to tell the grandchildren when they asked how they first met.