Saturday 30 January 2016

Luciano

The soft hum of coffee machines and a strong salty scent. A buzzing cafe by the harbour. Luciano had bright blue eyes, light brown hair and the kindest smile. But those who have the gentle smiles have suffered the most. Outside all seems well with Luciano. He exchanges glances with women who admire his allurement, he serves his coffees with a charming simper and would never speak any words short of kind. At least to other people. When the sun began to settle down, the little cafe would close. The hum of the coffe machines disappear and the salty harbour he would leave behind. He would drive home on his little white vespa, that kind smile, lost for a while. He arrives home when the night has arrived, unpacks his things and saunters to the bathroom. A cleaned razor sitting by his sink. He looked at himself in the mirror, and sighed heavily, running his hands under the tap, splashing his face with icy cold water, to bring him back to the hardness of reality. He was finally awake. Bags formed under his big blue eyes. Larger everyday, since it happened. 

Luciano made his way to the kitchen and sat alone on his wooden chair, cigarette kept tight between two finger. His house was cluttered, just like his mind. Clothes strewn around the rooms. Unwashed dishes, empty boxes. There weren't any picture frames on Luciano's wall, except one. A large photo frame of his mother, father and two little sisters, sitting by a beach, together like a family. Happy. A moment captured in time that is lost forever but never forgotten. Luciano could never give up the feeling of being happy, even if he felt it too long ago. 

 

Amelie

Black lace up boots, petticoat dress, red lips, dark hair. Amelie was extraordinary in every sense of the word. She clutched her antique fob watch tightly in her pale hand, people gave her strange looks. She looked out of place, but she was here for a reason. Her hazel eyes searched the crowds swarming like bees in the hustling streets of London.                                                                                      

"Tic toc." She whispered to herself."Tic toc." Her pace quickened, she had to make it before it was too late.
Amelie looked up at the sky, the clouds began to darken, big rain drops splattered onto the pavement, time was running out. She ran against the masses. She was running for him, they were running from him. A police car raced past her, loud sirens, flashing lights. Moments later there were screams and gun shots. She was close, but she was out of time. A bank, a wide clearing, a lifeless corpse in the middle of the street. Blood everywhere. Grey eyes, a revolver in his hand. She was too late. Crowds circled around his body, drenched in blood and water. A little tear rolled down her red cheek.
She held her fob watch out in front of her , flat on the palm of her hand.
"Tic toc." She turned the crown of her watch, its hands moving backwards. Amelie looked up at the body that was no longer there. The blood, the sirens, the crowds. All gone.
A young man with choppy caramel hair brushed past her as he made his way to the bank.
"I'm never out of time." She smiled a crooked smile and followed the young man, fob watch clutched tightly in her hand.



Friday 29 January 2016

Gael

An old soul born in a new world. Gael lived in the big city. Big lights, big buildings, big people. Gael was not like the others though. All the big things made him feel small. Choppy caramel hair, big grey eyes and sun kissed skin. Gael walked the long streets in his dirty chucks and denim jeans rolled up to the ankle. A long white t-shirt and a black jacket, hood over head. A revolver tucked under the back of his belt. He traipsed to the entrance of one of those big city buildings, the bank. He yanked the gun from under his belt and fired two shots in the air. A barrage of cries and screams. The big people hid under tables, hiding from Gael. Like mice to a cat. Gael smiled a crooked smile. The big people were so small.
"Look at you all!" He laughed strangely, running his long fingers through his thick hair. The big people looked at him with those empty eyes, exchanging glances, their bodies trembling. Sirens screamed down the street. They were here. Gael stepped outside of the big building and faced the guns that pointed his way. Rain began to cascade from the black clouds, droplets trickling down his long eye lashes.                                          
"you're all so small." He whispered. "You always were."
His finger brushes against the trigger and in seconds, Gael lay on the long street, blood puddling around his body. The tall buildings cast shadows over him, the lights burnt his eyes and the last thing he heard were the cheers. The cheers of the big people.

Hello everyone! I hoped you enjoyed this story. Gael's character isn't quite justified in this piece or explained for that matter. But I intend to write an ongoing story based around him and his life before his death. I'll be starting that very soon :)
Thanks for reading!
Blexley's Corner xx

Thursday 28 January 2016

Waiting.

White sand spits from the heel of her brown foot as she saunters over to the big blue waves. Tucked under her arm, a creamy white board with the letters S and R painted in red. The cool breeze kisses her smooth skin and runs its fingers through her sun bleached hair, dry and wavy. The sand becomes damper as it slowly sinks between her toes, the breeze becomes stronger. A chilling rush rises up her leg as she steps into the cold Summer's water, but she can barely feel it, not after all those years.

She wades further into the water until her feet can barely touch the surface below her; and hoists herself on top of the creamy white board, on her stomach, paddling herself closer to the big blue waves. She bobs up and down as the small waves pass underneath her. She looks to her left, she looks to her right, blonde haired, brown skinned surfers sit patiently on their boards, glancing behind their shoulders. Waiting for the big blue waves.

This piece was intended to convey a message about being patient and never doubting that the good things in life will eventually find you, no matter how bad things may seem at the moment.





There are no silver linings

People say we can talk with our eyes, but you haven't said a thing to me for so long now. I thought that where there were clouds there would always be a silver lining. But I've looked up at those skies and back on my life and all there's been is rain and stormy nights. 'It'll get better" I've heard it all oh so many times but it doesn't, it really doesn't, because if it did then this wouldn't be how it ends for us.

 I sit here on this little brown chair for hours on end, looking at those glassy blue eyes, that pearly white skin and honey blonde hair. Your cheek bones are sunken in and your gaze is absent. I remember when those cheeks were full and pink and that gaze was warm and kind. The days that you and I would ride down the quiet streets in trolleys, talk about everything and leave out nothing. But it was that day, the day that you kept a secret, a big secret, that everything burnt to flames. And now, you lie in your white gown on those white sheets in a white room, with pale blue lips and short breaths. You never said a word to me from then on. I looked hard into those hollowed blue eyes to find my friend, to hear the words I needed to hear. But I couldn't find them. 

I thought that where there were clouds there would always be a silver lining. But there are no silver linings. I know that now. 







Blexey's Corner

Hi all, and welcome to Blexley's corner!
I am a temperamental and creative teen who expresses her many feelings through writing.
On this blog you will find short stories and/or pieces which I have written. I will write about anything and everything,which means it won't be too hard to find a story you'll enjoy! With hope, some of you will find that you can empathise with or appreciate the stories I have created, and if you do, then I urge you to keep reading as it only gets better from here...

"A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies, the man who never reads lives only one"
 - George RR Martin

See you soon! xx

Blexley's corner