the find

Allanah looked at her watch - only half an hour left and the carboot sale would be over. She had to hurry, she couldn't let Graham win. She'd hear all about it, until next months boot sale. He really did not need to have his completely incorrect belief that he was better at finding hidden treasures validated. Tables were being packed away, spaces appeared where cars had vacated. She'd visited every table and had found nothing. Showing up empty handed was not an option. She could see Graham's smug face now. 

The sound of a mechanical melody wafted on the air, the tune luring her the right. It was coming from the very back right-hand corner of a still very cluttered table. Hidden amongst the kitschiest tat she had ever seen, was a gorgeous but clearly long-forgotten jewellery box. Dust clinging to the detailing etched into it's mahogany sides. Perfect. A diamond in the rough. 

Negotiation was quick, and Allanah rushed him, proud of her purchase. Graham's antique vase was nothing in comparison. 

Admiring it later, at home, and listening to it's tune, she noticed that it appeared bigger on the outside than on the inside. A false bottom. 

Digging the removable board out, she found an emerald green, velvet pouch, and inside, wedding rings of various designs ages and sizes.  

Unladylike

"I'll go willingly, but you are going to have to throw me." Unwavering and defiant, stood at the edge of the ship, waiting for the pirate captain to make his move.

"Ava, NO!" a calloused fist slammed into Phillip's jaw before he could utter another word.

The band of seadogs parted like the Red Sea as their captain stalked towards the woman who dared not to fear the dreaded pirate Captain Roberts. Roberts stopped not a foot from Ava, seasoned sailors and fierce pirates had cowered before him, but this dainty little girl barely flinched. She stared him down with an intensity that equalled his intimidation.

"Walk. The Plank. Little Miss Pain in the Ass." Captain Roberts' voice was as rough as the sea during a perfect storm. But Ava would not be swayed.

"Throw me overboard." Her voice as steady as the her gaze, she was a proud silhouette against the horizon. 

Captain Roberts paused for a millisecond. This woman was surprising. Not the damsel in distress he was expecting. He watched, brows furrowed and still radiating aggression as she removed her shoes.

"I'll make it easier for you. Just be warned, you think I'm bad luck on this boat, I'll be worse in the sea."

No man had ever dared threaten Roberts in over a decade, at least non-hollow threats. He almost believed her, she seemed so determined. He wasn't scared, but he was impressed. She would still need to go - women on ships were bad luck and he didn't need that with the storm that was coming.

Ava hitched her skirt up so that her ankles up to her knees were exposed. Phillip, scandalised, gasped.

"Ava. What are you doing? That is not like you. It is so unlady-like."

For the first time since the captain had ordered her overboard, Ava's stare left the Captain, and, disgusted, landed on her fiance.

"Oh, Phillip. You have never understood me." Thank god she was escaping a loveless marriage to a man she had no respect, let alone affection, for. "I don't want to be lady-like."

She climbed onto the side of the ship.

"I want to lure men to their deaths." With one last sneer sent in Phillip's direction, Ava turned back to address Captain Roberts.

"One little push, Captain. That's all it would take. One. Little. Shove."

"I could just shoot you." the Captain snarled.

"You could, but you are smarted than that." Ava smirked, "Bullets need to be saved. They're better used for threats and people putting up a fight. I am currently neither. Throwing me overboard would not involve resistance or a wasted bullet."

"You are annoying me now. Get off my ship."

"Make me."

The crew had been silent. They had no idea what was about to happen. The captain almost seemed to be entertained by this negotiation. No one negotiated with Captain Roberts.

Captain Roberts grabbed Ava roughly by the waist. No one, possibly including the Captain himself, was sure if she was about to be thrown over the side of the ship or over the captain's shoulder and into his cabin.

With one quick move, Ava was falling through the air towards the sea as the black clouds crackled. Phillip fought against his captors to run towards the spot that Ava had just disappeared from. At the captain's signal, the pirates holding Phillip back, let him go. Phillip launched himself to the edge of the ship.

"If you want to live, you men better get back to work." And with that, Captain Roberts strode back to his cabin.

Phillip watched helplessly as Ava lay, floating on her back, her skirt and long tresses fanned out around her. She looked so peaceful, while he was filled with terror.

Three pairs of scaly arms, with what looked like find attached, reached out from the depths and wrapped around Ava's body and began to drag her down into the ocean as the first crack of thundr bellowed through the sky. Lightning lit up the sky as the last sign of Ava disappeared into the blackness.

Dear Mellie

Dear Mellie, 

I hope he makes you laugh. Truly, I do. I fell in love with your laugh, I'm sure he has too. I fell in love with the way you made me laugh. We used to laugh all the time. Do you remember? We don't laugh anymore. I've almost forgotten what your laugh even sounds like. It used to be my favourite sound and, now, it doesn't even exist in my memories. 
I'll always love you, Mellie Moo. But it's not the same anymore. You don't feel the same anymore. I know you don't. And, if I'm being honest with myself, I don't either. I can't hold on anymore. I can't keep holding you back. You want to be with him, we both know you do. Thanks for not acting on it while we were still technically a couple. It's ok now. Go be happy. 

We are strangers who knew each other once, but we are trapped together. Trapped in this house, trapped in this hollow husk of a relationship. If we can still call it that at this point. 

I do love you Mellie. I love you enough to let you go. 

reincarnation

I had been sat in the booth for the past half hour, sipping a large glass of the house white, though the amount of wine had not seemed to change in the past thirty minutes. I wasn't in the mood for sitting alone in a half empty pub on a Tuesday night, but it was better than going home. Moving in with my best friend and her flatmate had seemed like such a good idea. Then the drama kicked off. Sleeping with Micah was an impulse - and a lot of fun - but was definitely not the smartest thing I had ever done. But we were both adults, and friends, so they had drawn a line under it and moved on. 

Then Micah and Ellie had started dating. Being a third-wheel in your own home was awkward enough, it was even worse when you have had sex with one member of the couple, who then tells their girlfriend. There had been no big blow up, no confrontation - just a whole load of passive aggressive bullshit. 

All three of us know it would be better for everyone if I moved out, but I have nowhere to go apart from back to my parents' place - and living with my mum again would be so bad for my mental health. Plus, why should I move out? I hadn't done anything wrong. The spiteful streak in me wanted Ellie to have to continue suffering if she was going to be this much of a bitch. I'd tried to talk to everything through with Ellie, but she keeps throwing it in my face. 'I'd rather not hear the sordid details of you sex with my boyfriend.' accompanied by her trademark sneer. 

I was so lost in my thoughts that it took me a moment to realise that someone was standing next to my table, looking at me expectantly. 

"Oh, hi. Can I help you?"

"I was hoping I could sit with you."

I hesitated a second and looked at the person stood infront of me. Petite, great posture and a friendly face. There was something familiar about this woman, though I didn't recognise her face. Company would be better than sitting her alone, feeling down. 

"Sure." I smiled, gesturing to the open seat across from me. 

"Thank you." The woman settled into the booth, "I'm Anna."

"Rosa." I returned Anna's warm smile, still trying to place why she looked so familiar to me. "I've got to ask, why do I feel like I know you?"

"I can't say, you are too young to know of my work." The woman in front of me could not have been more than a couple of years older than me. She must have read my thoughts from my expression.

"I mean from my past life."

"You remember you passed life?"

"Yes, I was an actress."

"I watch old films a lot. Maybe that's why you seem so familiar to me. Although, you don't look like any actress I've seen in the movies."

We both knew I was humouring her, but I wasn't being patronising, mostly because I liked the idea and wanted to see where this was going , so Anna seemed to let it go and remained friendly and open. 

"I was Audrey Hepburn." It was like a puzzle piece slid into place. Her energy and mannerisms were identical to that of the iconic woman, who had passed before I was born. I'd watched all of her movies and read up on her life as much as I could. I had even done as report on Audrey Hepburn in high school. I so badly wanted the woman in front of me to be the reincarnation of my favourite actress - I mean the woman had a pet deer. But I was still sceptical.

"Do you remember much of you life as Audrey Hepburn?"

"Yes, but I remember more of this life, but that's to be expected."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

There was a pregnant pause as I tried to get my head around what was going on. I'd always liked the idea of reincarnation and past lives, but had never really put much stock in it. It all sounded so crazy, but even crazier was that I actually believed that this tall, blonde and freckled woman was the new vessel for the soul of the woman that I had admired and strived to emulate  my entire life. Realising no one had spoken for a few minutes I quickly blurted. 

"So tell me about who you are now."

God I wished my socially anxious streak would stop rearing it's stupid head at the most inopportune moments. But Anna smiled warmly. 

"I appreciate you being polite, but I know you want to ask about who I was, not who I am now."

I could barely contain my excitement. 

"OK. I have always wanted to know if you found the age difference between you and Humphrey Bogart as skeevey as I do?"

"It was...not ideal." The class and diplomacy of Audrey Hepburn as alive as ever. 

"Was Bogart as miserable as he seemed?"

"Mr Bogart was not the most cheerful of men. He was not overly fond of me, I must say."

"Yeah, I read about that."

Until the day...

Oliver Dashwood arrived home to find the front door of his farmhouse kicked in, rugs throughout the house out of place and a mess that strongly suggested a struggle. A jolt to his system sent him dashing up the stairs to his daughter's room. The door was wide open - Olivia always kept her door closed. The mess had infected Olivia's normally pristine room. He bed was empty and unmade. 

"Olivia!", Oliver yelled, "Olivia get over her now!" Silence. Olivia would never ignore his calls - she knew better than that. 

Thirty-five minutes later, Oliver Dashwood was sat in his rustic kitchen with three officers of the local police department. Oliver was adamant that his daughter had been taken and the police had to agree that the evidence seemed to back-up the theory. The damage and mess, all her possessions still in her bedroom. Even her pet spaniel, Lady, had been left behind. Olivia never went anywhere without her faithful companion. 

Even without all the "evidence", Oliver Dashwood would never suspect that his obedient daughter had left of her own volition, let alone that it would be her idea. The details were to convince the police - again, Olivia's idea. 

Eight months ago, Oliver had ordered his daughter to never see that Swanson boy ever again. No doubt had, or would, enter his mind that she would not steadfastly follow his orders. He had also made it very, and aggressively, clear to Eric that he was to stay away from his daughter, and being that Olivia belonged to him,  Oliver felt sure that was the end of the issue. 

It wasn't that Mr Dashwood had anything against Eric Swanson personally, it was that he hadn't chosen Eric to be his daughter's suitor - Eric had not even asked Mr Dashwood's permission to court Olivia. Mr Dashwood had always been possessive about anything and everything he felt he owned - including his daughter. It would never occur to him that Olivia was anything other than a meek, mild and blindly-obedient child, and not a smart, strong-willed 24 year old woman that had fallen in love with Eric Samuel Swanson and arranged to run away with him. 

In search to find the daughter of Olivia Edward Dashwood, no-one thought to search for the name Olivia Marie Swanson. Oliver didn't even mention Eric to the police so no-one would look into his whereabouts. It was this blinkered thinking on her father's part that Olivia was counting on. 

The Dashwood family estate was a place where nothing ever happened...

...Until the day that Olivia Dashwood disappeared.  

Reunion

Ravens cawed and cackled on that dewy, hazy morning. A weak Sun hovered uncertainly, as if awaiting permission to rise. The horses were agitated as the man in the bright shirt and panama hat ambled along the dirt track towards the house. This was a place where noting ever happened. Until today...

At the sound of the horses' unrest, Olivia had scrambled from her bed, wrapping herself in a light-weight dressing gown as she went. Something had probably gotten into the stables again - hopefully it had avoided the stamping hooves, she did not relish the thought of scraping smushed mouse out of concrete again. She shuddered at the thought. Slipping her ballet pumps on, she unlocked the door and exited out to the sleepy world on the other side. She wrapped the dressing gown a little tighter as she strode across the porch. Looking out towards the horse stalls, her breath caught in her lungs at the sight of the face that she had dreamt of for the past eight months. 

"Eric." she breathed, as she began to fly through the mist towards the orange clad chest currently strolling up her driveway. 

She was in his arms in seconds, but it still wasn't quick enough. He had been striding to meet her and had lifted her off her feet, holding her as close to him as possible. Her lips were pressed to his as soon as their bodies met. The kiss was deep and desperate. It was the first glass of water after an eight month draught. Eric could feel Olivia's falling onto his face. If he was of a more emotionally open disposition, he'd have been crying too but as it was, he just held her, kissed her and hoped that she knew how much she meant to him. 

"You came back for me." Olivia's forehead was pressed against Eric's, a huge smiling lighting up her face. 

"I promised, didn't I?" Eric spun Olivia round, her joy mirrored on his face, causing Olivia to giggle. 

A raven's caw interrupted the bubble of bliss the couple had created around themselves. 

 "We have to go. Is your bag packed?" Eric furtively looked around, making sure that the horses and birds were the only witnesses to his reunion with his love. 

"Yeah. Let's get everything set up and then we can get me out of here."

Into the Woods

What was it with these woods? Anytime I venture more than five foot into them, I get lost. I've hiked in forests and reserves and mountains across the globe. I'm an expert in tracking, forestry and navigation. I'm trained not to get lost. Yet, every time I hike in these woods, I end up completely bamboozled. No point even trying my phone, there is no cell activity anywhere in here. It mysteriously cuts off the moment you step passed the first tree. 
I'm not the only one to be defeated by these woods, many a person has been lost in it's acres. Everyone comes out thought, strangely eventually. All with stories that end the same: fell asleep deep in the forest and woke up in one of the clearing on the outskirts. I was sceptical - until it happened to me. 

I swear the layout of this damn place changes. I need to find shelter for the night. The sun's going down, and the canopy of leaves above were making it dark on the ground prematurely. 

Oof. Damn tree root. Back on my feet, dusting myself off, and knowing my leg would now have a lovely new bruise, I soldiered on. 

Eventually, I came to a cottage. No sound of bears, so I wouldn't have a repeat of last time and the house was made of bricks, not sweets, so I was safe from the hag of attempt two. 

The door was ajar and a distinct metallic smell came from inside. This did not seem good. But it was shelter, and in these woods, an abandoned cottage, it was a gift horse. 

The scene that I walked into was one of a massacre. Blood was splattered on the walls, floor and furniture. The smell of blood tried to over-power my olfactory sense but was failing against the pungent odour of wet dog. 

Amongst the blood there was a torn nightdress, clearly belonging to someone advanced in age - judging by the style and pattern. It was covered in what looked like fur. My eyes were drawn to the claw marks on the walls, but mostly on the bed frame. Too big for a dog. Wolf. It had to be wolf. 

I stepped forward and stood on something that seemed to be a blanket. Warmth. Picking it up, I could see it was a child's bright red cape.  

Limmericks

There was a young lad from Fife. 

Who wanted an interesting life.

He bought some alpacas, 

While his wife played maracas. 

That strange little lad from Fife. 

There was a young lass from France. 

Who did an exotic type dance. 

She did the splits, 

While biting her lips.

And all the men say her pants.

Me or the dog

"Where's the dog?" Tone forced to be casual but the lips were tight. 
"Gone. I told you, it was me or the dog." Matter-of-fact and, as always, convince he was 100% right. 
"And I said, 'Benji' so why the fuck is he gone and you sociopathic arse is still on my couch?" Rage was boiling. 
"It's my home too. You cant kick me out." Mr Always-Right strikes again. 
"Like hell it is! I work, you don't. I pay the rent and the bills, you don't. My name is on the mortgage agreement. Your's is not. This is MY home and Benji was MY dog. You have no rights here. So. Get. The. Fuck.Out. Of. My. House." Storming footsteps followed by the sounds of a window then a cupboard being opened. He strolled into the bedroom to see his clothes being thrown out of the window. 
Once aware of the presence, she turned to him, fury in her eyes. 
"You have 24hours to return my dog or I go to the police."
"I will do no such thing and I will not be leaving."
"Yes, You will." It was a threat and he knew it was not hollow.