A reason to burn

Stormy brew


My name is irrelevant.


I am 45 years ancient.


War broke me fifteen years ago, and now I am incapable of working.



The aboriginals at the end of my street are fighting again. At least twenty, on reflection there are more likely twenty five, men and women yelling and screaming; a stubby just shattered the window of a house, and a rock has just hit a man on the side of his head.  He is not moving.


This is all happening, escalating if anything, even though it is two in the afternoon and it is the most glorious day. A Willy-Wagtail is chasing cabbage moths across my green, lush, and about due for a mow, front lawn; the big white gum across the road has just exploded into a gargantuan plethora of white winged and squawky Corellas. If it weren’t for the carnage at the end of the street, it would be the perfect day.


One, only one, and quite a magnificent ‘one’ incidentally, thing keeps me here. Living in a place I so heartily detest. She is five feet six inches short, with reddish brown hair and a ‘strawberries and cream’ complexion; her eyes, light grey to light blue, have held me captivated since the fourth of July, 2008. My wife is the most beautiful, magnificent, person I have ever met, and as a result, this is where we dwell.




In a rural shit hole with nothing more to offer than flies, and dust, and heat, and an over powering level of antisocial behaviour that would not be tolerated anywhere else in this wide brown land. If I knew a word baring more power than ‘loathing’, I would use it to describe my hatred of this vile place.


And yet.


And yet this is the town my fabulous wife hails from. Her mother, brothers, sister, nieces, nephews, friends, and enemies are all here, and I don’t like one of them. Each and every day I force myself to endure this pitiless miasma of a berg, and like the ‘Hotel California’, she will never leave. She wears those she loves like the heart wears a beat, and never could I force her desertion of this very hell.




So she is here, and I love her.  I love her so deeply, with such passion, that I could never envisage a moment without her. When we are apart I miss her like sleep and I need her like air. To be without her would be the murder of my soul.


And now.


And now, as she is here, so am I; loving her, hating all else, and I could never live without the love of my life. 


My beautiful, beautiful wife.







I wrote that a few years ago as an exercise as part of some writing course I was undertaking at the time. If it looks familiar to you, there is a pretty fair chance I have posted it before, although on the other blog. Aside, click the picture above, ‘The Ghost Of Stephen Foster’ should follow.









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10 Comments Add yours

  1. rugby843 says:

    Really liked this, but curious, is it based on fact or complete fiction? Of course as always, you do not have to answer.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. That is 100% fact. Everything I wrote was happening whilst I was writing it.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. rugby843 says:

        A lucky couple I must say!

        Liked by 2 people

        1. Well, if not for the location, absolutely! We got married ten weeks after we met, best things I have ever done.

          Liked by 2 people

          1. rugby843 says:

            Great new. Very happy for you. I wish it was more of the norm.

            Liked by 2 people

  2. lorac888890 says:

    Thank you for the like. America is in big trouble on too many levels, but I pray that things will get better. It’s very sad that you have to endure so much for the sake of love. Nevertheless, I wish you well. Please come back to my blog more often. I enjoy yours too. Take care.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. I shall. And yes, Australia is in strife as well, although not as much as the US, from what I understand. I do enjoy your blog.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Viola Bleu says:

    Loved this. The power of love is incredible and can cloak even the most distasteful area with a warmer glow than we see

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you! Yes, love, what ever the hell that may actually be, is why I am here, and why I recorded that life event. Pleased you liked it! N.

      Liked by 1 person

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