Together We'll Change The World

It was a hazy day but it was our day. What did we expect, we were in Berlin on a spring day. The weather was unpredictable. Melanie followed us clutching my coat and bouquet.

Just days before our wedding, Lee suggested we walk part of the wall that still remained. “We are in Berlin” he said. “We may never come back. Think about it. Who else gets to do that on their wedding day.” 

I laughed. “You can’t be serious. It’s our big day. Nobody does something like that on their big day.” I said. 

A dream you dream alone is only a 
dream. A dream you dream together 
is reality. 
~ John Lennon

But Lee was adamant, he had that look in his eye. “And we are not everybody. You and me - we are different! Together we are going to change the world.”  There was a moment’s silence between us but I knew I had to compromise on this point. Lee was a true revolutionist. “I won’t be able to wear heels.” I said conceding.

Lee smiled, “I know you hate walking in heels.”

We had twenty minutes to ourselves in between the service and the reception. It was a casual affair, a handful of friends and relatives. They didn’t see me slip off my pretty white heels and put on my boots - Melanie following closely behind.

We walked up to the wall. Lee put his hand out and touched history. The wall of shame that divided families and showed the German post war government for what it really was.

My husband caught my hand told me he loved me - I felt the passion in his voice. I hitched up my dress already dirtied by the street. A smile spread on my lips, “we are going to change the world”,  I mumbled as we headed to our wedding reception. 

About the photo: Berlin is amazing, it has more character than any other place I have been. This photos was taken at the East Side Gallery.

Secrets

I sat in the rocking chair on the veranda, soaking up the Spanish sun. Looking out onto the vast lawns that stretched before me, a smile formed on my lips. I couldn’t quite believe that all this was now mine.

I could hear my mum and sister in the kitchen putting lunch together. Some Serrano ham, salads, a loaf of bread from the baker and a pichet of Tempranillo. My mouth began to water in anticipation.  At least mother and Chrissie had got used to the idea that the estate was mine. It wasn’t as if I was going to be a strict gatekeeper of the house. It was here for all of us to use – I was the last person to put down any restrictions. But I suppose it was the principle that stung them. Why did Aunt Mathilde leave her house to me and not to Chrissie and me or even just mum, after all she was her only sister.

Nothing weighs on us so heavily 
as a secret.
~ Jean de la Fontaine

I got up from the rocking chair and started to set the table. I used all my energy to shift the heavy marble stand to a shaded area of the balcony. Mum was never good in the sun.  It was then that I noticed the shadow cast on the orange pillar that framed the veranda. I looked to the right to see where the shadow was being cast from and located it just meters away from where I had been sitting. How had I not noticed this before? The shape was most definitely that of Mathilde! I walked over to it to examine the bust further. It looked like it had recently been moved.

The face looked intense like Mathilde was trying to say something. The gaze of the statue pointed me towards a large cicada in the garden. I don’t know whatpulled me towards the tree, but I walked several meters over to it and in the trunk there was a hole. Instinctively I put my hand through the space and felt around. There was something in there: a letter. I pulled it out and held it in my hands. ‘Angelica’ was scrawled across the envelope in Mathilde’s hand; a letter addressed to me. 

I looked back up towards the balcony; Chrissie and mum were waving me over. I turned back towards the tree and slit open the letter with my fingernail. Slowly, I read through the sheets of onionskin paper carefully put together by my aunt. Once I read through them I read it again. unable to believe what she had said. I heard footsteps behind me and quickly slipped the letter in my pocket.

“Come on Ange, didn’t you see us calling.” It was Chrissie. “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh nothing. I just wanted to see the garden.”

“Well come and have lunch. I am starving.”

Chrissie put her arm around me as we walked back towards mum.  I no longer had an appetite though  because now I knew why Mathilde had left all this to me.


About the photo: This photo was taken at the Alhambra in Granada on a crisp December morning. 

Frenzied Love

It was his birthday. Did Molly know that? Was her tardiness deliberate? Mike thought back to their first chance meeting just over two months ago now. They had met at a bus stop on one of those beautiful spring mornings when the air was crisp, but the sun was shining. Molly had stepped out of the sandwich shop in St Clements and almost walked straight into Mike, her gaze focused on the ice cream she held in her hand.

First love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity.
~ George Bernard Shaw

Mike had noticed Molly’s dress before he actually noticed her. Her attire was not something you could miss. It was a bright red with cream polka dots. He followed the line of the dress up to Molly’s face. Beautiful cerise lips instantly caught his attention and her electric blue eyes made sure he didn’t look away even for one moment. She smiled then and apologised for nearly ruining his jumper with her strawberry Cornetto.

“I’m sorry, I nearly walked into you.”

“Not a problem,” Molly had said still unable to look away. He noticed her Texan accent. “Can I get you another?”

“I shouldn’t really be eating ice cream,” Molly replied. “I’m going to a barbeque.” 

“Not on Chapel Lane?” Mike had asked hoping she was going to the same event he had been heading towards.

“Why yes!” She said pushing a platinum blond curl behind her ear.

The afternoon that followed was fuelled with alcohol, then followed by a frenzied evening of love making, which soon resulted in Molly moving into Mike’s one bedroom apartment above the games shop on the High Street.

Mike lit a cigarette and inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs. He loved the first draw on a freshly rolled cigarette. The nicotine hit was exactly what he needed this morning. He saw Molly sashaying towards him wearing something blue. He paid no attention to her clothes these days. Mike noticed how men turned to look at her as she passed them by. Her favourite perfume, something sickly and sweet, filling their nostrils and making their heads turn. Mike shuddered how he could have gone from loving someone so completely to despising them in less then ten weeks. ‘It’s moving too fast,’ He heard his sister’s words of warning ring in his ears.

“You’re late,” Mike snapped as Molly approached him.

“Am I?” Molly asked; her voice like nails on a blackboard.

“The pub. My birthday.” Mike said

“I have to change. Carry on without me.” Molly waved her hand across her face trying to dissipate the smoke that Mike was blowing in her direction.

“But I have waited for over…never mind.” Mike stubbed his cigarette out under his foot. With clenched fists he walked head down towards Cowley Road muttering obscenities under his breath. He had made up his mind he would break up with Molly today, but then he had said that to himself for the past two weeks. It was just that he hated to be alone.  As Mike debated in his mind, loneliness over a life with Molly, he saw a pair of yellow shoes that made him look up. A five foot four brunette stood in front of him eating a packet of crisps.

“Sorry, I nearly walked into you,” she said.


About the photo: While doing one of my course assignments, I stumbled upon this gentlemen on the High Street in Oxford. The whole setting and him sitting, smoking, without a care in the world, against the red of the store front was just picture perfect.