Denise gracefully hosts Six Sentence Stories, where writers unleash their magic under one simple rule: in no more or no less than 6 sentences.
This week’s prompt word is : METER
A Tale from the Six Sentence Café & Bistro.
Thinking Of Home
Nick the Gatekeeper locked the door behind him (the irony of names) as he entered the 3.03 am scent of a city asleep; usually Denise the Bar Tender would stay late to keep up with the grind logistics/bookkeeping of the Six Sentence Café & Bistro is; but courtesy of Clark the Tall Thin Man(ager) she was helping Lou out at the bar of The Bottom of the Sea Strip Club & Lounge.
Hūnga not complaining underneath heavy rain is focused on Nick, waiting the final verdict on whether it’s gonna be on foot or a motorcycle ride back home…Let’s walk buddy, let’s walk…ain’t no hiding from the pouring rain now.
Ce…y
An hour later, Hūnga is dreaming in front of the lit fireplace, Nick is sitting next to him on the floor, a vinyl on the turntable playing softly enough not to cover the sound of falling rain & Hūnga‘s breathing but not loud enough to quiet the voice in his head…ce y…see why…see what?
Ce…y
Distance and Time, those two white horses galloping endlessly…they won’t stop if I fall off the wagon…tough luck…now, I am on foot walking, gasping for air, running to get closer to home but always behind the damned horses…they don’t stop…but…I can…stop.
Got no words left, none unsaid…memory box opened…fuck, isn’t time supposed to be the great healer…I miss you…I love you…a scent of jasmine all around me…the door opens, Hūnga wakes up…You came.
Cemetery
\\//\\//
BY THE COMPANY OF WARRIORS I KEEP
Spira / Nick © November 2022
inSPIRAtion 
Deeply moving, Nick, half-dreamy, but what alcohol lays waste cannot trammel memory, sweet as jasmine, as it returns.
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Dora, your beautiful comment brought to mind a favorite poem by C. Cavafy:
“Επέστρεφε συχνά και παίρνε με,αγαπημένη αίσθησις επέστρεφε και παίρνε με —όταν ξυπνά του σώματος η μνήμη,κι επιθυμία παλιά ξαναπερνά στο αίμα·όταν τα χείλη και το δέρμα ενθυμούνται,κι αισθάνονται τα χέρια σαν ν’ αγγίζουν πάλι.
Επέστρεφε συχνά και παίρνε με την νύχτα,όταν τα χείλη και το δέρμα ενθυμούνται…”
“Keep coming back and take me over
beloved sensation, keep coming back and take me over
when the memory of the body is awakening,
and a former desire flows again in the blood;
when the lips and the skin are recalling,
and the hands feel like touching again.
Keep coming back and take me over during the night,
when the lips and the skin are recalling…”
Thank you so much, Dora.
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Wow. Great poetry. Must look up Cavafy. ❤️
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‘Distance and time, both related, oh the memories we have, perhaps regrets too.
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Poetically real, Len.
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Home is where the heart is… pleasant memories always make for a good return, Nick.
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True words, Tom..true words.
Thank you!
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Your “soundtrack”, Nick, totally intensifies the atmosphere you’ve created – dark, raining, the edge of despair suspended like ground fog over an English moor.
I easily envision the Gatekeeper locking the door of the SSC&B, walking up the 3 steps to the sidewalk, Hūnga beside him as they venture into the “3.03 am scent of a city asleep..”
As much as memories comfort, they also have power to torment.
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It is one of those times, Denise, when you wonder which came first , the story or the song…
It doesn’t matter though…what does is that ( as we started exploring with our discussion at Two Guys & a Girlie) you had an experience as a result of the attention you have shown towards the totality of what was before you.
They do, Denise…they do…oblivion is not an option for those who can roll down the windows, as they stop to Say Hello to Heaven.
Thank you.
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Γειά σου Νίκ!✨ Είσαι έμπνευση και ελπίδα!!!
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Hey, Val!
You are as well inspiration , hope, one who never gives up or surrenders!
A true warrior.❤🤗
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It was probably too dangerous to drive the bike home. However, an hour walk in rain might get tiring. Nice seeing all of you on Two Guys and a Girlie channel.
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You are absolutely right, Frank.
Strange thing about rain: we usually run for cover when it starts, right?
Yet when I visited places of this world where clean water was a luxury, everytime it was raining they were outside…in the pouring rain…children dancing…in the rain.
If that doesn’t portrait how many things we take for granted, I don’t know what is.
Frank, a sincere thank you for stopping by here and at the live streams of Two Guys and a Girlie. Your kind words and participation are indeed appreciated.
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You describe so atmospherically that scene where dreams, thrive, Nick, just between wakefulness and sleep when the veil is thin…and they come!
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It means a lot coming from you, Jenne.
As I have said, I am no writer…at best, a writer’s sigh.
…they do!
Σε ευχαριστώ πολύ, Jenne!
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well done, moving good use of the cue
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Thanks a bunch, Paul!
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As a recovering person, this spoke to me. Nonetheless, I got a cxhuckle out of “the irony of names”!
–Shay/Fireblossom in WP clothing
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Yeah…I am Nick the Gatekeeper😁 but let’s leave it to that for now.
I am honored that this spoke to you.
Thank you, Shay.
(And you have a Gaelic name meaning fortunate, black is my favourite color, I drink my coffee black.)
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You write a story in a manner that not only reflects the character (in contrast and concert) of this this future world of personal distance and intimate technology.
I enjoy how you’ve leveraged the tools and artifacts of our times to fashion a story that reflects the current and the timeless.
Courtesy of our individual biographical worlds and the endless enhancement to story-telling of the virtual world (and it’s attendant technology) tales can be woven and shared. And the funny thing, shared stories have a way of accumulating wisdom with telling and re-telling.
While the honor for the creator of tales is first, the value in being re-told is, possibly greater.
not bad
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The power of myth, no?
Thank you my friend for bringing forth qualities I wasn’t even cognizant of when my fountain pen touched paper.
“The journey of the hero is about the courage to seek the depths; the image of creative rebirth; the eternal cycle of change within us; the uncanny discovery that the seeker is the mystery which the seeker seeks to know.”
Joseph Campbell
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Sometimes i just wish i could reach through the interwebs and give you a hug.
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Oh Mimi…waking up and reading your comment…trust me…you have!
🤗
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Listening to the track whilst reading your words took it to another level. Brilliant.
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I will tell you one thing, Keith…in all honesty:
It is a true joy when someone takes the long route of the complete experience and for that I thank you , Keith.
Cheers!
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The heaviness of this semi-dream is palpable. There’s both comfort and sorrow in memory, as one connects to another time lost. Really beautifully rendered!
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Thank you Liz, for your beautiful insight.
It surprises me not ; you have always chosen the “left door” in experiencing my stories…sincerely, thank you.
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