Jo could not remember how she ended up living in the squat. It was yet another freezing cold morning as she lay huddled up in the smelly sleeping bag thrown over a rotting mattress on the floor.
Was it the way she had flounced out on her parents that prevented her from going, cap in hand, back to Suburbia and the family home her parents had worked so hard to pay for all their lives? Was it that arsehole Steve, the way he had ripped her off? Taking all the money from their joint account, all their furniture and the car that awful Saturday morning. She had lost her job in the supermarket because of that bloody car, or lack of it. Soon after followed eviction from the rented flat and now here she was, stuck in some godforsaken backwater of a long forgotten Victorian seaside town with no money, no home, no friends, with less than nothing in the way of prospects.
Steve had sure picked a great time to jump ship. Things were OK but not great while he was there, they argued constantly but bills were getting paid. The landlord had just sent the renewal of their shorthold tenancy, all it needed was signing and they would have a roof over their heads for another year. Steve had said he would sort it, instead he had emptied her life of everything that mattered to her and left her behind.
Jo stirred, trying to find some warmth in the tattered sleeping bag. It was definitely colder this morning, she did not want to leave what warmth she found in the sleeping bag behind but she had promised herself that her life must change today. It was her birthday, 20th December, she was now twenty four years old.
She had found the squat in that late summer by walking the backstreet’s of this once jolly seaside town looking for an empty house. The town was now faded and rotting because the tourists did not come here anymore. Even what few tearooms there were closed in September because this was no place to come if the sun was not shining. Where she slept was barely four walls, it had part of a roof over two dilapidated old rooms, no electricity, no running water, no heat other than the small fire she sometimes lit in one corner of the decrepit room she slept in.
Other homeless people, mainly men, had offered her somewhere to sleep in other squats but she knew what that would mean, right now she certainly did not want the attentions of any man, let alone other homeless men. She considered herself to be different from other homeless people, she did not do drugs, she did not drink to excess like they did, she did not even smoke tobacco like just about all the other homeless people she had encountered. How could they afford the tobacco or all those other things they seem to have?
She could barely afford food some days, begging was mostly a waste of time in the centre of town though just occasionally she got given a few coins which she eagerly accepted. It was on days she got given money that she lit her fire, she always bought food that she could heat up, tinned soup or anything in a tin that she could balance precariously over her little fire. Extracting hot food from a scalding hot tin with your fingers was not ideal but the hot food contained within was more than welcome on a day like today.
Jo poked her head over the top of her sleeping bag, searching to see if she needed to go scavenging for something to burn on her fire. On good days she would scavenge all day, building up reserves to burn on cold days, the activity also warmed her up. She sighed to herself, she would have to scavenge today if she wanted any warmth from her fire and she had no tins left with no money to buy anymore. Suburbia seemed such a long time ago, as did her flat in Uxbridge. Why had she come to this godforsaken town in late summer, just three months ago anyway? She had used the last of her money, the money Steve had not found in her purse, on that bus ticket. What had she been thinking?
She snuggled herself back into the sleeping bag, closed her eyes hoping to find some more sleep, hoping the day would warm up. Jo drifted off into a semi-sleep, that hazy sort you get when you do not want to get out of bed and have no reason to either. She dreamt of a visit to this seaside town she and Steve had taken just over sixteen months ago. The hot sun on her back as she lay topless on the deserted beach, Steve laughing and joking as he applied the sun protection lotion to her skin. That had been a glorious day, where had they gone?
Snow started to fall from the leaden sky, covering all in a beautiful layered white blanket. The snow kept on falling, temperatures making records as they reached new lows. Dog walkers often used this quite backwater of the town during the day where all the houses were either derelict or empty. The ambulance parked outside the partially roofed old bungalow was a rare sight on this street, no one lived in this street anymore.
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
Thursday, 9 December 2010
Homeless
Jo could not remember how she ended up living in the squat. It was yet another freezing cold morning as she lay huddled up in the smelly sleeping bag thrown over a rotting mattress on the floor.
Was it the way she had flounced out on her parents that prevented her from going, cap in hand, back to Suburbia and the family home her parents had worked so hard to pay for all their lives? Was it that arsehole Steve, the way he had ripped her off? Taking all the money from their joint account, all their furniture and the car that awful Saturday morning. She had lost her job in the supermarket because of that bloody car, or lack of it. Soon after followed eviction from the rented flat and now here she was, stuck in some godforsaken backwater of a long forgotten Victorian seaside town with no money, no home, no friends, with less than nothing in the way of prospects.
Steve had sure picked a great time to jump ship. Things were OK but not great while he was there, they argued constantly but bills were getting paid. The landlord had just sent the renewal of their shorthold tenancy, all it needed was signing and they would have a roof over their heads for another year. Steve had said he would sort it, instead he had emptied her life of everything that mattered to her and left her behind.
Jo stirred, trying to find some warmth in the tattered sleeping bag. It was definitely colder this morning, she did not want to leave what warmth she found in the sleeping bag behind but she had promised herself that her life must change today. It was her birthday, 20th December, she was now twenty four years old.
She had found the squat in that late summer by walking the backstreet’s of this once jolly seaside town looking for an empty house. The town was now faded and rotting because the tourists did not come here anymore. Even what few tearooms there were closed in September because this was no place to come if the sun was not shining. Where she slept was barely four walls, it had part of a roof over two dilapidated old rooms, no electricity, no running water, no heat other than the small fire she sometimes lit in one corner of the decrepit room she slept in.
Other homeless people, mainly men, had offered her somewhere to sleep in other squats but she knew what that would mean, right now she certainly did not want the attentions of any man, let alone other homeless men. She considered herself to be different from other homeless people, she did not do drugs, she did not drink to excess like they did, she did not even smoke tobacco like just about all the other homeless people she had encountered. How could they afford the tobacco or all those other things they seem to have?
She could barely afford food some days, begging was mostly a waste of time in the centre of town though just occasionally she got given a few coins which she eagerly accepted. It was on days she got given money that she lit her fire, she always bought food that she could heat up, tinned soup or anything in a tin that she could balance precariously over her little fire. Extracting hot food from a scalding hot tin with your fingers was not ideal but the hot food contained within was more than welcome on a day like today.
Jo poked her head over the top of her sleeping bag, searching to see if she needed to go scavenging for something to burn on her fire. On good days she would scavenge all day, building up reserves to burn on cold days, the activity also warmed her up. She sighed to herself, she would have to scavenge today if she wanted any warmth from her fire and she had no tins left with no money to buy anymore. Suburbia seemed such a long time ago, as did her flat in Uxbridge. Why had she come to this godforsaken town in late summer, just three months ago anyway? She had used the last of her money, the money Steve had not found in her purse, on that bus ticket. What had she been thinking?
She snuggled herself back into the sleeping bag, closed her eyes hoping to find some more sleep, hoping the day would warm up. Jo drifted off into a semi-sleep, that hazy sort you get when you do not want to get out of bed and have no reason to either. She dreamt of a visit to this seaside town she and Steve had taken just over sixteen months ago. The hot sun on her back as she lay topless on the deserted beach, Steve laughing and joking as he applied the sun protection lotion to her skin. That had been a glorious day, where had they gone?
Snow started to fall from the leaden sky, covering all in a beautiful layered white blanket. The snow kept on falling, temperatures making records as they reached new lows. Dog walkers often used this quite backwater of the town during the day where all the houses were either derelict or empty. The ambulance parked outside the partially roofed old bungalow was a rare sight on this street, no one lived in this street anymore.
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
Was it the way she had flounced out on her parents that prevented her from going, cap in hand, back to Suburbia and the family home her parents had worked so hard to pay for all their lives? Was it that arsehole Steve, the way he had ripped her off? Taking all the money from their joint account, all their furniture and the car that awful Saturday morning. She had lost her job in the supermarket because of that bloody car, or lack of it. Soon after followed eviction from the rented flat and now here she was, stuck in some godforsaken backwater of a long forgotten Victorian seaside town with no money, no home, no friends, with less than nothing in the way of prospects.
Steve had sure picked a great time to jump ship. Things were OK but not great while he was there, they argued constantly but bills were getting paid. The landlord had just sent the renewal of their shorthold tenancy, all it needed was signing and they would have a roof over their heads for another year. Steve had said he would sort it, instead he had emptied her life of everything that mattered to her and left her behind.
Jo stirred, trying to find some warmth in the tattered sleeping bag. It was definitely colder this morning, she did not want to leave what warmth she found in the sleeping bag behind but she had promised herself that her life must change today. It was her birthday, 20th December, she was now twenty four years old.
She had found the squat in that late summer by walking the backstreet’s of this once jolly seaside town looking for an empty house. The town was now faded and rotting because the tourists did not come here anymore. Even what few tearooms there were closed in September because this was no place to come if the sun was not shining. Where she slept was barely four walls, it had part of a roof over two dilapidated old rooms, no electricity, no running water, no heat other than the small fire she sometimes lit in one corner of the decrepit room she slept in.
Other homeless people, mainly men, had offered her somewhere to sleep in other squats but she knew what that would mean, right now she certainly did not want the attentions of any man, let alone other homeless men. She considered herself to be different from other homeless people, she did not do drugs, she did not drink to excess like they did, she did not even smoke tobacco like just about all the other homeless people she had encountered. How could they afford the tobacco or all those other things they seem to have?
She could barely afford food some days, begging was mostly a waste of time in the centre of town though just occasionally she got given a few coins which she eagerly accepted. It was on days she got given money that she lit her fire, she always bought food that she could heat up, tinned soup or anything in a tin that she could balance precariously over her little fire. Extracting hot food from a scalding hot tin with your fingers was not ideal but the hot food contained within was more than welcome on a day like today.
Jo poked her head over the top of her sleeping bag, searching to see if she needed to go scavenging for something to burn on her fire. On good days she would scavenge all day, building up reserves to burn on cold days, the activity also warmed her up. She sighed to herself, she would have to scavenge today if she wanted any warmth from her fire and she had no tins left with no money to buy anymore. Suburbia seemed such a long time ago, as did her flat in Uxbridge. Why had she come to this godforsaken town in late summer, just three months ago anyway? She had used the last of her money, the money Steve had not found in her purse, on that bus ticket. What had she been thinking?
She snuggled herself back into the sleeping bag, closed her eyes hoping to find some more sleep, hoping the day would warm up. Jo drifted off into a semi-sleep, that hazy sort you get when you do not want to get out of bed and have no reason to either. She dreamt of a visit to this seaside town she and Steve had taken just over sixteen months ago. The hot sun on her back as she lay topless on the deserted beach, Steve laughing and joking as he applied the sun protection lotion to her skin. That had been a glorious day, where had they gone?
Snow started to fall from the leaden sky, covering all in a beautiful layered white blanket. The snow kept on falling, temperatures making records as they reached new lows. Dog walkers often used this quite backwater of the town during the day where all the houses were either derelict or empty. The ambulance parked outside the partially roofed old bungalow was a rare sight on this street, no one lived in this street anymore.
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
Wednesday, 8 December 2010
For we are the earth, stars and moon, we are the sun
Have you ever swum naked in the deep blue oceans?
Feeling the thrill of warm waters soothing embrace
That sensuous fluid movement, as warm as lotions
How I long for those days, memories to retrace
Have you ever walked naked with your feet in the stream?
Underfoot cool pebbles and thick carpets of moss
Finding that small pool, relaxed as if in a dream
I hold this memory dear, detailed without loss
Have you ever run naked through a sunlit draped glade?
Scents and gentle perfumes ravishing the senses
Lying beneath the canopy, skin a dappled brocade
I’ve done this forever, memories of adolescences
Have you ever lain naked beneath that big blue sky?
Great sun burning above as you soak in it’s heat
Deep grass provides comfort no body can deny
I well remember we may have been indiscreet
Have you ever been naked with the one you desired?
In all these places, seed sown, a new life begun
We did this together, our love making inspired
For we are the earth, stars and moon, we are the sun
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
Feeling the thrill of warm waters soothing embrace
That sensuous fluid movement, as warm as lotions
How I long for those days, memories to retrace
Have you ever walked naked with your feet in the stream?
Underfoot cool pebbles and thick carpets of moss
Finding that small pool, relaxed as if in a dream
I hold this memory dear, detailed without loss
Have you ever run naked through a sunlit draped glade?
Scents and gentle perfumes ravishing the senses
Lying beneath the canopy, skin a dappled brocade
I’ve done this forever, memories of adolescences
Have you ever lain naked beneath that big blue sky?
Great sun burning above as you soak in it’s heat
Deep grass provides comfort no body can deny
I well remember we may have been indiscreet
Have you ever been naked with the one you desired?
In all these places, seed sown, a new life begun
We did this together, our love making inspired
For we are the earth, stars and moon, we are the sun
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
What This Soul Needs
Might it be a summers heat
offering warmth to my back?
Is it the soft and gentle breeze
taking all my thoughts from me?
Could it be springs sparkling rain
promising new growth from old?
Is it the feel of a hand in mine
soft gentle fingers entwined?
Or might it be a gentle caress
lips touching mine so tenderly?
Could it be deep searching eyes
finding depths I cannot see?
To be at peace within this life
my soul needs to find new fruits
I need more than life’s intimacies
to give this soul a life renewed.
What this soul is searching for
is peace within body and soul.
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
offering warmth to my back?
Is it the soft and gentle breeze
taking all my thoughts from me?
Could it be springs sparkling rain
promising new growth from old?
Is it the feel of a hand in mine
soft gentle fingers entwined?
Or might it be a gentle caress
lips touching mine so tenderly?
Could it be deep searching eyes
finding depths I cannot see?
To be at peace within this life
my soul needs to find new fruits
I need more than life’s intimacies
to give this soul a life renewed.
What this soul is searching for
is peace within body and soul.
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
Sunday, 5 December 2010
‘Chased By Dogs’
Joe stumbled and fell into the clearing, tired and exhausted. He lay on the frozen ground panting, his breath making mist clouds in the chill air. He knew he had to get up and keep moving he could hear the dogs once again; they were not far away. He had hoped that throwing his coat into that river might put the dogs of his scent for a while, give him a chance to get some distance between himself and the dogs so he could rest up somewhere.
Joe surveyed his surroundings, he was lying in a small clearing in the forest, frost and shallow snow drifts all around then the dark foreboding forest beyond that in all directions. He had a compass, he knew which direction he had to travel and he knew his goal. If he could reach that goal in the next twenty four hours he would be a free man. He looked up, staring at the trees, nothing stirred apart from the incessant barking of the dogs getting ever closer.
Joe stood up to his full and lean six foot frame, his matted dark brown hair falling into his grey eyes. Joe did not care; he checked his compass and started north-east once again. Twigs slashed at his pale skinned face and now bare arms leaving welt marks as he ran through the forest. Run Joe run, he thought.
After another twenty minutes Joe came out of the forest beside a river, his bare skin and face covered in welts. He did not remember this river from the map they showed him. Joe halted, head bowed, thinking hard; where was he? Joe looked at the river, frozen but not frozen enough to cross without the ice breaking, which way? Joe checked his compass, he would have to travel almost due east along the river bank until he found somewhere to cross, he did not want to go west, he knew what lay in that direction if he travelled far enough, it had to be east. Until now Joe had not noticed the silence, even the dogs where quiet. Had they lost his scent?
To save much needed energy, Joe walked along the riverbank but without his coat and only a T-shirt and jeans for clothing, his sweat soon started to freeze to his body, he had to find some dry warmer clothes. Joe looked down the river and in the distance he could see buildings alongside the river. Joe started to jog to try to get some heat circulating in his body again but he was already shivering.
He reached what looked like an abandoned barn with an old watermill alongside. Both looked deserted as Joe scouted for signs of life. While at the back of the barn, Joe noticed that a window had been smashed. It also looked like the only way into the barn without smashing in doors as the only door to the barn was at the front and locked with a heavy brass padlock. Joe climbed in through the window into the almost total darkness of the barn.
The audience was going wild, placing bets with the interactive betting agents as they flashed their prices across the viewing screens. Joe had found something no other freedom chaser had found; this was something new to the viewers of the most watched TV show in modern history. Of course the audience did not know that the production company had built this new feature into the set after falling viewer and betting income figures had spurred them into new ideas. Everything now rested on Joe, would he find the items planted in the barn and watermill? Finding the right items would mean certain freedom, finding the wrong items; well that was why ‘Chased By Dogs’ was the most popular TV show in modern history.
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
Joe surveyed his surroundings, he was lying in a small clearing in the forest, frost and shallow snow drifts all around then the dark foreboding forest beyond that in all directions. He had a compass, he knew which direction he had to travel and he knew his goal. If he could reach that goal in the next twenty four hours he would be a free man. He looked up, staring at the trees, nothing stirred apart from the incessant barking of the dogs getting ever closer.
Joe stood up to his full and lean six foot frame, his matted dark brown hair falling into his grey eyes. Joe did not care; he checked his compass and started north-east once again. Twigs slashed at his pale skinned face and now bare arms leaving welt marks as he ran through the forest. Run Joe run, he thought.
After another twenty minutes Joe came out of the forest beside a river, his bare skin and face covered in welts. He did not remember this river from the map they showed him. Joe halted, head bowed, thinking hard; where was he? Joe looked at the river, frozen but not frozen enough to cross without the ice breaking, which way? Joe checked his compass, he would have to travel almost due east along the river bank until he found somewhere to cross, he did not want to go west, he knew what lay in that direction if he travelled far enough, it had to be east. Until now Joe had not noticed the silence, even the dogs where quiet. Had they lost his scent?
To save much needed energy, Joe walked along the riverbank but without his coat and only a T-shirt and jeans for clothing, his sweat soon started to freeze to his body, he had to find some dry warmer clothes. Joe looked down the river and in the distance he could see buildings alongside the river. Joe started to jog to try to get some heat circulating in his body again but he was already shivering.
He reached what looked like an abandoned barn with an old watermill alongside. Both looked deserted as Joe scouted for signs of life. While at the back of the barn, Joe noticed that a window had been smashed. It also looked like the only way into the barn without smashing in doors as the only door to the barn was at the front and locked with a heavy brass padlock. Joe climbed in through the window into the almost total darkness of the barn.
The audience was going wild, placing bets with the interactive betting agents as they flashed their prices across the viewing screens. Joe had found something no other freedom chaser had found; this was something new to the viewers of the most watched TV show in modern history. Of course the audience did not know that the production company had built this new feature into the set after falling viewer and betting income figures had spurred them into new ideas. Everything now rested on Joe, would he find the items planted in the barn and watermill? Finding the right items would mean certain freedom, finding the wrong items; well that was why ‘Chased By Dogs’ was the most popular TV show in modern history.
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
‘Chased By Dogs’
Joe stumbled and fell into the clearing, tired and exhausted. He lay on the frozen ground panting, his breath making mist clouds in the chill air. He knew he had to get up and keep moving he could hear the dogs once again; they were not far away. He had hoped that throwing his coat into that river might put the dogs of his scent for a while, give him a chance to get some distance between himself and the dogs so he could rest up somewhere.
Joe surveyed his surroundings, he was lying in a small clearing in the forest, frost and shallow snow drifts all around then the dark foreboding forest beyond that in all directions. He had a compass, he knew which direction he had to travel and he knew his goal. If he could reach that goal in the next twenty four hours he would be a free man. He looked up, staring at the trees, nothing stirred apart from the incessant barking of the dogs getting ever closer.
Joe stood up to his full and lean six foot frame, his matted dark brown hair falling into his grey eyes. Joe did not care; he checked his compass and started north-east once again. Twigs slashed at his pale skinned face and now bare arms leaving welt marks as he ran through the forest. Run Joe run, he thought.
After another twenty minutes Joe came out of the forest beside a river, his bare skin and face covered in welts. He did not remember this river from the map they showed him. Joe halted, head bowed, thinking hard; where was he? Joe looked at the river, frozen but not frozen enough to cross without the ice breaking, which way? Joe checked his compass, he would have to travel almost due east along the river bank until he found somewhere to cross, he did not want to go west, he knew what lay in that direction if he travelled far enough, it had to be east. Until now Joe had not noticed the silence, even the dogs where quiet. Had they lost his scent?
To save much needed energy, Joe walked along the riverbank but without his coat and only a T-shirt and jeans for clothing, his sweat soon started to freeze to his body, he had to find some dry warmer clothes. Joe looked down the river and in the distance he could see buildings alongside the river. Joe started to jog to try to get some heat circulating in his body again but he was already shivering.
He reached what looked like an abandoned barn with an old watermill alongside. Both looked deserted as Joe scouted for signs of life. While at the back of the barn, Joe noticed that a window had been smashed. It also looked like the only way into the barn without smashing in doors as the only door to the barn was at the front and locked with a heavy brass padlock. Joe climbed in through the window into the almost total darkness of the barn.
The audience was going wild, placing bets with the interactive betting agents as they flashed their prices across the viewing screens. Joe had found something no other freedom chaser had found; this was something new to the viewers of the most watched TV show in modern history. Of course the audience did not know that the production company had built this new feature into the set after falling viewer and betting income figures had spurred them into new ideas. Everything now rested on Joe, would he find the items planted in the barn and watermill? Finding the right items would mean certain freedom, finding the wrong items; well that was why ‘Chased By Dogs’ was the most popular TV show in modern history.
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
Joe surveyed his surroundings, he was lying in a small clearing in the forest, frost and shallow snow drifts all around then the dark foreboding forest beyond that in all directions. He had a compass, he knew which direction he had to travel and he knew his goal. If he could reach that goal in the next twenty four hours he would be a free man. He looked up, staring at the trees, nothing stirred apart from the incessant barking of the dogs getting ever closer.
Joe stood up to his full and lean six foot frame, his matted dark brown hair falling into his grey eyes. Joe did not care; he checked his compass and started north-east once again. Twigs slashed at his pale skinned face and now bare arms leaving welt marks as he ran through the forest. Run Joe run, he thought.
After another twenty minutes Joe came out of the forest beside a river, his bare skin and face covered in welts. He did not remember this river from the map they showed him. Joe halted, head bowed, thinking hard; where was he? Joe looked at the river, frozen but not frozen enough to cross without the ice breaking, which way? Joe checked his compass, he would have to travel almost due east along the river bank until he found somewhere to cross, he did not want to go west, he knew what lay in that direction if he travelled far enough, it had to be east. Until now Joe had not noticed the silence, even the dogs where quiet. Had they lost his scent?
To save much needed energy, Joe walked along the riverbank but without his coat and only a T-shirt and jeans for clothing, his sweat soon started to freeze to his body, he had to find some dry warmer clothes. Joe looked down the river and in the distance he could see buildings alongside the river. Joe started to jog to try to get some heat circulating in his body again but he was already shivering.
He reached what looked like an abandoned barn with an old watermill alongside. Both looked deserted as Joe scouted for signs of life. While at the back of the barn, Joe noticed that a window had been smashed. It also looked like the only way into the barn without smashing in doors as the only door to the barn was at the front and locked with a heavy brass padlock. Joe climbed in through the window into the almost total darkness of the barn.
The audience was going wild, placing bets with the interactive betting agents as they flashed their prices across the viewing screens. Joe had found something no other freedom chaser had found; this was something new to the viewers of the most watched TV show in modern history. Of course the audience did not know that the production company had built this new feature into the set after falling viewer and betting income figures had spurred them into new ideas. Everything now rested on Joe, would he find the items planted in the barn and watermill? Finding the right items would mean certain freedom, finding the wrong items; well that was why ‘Chased By Dogs’ was the most popular TV show in modern history.
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
Thursday, 2 December 2010
Looking For You
I used to look for your face every day
amongst the crowds milling around the city.
I desperately wanted to see that smile,
the one that always made my heart skip a beat.
You never knew how much that smile meant,
it lit my world every time you smiled at me.
I know I wanted to kiss you so tenderly,
your brown eyes searching mine, pupils dilate.
Did you want to reciprocate that kiss?
Maybe if I had been brave enough, just once,
my life would be with you, but I’m alone.
Now the desires are gone, but there are days
when I still search the faces of the city, looking for you
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
amongst the crowds milling around the city.
I desperately wanted to see that smile,
the one that always made my heart skip a beat.
You never knew how much that smile meant,
it lit my world every time you smiled at me.
I know I wanted to kiss you so tenderly,
your brown eyes searching mine, pupils dilate.
Did you want to reciprocate that kiss?
Maybe if I had been brave enough, just once,
my life would be with you, but I’m alone.
Now the desires are gone, but there are days
when I still search the faces of the city, looking for you
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)