Ink of Destiny

"Use Black Ink", the form stated. I glanced across to my "To Do" list that I had just added to and saw, with disappointment, that the pen I had handy was blue and not black. Reluctantly, I heaved myself off the bed and trudged to the back room where all my pens still were and rummaged to see what I had available. Being a little fussy with pens, I prefer not to use ball point pens and opt for roller ball or gel pens instead where the ink comes out a little wet. I also do like fountain and cartridge pens although their maintenance is a little bothersome. My eye caught a felt tip pen which also aren't on my favourite list but my ex used to use them almost exclusively. This would no doubt be one of the pens that she had had a tendency to misplace or lose. In some corner of her office there was probably a cluster of pens huddling away and trying not to be found like prison escapees.

I picked up a fountain pen and wondered if I should fill it up and use it for filling out the form. My feelings were torn but I finally put the cap back on and placed it back in the pen holder. Something caught my eye and my heart sank. Hesitantly, I reached out and picked up a red pen shaped like a cigar that was fat in the middle and tapered towards both ends. The tip was a brushed metal and there was also a similar metallic ferrule at the nib. Encasing the body was a soft, squishy red plastic. There used to be a cap to match, but that had started to fit improperly soon after I had bought it and it was now lost somewhere.

I felt my heart grow heavier and the tears in my eyes begin to well up. I had bought this pen when I had gone to Sydney and it was the first time I had been away interstate from my girlfriend who was to become my wife much later and is now my ex wife. Wandering through the streets of Sydney, I was looking for a small gift to bring back to her. It had to be something stylish, yet useful as well; neither of us were fans of useless tourist trinkets. 

I hadn't known at the time that she wasn't a fan of ball points either and the pen did look quite stylish so she accepted my gift graciously and appreciated the thought. She had neglected to take it with her when she left and it had now been left behind and I wondered if the sentimental value, that at least I had attached to it, had also been left behind. It was now discarded to haunt my thoughts and memories. 

Fighting the heaviness in my chest, I brought it back to my bedroom and began to fill out the form as a tear fell from eye.

Filly's Frolic #15

(Names changed of course.. )


"I just wanted to say how much I really appreciate what you are doing for me", my sister said solemnly over the phone. "I know how difficult this is for you, and John really appreciates it too".
"You're welcome and thank you for understanding", I replied.
A slight pause.
"It'll be alright", I added reassuringly. Was the reassurance for her or me?? 


--


The next day, I stood at the foot of my bed. Someone was staring at me and I couldn't recognise him. He was wearing a smart black suit that was slightly too large and his tailored white shirt with pink, burgundy and cream pinstripes also looked like it had been made for someone who was slightly larger. A pair of expensive black shoes adorned his feet and they must have only been worn half a dozen times. From the top of this sturdy body was an out of proportioned head with a rather slight looking face. Long black hair had been slicked back and was held in a ponytail. 


I shuffled in front of the mirror uncomfortably. Memories and emotions of my own wedding began flooding back to me along with memories of how my wife and I had bought the clothes I was wearing. The reflection moved as I did, but it didn't feel like me. I raised my hands in front my eyes and rotating my forearms I saw the buttons on my jack suit move in perfect harmony. It was all so surreal. I felt like I was playing a first person shooter computer game where I could see my hands and everything in front me, but it really wasn't me. 


I sat on my bed and wept.


"How are you?", chirped my sister over the phone, she had impeccable timing.
"I'm good", I replied, lying through my teeth and hoping that my voice wasn't quavering or giving me away. This was going to be one of the happiest days of her life and a cherished memory and I wasn't going to spoil that. My wedding day still remains as the happiest day of my life even though it is also the saddest memory I have.
We talked for a while before she had to go and have her hair done. I prepared my myself mentally for the day ahead.


--


"Where can we get some drugs?"
"You're asking the wrong person", I answered with a chuckle and hoping that he was joking but feeling that he wasn't. James, one of the grooms friends, was tall, handsome and blond. He was an ex commando, footballer and was now a physical trainer and it showed. He was now also very drunk from the nights festivities. 
"Oh, don't be a soft cock", he said, swaying slightly and half pushing, half leaning on me. I was already feeling intimidated by him and this wasn't helping. 
"No, seriously", I lowered my voice as a I felt it rising again, "I have no idea." I had been trying to use my old voice all day and it's low deep vibrations had felt so strange. It also kept rising when I wasn't paying attention or started to get excited and I had to remind myself that Filly's voice wasn't to come out. I had also made it onto the dance floor and I hope I didn't dance like a girl. The night was a complete success for both the bride and the groom and also for me. I was worried that I might have an emotional attack at some inappropriate moment in some unfortunate location, but it didn't happen. That's not to say that I didn't look at the girls on the dance floor and think "I wish I was you and I wish I could wear what you're wearing and dance the way you're dancing!" 


But no, everything would be ok. In fact, everything had turned out alright.

Filly's Frolic #14

Sometimes I just need to get away from it all and be alone with my thoughts, as dangerous and as depressing as that may be. Today would be one of those days. Since I was not well connected enough to warrant an invitation to the Bird Cage at "the race that stops a nation", I decided I would commune with birds of the feathered variety in a more remote location. Doing so on this particular day had also become somewhat of a custom for my ex and myself in years past and even when the rain washes away the sand, some things will always remain.


Standing in line in a McDonald's restaurant in a country town, I watched the crowd of people milling around. Local teenage girls were queued behind me and city tourists were pulling up in the car park. Wearing my flare jeans, a maroon 3/4 sleeve runched top and a black Esprit knit cardi, I still felt so overdressed amongst the present crowd. I few girls took second glances at me probably wondering what this city girl was doing in their town by herself.. or maybe my hair was a mess, I'm not sure. I was obviously not yet at my destination but had stopped for the other obligatory ritual of a hot fudge sundae and fries. If I had not slept in so late that morning, I would have stopped earlier for what should have been a serve of hot cakes in maple syrup...


I cased the place with my order in hand looking for a place to sit. The other attraction of the place was the free wifi and I was hoping to do some writing on my laptop but there was no power point anywhere and, with the limited battery life, I decided to leave the writing till later. McDonald's had obviously thought about deviants like me stealing their electricity and their vacuum cleaners must have very long power cords. I settled for using my iPhone and making a few phone calls whilst enjoying the sundae.


Memory is a funny thing, or maybe mine is just plain bad. Standing at the bank of the river at my destination an hour or so later, I could have sworn that the approach to the river and the layout of the surrounding roads were different to how they used to be. I had remembered a more romantic and scenic location with greater access to the banks of the river on either side but my mind had merged reality with idealistic notions and had stored a beautiful, yet fictional, memory. Like the disappointment that sinks into you when you read that wonderful story you wrote or watch the tape of the supposedly crowd pleasing performance years earlier, this was a haunting reminder to not place to much stock in the glowing attraction of the past. I wondered if the same also applied to my thoughts about the future.


In itself, this was not a disappointing location by any means and having parked my car in an appropriate location I was able to open the back of the wagon and sit in the back. My feet dangled over the bumper as I rested against the back seats with a glass of red wine in one hand and crackers and Camembert cheese in reach of the other. I watched the river flow serenely past and as a few drop of drizzle landed on the side windows, I was reminded, with a small sense of satisfaction, this is why I bought this car.


I let my thoughts run and ramble through my head and tried to pay them no attention in the same way that the river swirled past the pylons of the nearby bridge and left eddy's that existed for a moment and then were gone. Time drifted past like the wind in the tall fluffy grass, swaying them about, and I was only clicked back to reality when I realised I had finished my block of cheese. Instinctively, I reached into my picnic bag for another one before deciding that I really couldn't eat it right now and decided to take a walk instead.


As I neared the bank of the river, I saw two people looking at my curiously. A city girl, three hours from home and dressed somewhat inappropriately for a  stroll through the bush probably does deserve some attention. In time their curiosity waned and one of them reeled up his fishing rod and they both left. I hadn't noticed his fishing rod before and maybe I shouldn't have started skipping rocks across the river...


After they both left, I realised I had to go to. I walked along the banks of the river looking for a secluded location. Guys should be so lucky that they can pee standing up; seeing a guy facing a tree is just some sort of accepted social norm. I don't do that any more even though I physically still can and in some ways I miss it but otherwise I really don't. Thoughts about romancing the past spring to mind again.


Pushing my car through the corners on the first part of the trip home was exhilarating. It was something I hadn't done for a while and, as it turns out, I still enjoy it. My ex used to enjoy it too and her Golf GTI would carve up these corners a treat, even it does scare her a little. I wondered why my thoughts had wondered towards her again and I realised that out interests had been so magically intertwined and aligned that it was difficult to separate the thought of her from my hobbies and pastimes. I dwelled on that for a moment before forcing myself to think about something else.


The rest of the trip home was uneventful except for the two miscreants in a red hatchback. The driver seemed intent on holding up traffic, moving between the left and right lane whilst the passenger danced with his body out the window and gestured to cars in the left hand lane. I took the next opportunity to pass them, stretching the speed limit in the process. If the law were to fine me for taking steps to ensure my safety and avoid genuine fear, then the law would be an ass that didn't deserve my obedience anyway.


I missed the turn off for my road home but it was no matter, the next off ramp would work just as well. In fact, it worked a little better since I unexpectedly drove past a McDonald's on that road. Nothing like a symbolic end to a trip and I turned in and walked to the counter to order a soft serve with a flake. The young gent handed it to me with a smile and farewell for a good night. It's nice to have service with a smile.