Down the rabbit hole

Down the rabbit hole

As the winters days have hit, lights go out and fires come on, we must look to the east. We must understand that at that very moment, while we lounge in comfort, those in Syria are mourning the unnecessary death of their loved ones.

Cases where children having breathed in chlorine gas from barrel bombs, are becoming commonplace. Babies are being ripped away from their life saving incubators to free them from the rubble of another bombing. The threat that Russia are posing is very real and very destructive.

It was an unfortunate phone call I had during the dead of night that has reignited my awareness of these frightful times; I must be thankful of them at any rate. But it has made me realise how selfish I am. I’m selfish to be thinking when the next time I’m going to go out with my friends. I’m selfish to think ‘what if I don’t like my Christmas presents’. I’m selfish to think ‘looks like it’s pasta again for dinner’.

I’m selfish.

Not only that, it seems I have fallen into the rabbit hole and not come out. It seems that I have been living in a rose-tinted world for the past couple of months; a place where apathy is welcomed with open arms.

The fact that it takes my opening up the Facebook app on my phone to be greeted with a video about the goings on in Aleppo. That it is that that snaps me back.

But no more. No more will I stand by the wayside. No more will I take twisted comfort in the fact that I am free to live and love whom and where I choose.

We must stop them, I do not know how but I do know this; we all deserve a free and beautiful life. Please lets us allow the Syrians to have this.

For they know, Allahu akbar. 

The ripple as the story unfolded

Not so long ago, I made a post about how I wanted to write  short story entitled: 27.11.2013.

After revisiting this idea, and my love for writing, I have come up with another insert for this story. This follows on directly from the previous one, which is residing in the archive of June.

And so Amelia’s life has become alive once more.

Amelia was confused. Not only had her world been turned upside down, her very existence was being questioned. How was it that in those seconds she could talk to James with such ease. How was it that it took them five years to talk to each other when there was such a natural craving? Unburdened by the shackles of herself but replaced by the manacles overwhelming desire.

Was this wrong? He has a girlfriend she thought to herself. Too many thoughts were going around her head; on one hand if she were to call him, would he get the wrong impression and run away? But if she did not then they may never exchange words again. All that was left for to do was to press ‘call’.

This fearlessness that had taken over her body was seeping away, but not before her fingers, under no orders, pressed the button that would unlock her fate.

The phone rang.

“Hello?”

The voice was nonchalant but intelligent. She could tell that he had just been doing some menial task, a task that meant nothing to him. While he was doing this, she had gone through every outcome imaginable of this phone call, unbeknownst to him. She was silent.

“Hello? Who is this?”. His voice become noticeably more irritable. 

“Uh-“. He cut in.

“It’s you, Amelia?”

“Yes, um hi. I was just wonderi-“. He didn’t let her finish her sentence.

“If Steinbeck was right to let George kill Lennie, right? See I was thinking about that just now and it really would have been unfair to let him pet the rabbits he would have inevitably killed.”

“Sure, I guess. But isn’t it an unfair to assume that his autism, or wherever he was on the spectrum, would lead him to kill something that he would treasure?”

The conversation went on like this for the next forty-five minutes. Amelia spent her time gesticulating to the invisible James. She paced her room so many times that a metaphorical track was being created. Finally, they broke off, not sure of what to say next. Her oaken hair that had somehow twisted around her long neck was set free when she hastily moved her left hand over her eyes.

“Do you want to hang out sometime and maybe we could discuss the wonderings of Homer maybe? Like, we have a class in it soon and maybe you have some cool insights and-“. She again wasn’t allowed to finish, but not because of him. James had fallen silent as Jessica had walked into the room.

Amelia’s heart dropped. Of course, he wouldn’t want to hang out, he was unavailable. He was the fruit on the tree in the garden of Eden she was tempted to pick, but couldn’t. He was too high up for her to reach, like his social status. On the other end of the line she heard the muffled voice of Jessica.

“Yeah John, I’d love to do that, maybe this Thursday after hockey?”

Amelia was perplexed. Who was John? James played Hockey?

“John did you hear me, Homer needs to be explored definitely! Meet me outside the library at 4:30pm, you know so we can discuss how wisdom is but rare”. He was silenced by Jessica asking him another question.

John? Of course! He was referring to her as John, John Steinbeck.

She replied “we are just two friends, two bodies with one soul inspired”

He hung up. 

 

The blanket of winter

The blanket of winter

It’s this time of year where the scarves and gloves are freed from their dusty homes. Where the frost bites the window panes and the cold clings to every door. This is my favourite time of the year.

I know it sounds cliche and obvious, but doesn’t the snow make everything feel wonderful? Growing up in the countryside, I have been welcomed in the morning with some astonishing sights. The planes dusted with the touch of frost; a runway for spring.

It is with these sights I have welcomed the blanket of winter. The shroud that the cold provides, it is synonymous with protection. Usually you would think the opposite. However winter has an invisible power that has no physical attributes but it coats us with an immense sense of community. When winter peaks in, we light the candle of family.

It is around this time of year we all come together, so after the kind of year we have had this season is perfect for recuperation. Not only does winter provide us with celebration and whimsical fantasies, it coerces you to stay inside. To wrap yourself up in not only a blanket, but love.

Winter is the perfect end to our 2016. Our twisted 2016.