‘Fergus.’ She took my chin and pulled my face towards hers. ‘There’s a simple way to get around all this. I don’t want to fire Cassandra, of course.’ She was moving closer. Her breath smelt of whisky and cigarettes. My heart screamed at me to get out. ‘So just do what I say…’
‘No.’
She froze, inches away from kissing me.
‘No?’
‘No.’
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Our classes are over. Clearly, you’re doing fine without me, and I’ll just break your ‘nice pen’ if you try to help me. We’re colleagues, anyway. Let’s keep it that way.
The handwriting was completely different, back to being a drunken spider, and it only got messier as my tears fell on the page.
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‘Now,’ she said, pulling off her gloves. ‘You still have to teach me about poetry. I really don’t know very much. Do we write with a pen, or our bodies?’
I grinned. ‘We can use both.’
And we did.
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‘You have such soft hands,’ she said.
‘You like that?’
‘Yes.’ She moved her thumb over the back of my hand, but she continued to look in my eyes. ‘And your lips are, too…’
I leant forward, ready to kiss her.
And then the door to her apartment flew open.
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And there it was: PING! Attraction.
Here’s the thing. When I told you that I don’t wear makeup and lift weights, you probably assumed I only liked women. And you wouldn’t be wrong, 99% of the time. But that 1% of the time, I see men who just have something in their eyes. Like a frightened animal. And for some reason, the IT part of my brain says, ‘Well, let’s fix that.’
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Diana was surprised. ‘You don’t make resolutions? But you’re the most serious person I know! You go to the gym, and cook healthy food, and read books… How do you do all that without New Year’s resolutions?’
Minerva drank some wine. ‘Let me ask you something. How much are you planning on drinking tonight?’
Diana frowned. ‘You plan how much you’re going to drink?’
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CLANG! The gate to the car park closed behind Bella. She was trapped.
Uh-oh.
She had gone past the apartment building on her day off work. She had had one date with the man, but she was impatient. She just wanted to look at him through the window, because she couldn’t stop thinking about him. But his curtains had been closed, so she decided to sneak into the car park so she could do… something? Break into his car and leave him a love letter? She didn’t know what she was doing.
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Once upon a time, there was a talented cello player. She loved her cello like a son, and practised on it for hours every day. Sometimes, she concentrated so hard that she could practically see the notes floating in the air around her.
But one day, as she sat down to practise before breakfast, she was met with a rude surprise: as she put the bow to the strings, the cello spoke.
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You have probably heard of a certain mermaid, who came from Denmark and fell in love with a human prince. She made a deal with a witch, turned into a human and tried to win his heart, but she was unable to. So she turned into sea water and disappeared.
Well, I’m sorry to say that the mermaid in this story does not fall in love with any evil prince living in a fancy castle, nor does she turn into water. If you’re looking for a sad ending, you’ll have to go elsewhere.
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My name is Hubert Lenartowicz, and this is my story. All the details in it are true. I hope you will believe me.
I’m 57 and I grew up in a family of athiests. My father in particular did not believe in God. In addition, he was a police officer in a school for traffic police, as well as a history teacher. In the communist era in Poland it was forbidden for police officers to believe in God or have any connections to the Church. It might not mean losing your job but it would be the end of your professional career. Even as a retired man, my father was critical of the Church.
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