Well as I type this Darren Reid and the tallented team at Traffic Creative are currenlty putting images and design concepts to my first publication, The Invincible Summer. My first book will be a collection of short stories and over the next month or so I will be publishing exerpts from the various stories as they appear in the book. Keep an eye on my blog for a taste of things to come.
Happy reading and I hope you enjoy.
An excerpt from"When it came to Lidia..." as it appears in The Invincible Summer.
It was raining when Lidia knocked on my door. In my half slumber it awoke me, the deep thud, thud, thud. As I found a lucid state of mind, my body instinctively knew it was she, the dull round pain in my gut that was now synonymous. Thud…thud….thud. The sound of her flat, fleshy palm with a pause between each thud opposed to the sharp, quick tap of a knuckle.
My stomach told me to stay still in the protection of my bed, but I knew I couldn’t, I lacked logic when it came to Lidia. Thud…...thud..….thud. The hallway seemed chilled this time as I cursed myself for heading towards the door, my skin goosepimpled under my pyjamas. Thud…….thud..… She stood there shivering, dressed in next to nothing, her hair stuck to her face soaked in rain or tears and she took one long drag of her cigarette, using the remainder of her strength to stop her hand from shivering. The yellow butt travelled to her pale blue lips. She looked like a girl who used to be my girlfriend.
I once had a memory of Lidia, which I used to play repeatedly when she first left, of her pale skin, smooth and slightly aglow as it reflected the late Sunday afternoon sun. In our bed naked, wrapped in our sheets like a child, she slept as I moved her wavy hair that framed her face like colourful flags slightly swaying in a spring breeze. At the time I remember wishing that we would last forever, but I lacked logic when it came to Lidia. She turned to her back and awoke with a yawn and a stretch, her body taking a strange shape. The short film in my mind was a stark contrast to the reality that was on my doorstep. She smelt of whiskey and cigarettes and sick.