Entwining soul fibres

 

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He perches on a stool at a table that abuts a ceiling-to-floor window, sipping a dark latte in a double insulated glass. He hunches over his newspaper, his grey T-shirt rising to reveal his lower back and a slip of red from under lightly fraying and faded jeans. He glances over the top of his newspaper, through the window onto the passing city foot traffic in the lane way. He fixes on the occasional woman in red or man in blue that speed by. His gaze stops at the door of the café. He wills it open and when it does open, his knee bounces and his heel jitters on the foot rest beneath the stool. A new customer approaches the counter requesting coffee and a toasted focaccia on the run. Baristas move in speedy hustle sending coffee machines to grind and hiss in steam. He relaxes back into his reading.

A couple at a corner table wearing black suits chat in dynamic pitch. Hands wave and heads nod. One has a bubble-glassed coffee while the other has a cup of tea stained in milk. They’re oblivious to anyone or anything but one another, immersed in their conversation.

After the umpteenth willing of the door open, his expression changes.

He leaps from his stool in eyes of gaping gawk at the door that’s opened. His hunch has disappeared and he’s much taller and leaner than his slouch disclosed. He smiles deep in lines of happy as he fixates on her.

She gazes around, and smiles in the sparkle of a star when she spots him. She walks toward him as a beaming light, her step quickening and extending in stride that makes her toned legs skinned by jeans, long and slender. Her unruly locks part to the sides. Each stride beams in more light.

They have not yet touched but they’re already connected by invisible soul fibres that entwine and draw them to one another. Their pull of power is unwavering. The couple at the corner table and baristas stop in gob-smacked jaw.

They embrace as those soul fibres bolt into golden padlocks set deep in hearts. They fuse as the one mass to become their own shooting star, where no other realm exists. And even when they draw back their heads to gaze at one another, they’re still emitting their impenetrable sparkle.

Then comes the kiss … deep in longing; lingering and locked in effervescence. They kiss without restrain as a glowing sentinel in the café. Their arms and hands fit in perfect place over one another, chests and thighs fuse to become one body and they radiate in multi-dimension to the extremities of the Universe.

They release. He pulls a stool for her and takes her hand to guide her to sit. They chat but the conversation doesn’t matter. It’s more about the way she relaxes one hand over his knee while the other grips his bicep as she leans in to chat. He gazes at her in wait while resting his hand over hers.

A waiter brings her a coffee in a long glass topped with whipped cream, and a slice of Linzer tart on a plate with two forks. She breaks off a piece with her fingers and feeds it into his mouth, then kisses him to catch the crumbs falling from his lips.

She sips her coffee and scoops at her cream; he chats and strokes her hair behind her ear. They sometimes giggle, but always touch. He cuts some tart onto the fork and eases it to her mouth. She savours it, then his lips. They embrace.

One after another that passes by the window look in to catch their sparks.

He and she don’t notice. They see nothing but her and him. Nothing more matters.

 

 

Recent Comments
Rosy Cole
Powerful piece, Moni! Oh, those hormones...! :-)
Sunday, 08 March 2015 13:41
Monika Schott PhD
Thanks Rosy. Lovely to watch people be so openly warm.
Sunday, 08 March 2015 21:58
Katherine Gregor
What a beautiful piece, Monika. The chemistry is palpable.
Monday, 09 March 2015 13:46
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6 Comments

No Apologies Or So Sorry That I Got Caught

Unfortunately for them, the hooliganism of some Israir passengers on the flight to Varna had been recorded on camera,  and seen all over Israel. Thus on their return, the offenders decided to  make an appearance on television. But this time they had their face covered and instead of apologizing  they distanced themselves from their actions. Somehow they became the victims too: “I don’t know what came over me,”  “ever since I heard that I was on camera my life has turned into a nightmare,”   “I am on tranquilizers, ” etc. This refusal to take any responsibility is a prime example of how not to apologize

Sometime ago I wrote an essay about  the meaning and importance of proper apologies:

Please keep reading in the Times Of Israel 

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/no-apologies-or-so-sorry-that-i-got-caught/

Recent Comments
Katherine Gregor
Yes, there must be some expression of contrition in an apology – otherwise, it's not an apology! I'm so glad you think that, too!... Read More
Wednesday, 25 February 2015 18:36
Orna Raz
Thank you dear Katia, I find that this is the closest that we get to apology in most cases today and it is very sad. Thank you so ... Read More
Wednesday, 25 February 2015 21:08
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2 Comments

Purging minions

b2ap3_thumbnail_23c365f6af44dd8272a6b5fd1d1f9938.jpgScurrying to hide and go, and move and do, flying and jumping in erratic motion of crazy ... manic minions fighting for attention like spoilt children vying for the last sweet on Earth without knowing where it is.

They clash and scrap within a mess of scattered matter, bullying if they must in their desperation for validation and prime position. The frenzy becomes a bubbling cauldron of emotional prod and pull, too big for the heart to contain. It erupts, overflowing to the brain. 

That’s when true plumbing havoc begins with blockages of activated sludge and leaks into cracks of permeability. Crusts of tar form to smother reason and logic, fear grips to suffocate what’s right and best and nurture the growth of trepidation and uncertainty. Manic minions have now become tribes of egos that squabble amongst their own.

Where to look and what to do ...

A stroke of unexpected softness from innocence, a touch that says, ‘It’s okay.’ The stroke becomes a hold that stops your breath and grounds you to the earth in shuddering reality, sending those manic minions scurrying.

Their withdrawal is short-lived however, and those minions return revived and more frenzied than ever. But you’ve had a glimpse now, a reminder from your heart.

The minions come and go, like and dislike, take a sneaky peak. They want but don’t know how to want and send mixed up messages. They’re greedy and self-satisfying with egos that thump and demand.

Each minion has its own agenda that changes by the minute, sometimes repeating to never end or begin, as the chicken and the egg. All are urgent, yesterday urgent ... the wheel spins faster and faster until a centrifugal force kicks in.

Then, in the momentary flick of a switch, everything stops. Everything falls to nowhere.

A life is gone.

All that remains are memories and grief, and people with minions yesterday, bound together today. Nothing is the same again. What mattered yesterday, matters nix today.

Instead, spending an hour having dinner together, savouring the conversation more than the food, takes centre stage. And when that stage moves to the kitchen to clean those dishes, the chatter moves with it, as an oozing luscious centre from a warm chocolate pudding. Yesterday’s minions are floundering as they wash down the eternal emotional drain, until the minions are gone.

You remember what’s important to you and not what’s important to anyone else, what makes you happy and your heart sing as the most exquisite sound on Earth. You remember the power of love and that when fear knocks at the door and love answers, there’s never anyone there.

 

Recent Comments
Rosy Cole
Powerful, truthful and brilliant rendering of an interior landscape. Thanks, Moni! :-)
Saturday, 21 February 2015 11:58
Monika Schott PhD
Thanks Rosy. Love your description of the rendering of an interior landscape! ... Read More
Sunday, 22 February 2015 02:47
Katherine Gregor
So vivid and heart-rendering, Moni. All the very best to you.
Sunday, 22 February 2015 11:10
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6 Comments

Valentine's Day

 

Celebrating Valentine’s Day in the Philippines is like celebrating Christmas.  They’re big events!  While Christmas brings gifts, a week before Valentine’s brings all kinds of flowers but most especially red roses overflowing from the markets to flower stalls in the malls.  It’s crazy!!!

 

Restaurant reservations are difficult.  Malls are crowded with people carrying bouquets of roses.  Chocolates are abundant, all kinds of sweet stuff to puff up mostly female hearts.

 

I had lunch today with dad.  But it was a very short one.  He didn’t have much of an appetite and has the runs.  I received a message from his caregiver reporting that he vomited too.  He kept sneezing while we were together so maybe he caught a bug.

 

“ If the bathroom episodes continue and the vomiting repeats, then we take him to the hospital.”  I hope the slight “threat” gets dad feeling better soon.  He hates checking in to hospitals.

 

Meanwhile, I baked cookies, dusted the new cars and ate some cookies.  I have a bit of a headache.  I think it’s from worrying about dad.  He has the best doctors looking after him.  It’s just his old age that does not work in his favor.  Plus dialysis.

 

However, in the spirit of love and everything red today, it’s best not to panic and remain positive.  A smile, some tea to calm the nerves and maybe more cookies will do the trick!

Recent Comments
Jitu C Rajgor
I liked that you cared for your old Dad. You are a true daughter. I wish him good recovery, and happy Valentines to both of you.... Read More
Saturday, 14 February 2015 09:18
Katherine Gregor
Beautiful piece, Rina. I can sympathise with regard to your father. My mother is 80 and, after being totally healthy and indepen... Read More
Saturday, 14 February 2015 10:34
Virginia M Macasaet
Thank you Katherine, your words are comforting.
Sunday, 15 February 2015 11:22
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5 Comments

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