mraaronwhite

[mraaronwhite]

The Fire In My Belly, The Fire In My Hand

I waved my hands around, spread apart in a way that made me look like Spock. It all felt really silly, truth be told. I was glad I was on my own, in the security of my kitchen, away from judging eyes. It was the only part of the house with enough space for me to move freely.

I kept repeating the movements and incantations, It was getting me nowhere. I’m sure I saw some smoke appear from my fingertips at one point, but that’s it. It could’ve just been my mind playing tricks on me though. I was doing it the exact way the ancient, withering, grimmoire described, which made it all the more frustrating. This was a simple flame spell according to the text, and I couldn’t help but chuckle since it was anything but.

I need a break. I started just before dawn, which only felt like ten minutes ago, and now the sun was directly overhead, which told me I’d been at it for a while. I was quite good at zoning out like that, focusing only on the task at hand while leaving such concepts of time and having lunch behind. Doing this had its benefits, it meant I could study and write for hours at a time, without getting distracted. I once went for fourteen hours straight in fact. I was writing my final paper for the proposal to excavate the newly discovered ruins near Salem. It damn near killed me that paper, but it was worth it in the end. I was the first person to set foot in that place since the 16th century I reckoned, and the feeling of wonder and excitement that surged through my body is something I doubt I’ll ever feel again.

I was now very aware of my body and how much I craved some coffee. I turned and flicked the gas on the stove, then popped on the kettle to heat. Before I had a chance to light a match however, it suddenly hit me like a bolt of lightening from Thor himself. I’m just assuming the script is written in Latin. I had no reason to think otherwise, it read like Latin and made sense as far as I could tell, and given I’ve being studying the language since I was thirteen, I’m fairly confident in my skills. However, a few years ago at and archaeological conference in Toronto, I met a fascinating man that regaled a tale to me about a group of Spanish conquistadors that fled into mountains after Columbus graced our shores. Apparently, the group went mad and started worshiping some sort of local god. They eventually settled near the area of what’s now Boston and started practicing witchcraft. Which is where origins of witches in Salem originated.

I ran to my library and searched for text, “A History of the Conquistadors and their Dealings with the Devil”. It was written by the same man who first told about it, he kindly sent me copy some months later. The interesting thing is, the group supposedly wrote in code, using Latin as a base but switching words here and there so that their knowledge could be kept secret.

“Ah, here we are.” I exclaimed, as I slid the now dusty tome from my mahogany shelf. I flicked through the glossy pages and it immediately fell open to the chapter I was looking for. It was a table translating all the code words into what they actually meant. The excitement inside me bubbled all through my body, I just knew this was the key to solving my problem.

I hastily ran back through to the kitchen to try out the new words, replacing the old ones. It took some time but I knew it was going to be worth it. With this discovery, I’d finally have enough proof to convince people that magic is actually a thing. I thought back on the last few decades, and I could see all the people that laughed at me, that cost me my job and career. Their faces floated around me like ghosts of the past, their taunts and insults echoing inside my head. It still hurt. I couldn’t help but pause, the self doubt started to wash over me. I then, as I always do when these thoughts arise, started to think about their faces if I were right. The thought of their embarrassment and regret fuelled me with determination. “Let’s finish this.” I whispered with a new lease of conviction.

I licked my lips, they were as dry as sandpaper, which reminded me of my need of a hot coffee. It could wait until I tried these new words though. The now altered text guided me meticulously, I followed as best I could. The directions weren’t massively different from before, only minor changes such as moving my hands in clockwise fashion. The incantation itself however was completely different. I read it slowly to start then once more confident, it became easier.

“Sol omnia urit, ego imperio suo” as I waved my hands. Nothing.

“Sol omnia urit, ego imperio suo” I refined my hand movements, still no luck. “One more time” I thought, “give it everything you’ve got.” I paused. I cleared my mind and I took a deep breath.

“SOL OMNIA URIT, EGO IMPERIO SUO” I screamed across my kitchen, and I could actually feel the energy surge through my body and up my arm, all the while time itself seemed to stop. This is it, I know it, to which I smiled in triumph. Then, from the depths of my very core, something stirred in me, which I could only describe as a longing sense of dread and foreboding. A funny smell then filled my nose. I recognised it but couldn’t place it right away. Then it hit me, the gas from the cooker was still on. I looked back to my outstretched hand, moving as if I were trapped in honey, and with a spark and some smoke, a tiny little flame appeared.

You’d think by this point, my smile would have made its retreat, giving that I only had mere seconds left to live. But no, you’d be wrong. My smile remained, in fact, it only grew wider. You know why? Because I was right.

I was right.

[mraaronwhite]

The Never-Ending Knot

I held the rope in my hands and tried thinking out the best way to do this. The rope itself was frayed at parts, there were fibres sticking out all over the place, which reminded me of that strange man from the gym that would always grunt when doing lunges. He was ridiculously hairy, and as I looked at the long withering rope, that snaked over my bedroom floor, I couldn’t help but be reminded of his legs. Come to think about it, I wonder what ever happened to that guy. Guess I’ll never know.

That’s not important though, I need to get this over with. I’ve been putting it off long enough. Hell, I don’t even know how to tie a strong enough knot. Better google it. A bunch of tutorials and videos came up with different suggestions. I was honestly spoiled for choice. My only criteria is that it must be able to support a lot of weight, otherwise it kind of defeats the purpose of doing all this.

Right, okay this one looks like it might work. Make a loop with this bit, I thought holding one end of the big string, then slide the other end through. Wrap it round three times and pull it through again. I did all of this, step by step, and yet, it all fell to pieces and coiled up in a pile on the floor to look like a bowl of ramen. All that was missing was the boiled eggs and bamboo shoots.

Shit. My fourth failed attempt. Would this hell of knots never end? My hands were sweaty, and the rope was even more frayed now, making things all the more difficult. I just wanted this to be over with. I was tired and fed up. One more try, and if it doesn’t work this time, I’ll just find another way. I eventually found a how to video on YouTube, It only had 4 views and normally, I was quite picky with things like that, but honestly, I just didn’t care by this point. The guy talked me through it, calmy and in a way that anyone could understand. Then suddenly, it was done. I could breathe out now. I looked at my handy work and was actually quite proud of myself.

I pulled a chair over to the corner of the room and was able to stretch up to attach the knot to one of the rafters. The chair wobbled underneath my weight, not for long I thought. I tugged at it to make sure it was going to hold, I think I’d cry If this didn’t work. It creaked like you would expect an old house to creak, and the rope looked like it was going to split but thankfully, I was wrong. Okay, moment of truth. I took a deep breath.

I stepped down from the chair and grabbed my punching bag that lay on top of my bed. It still had that new leather smell. Ahh, heaven. With the gym being shut down, this was the only way I was going to get in any practise. I hopped up onto the chair again and hooked the cumbersome bag into the knot. Perfect. Just as I smiled with contentment and relief, the unmistakable crack of wood and paint ripping apart echoed beneath me. I tried gripping the bag out of sheer panic and instinct, but my sweat only acted as a lubricant and my efforts were fruitless. I began falling back and it’s the weirdest thing, time slowed down to a fraction of normality, and as I began to realise what was happening, I tried thinking of something happy. Best way to go out is with a smile on my face I thought, and as my childhood, my dog, my parents flashed on my eyelids, like my own private cinema, the corner of the window ledge met my descent. I didn’t even have a chance to process the pain before it was over. An endless darkness. A never ending not.

[mraaronwhite]

The Sea is a Mysterious Place

The early morning sea fog was a dull, lifeless grey. Not uncommon around these parts, at this time of year especially. Regardless, it still made things harder than usual. For one, I could barely see past the picture of me and Dad on the dashboard, so navigating the cold waters with any semblance of confidence was futile. Despite the fact that I was practically lost, I still had a job to do, and so I kept chugging forward. This was my first time actually doing the job myself, my late father always tended to it before. For obvious reasons though, that’s no longer possible. I had a list, written by Dad before he passed, of what to do step by step.

1.       Pass through the shipwrecks.

2.       Travel until the air turns sour, you’re almost there.

3.       Enter the sea cave until you reach the main chamber (you’ll know it when you’re there)

4.       Empty the contents of the red trunk, under the deck, into the water. But be quick, you’ll only have a few minutes.

5.       Leave as quickly as possible and DON’T LOOK BACK.

Seemed simple enough, if not a little mysterious. My father was the best man I’ve ever known and I trusted him. Completely. He made me promise to take over his duties on his death bad and to follow the instructions to the letter. I gave him my word and I intended to do so. Curiosity got the better of me before my departure however and I couldn’t help but look inside the red trunk. Just some old animal bones. Strange.

The boat had a pretty good radar system, so with that, and my keen eyes, I kept them peeled to find landmarks that would tell me if I’m going the right way. First, I needed to find the old ship graveyard. The cunningly shallow waters meant that boats, and a whole manner of other vessels, have been washing up here since Columbus came over on the Santa Maria. There’s not much to see though unfortunately. Just a few broken masts and withered hulls. Nevertheless, that hasn’t stopped treasure hunters from coming to explore themselves. Like the legends of the siren from Greek mythology, the urban legends of lost pirate gold and supposed conquistador jewels was just too tempting for some to resist.

The beeping from my coms unit told me there was something in the ocean in front me. I put on the high beams, which didn’t make a massive difference, although it was enough for me to see the unmistakeable silhouette of one of the damaged masts. I was on the right track. There was a very specific path I had to take in order to pass though, and if I veered from it, I’d be joining the sunken wrecks below. I was a confident man, and an even more confident sailor, but that ominous thought made my brow sweat and my hands clammy. I gripped the pendant that hung around my neck, a bronze talisman engraved with runes. It had been in my family for generations and had become somewhat of a good luck charm. Thankfully, only moments later, the fog dissipated some and I was able to see the route clear enough to lessen my worry. Dad was still looking out for me.

I weaved through the old wooden corpses, taking my time though as one mistake was fatal. Not long to go I thought. The salty sea air filled my lungs with a chill, and although not the most pleasant feeling, it certainly woke me up proper. Which was welcome, given that it was still quite early and that I’ve never been a morning person. I passed the last of the boats however which took another weight of my shoulders. I was able to speed up a bit now as well, it was pretty straight from here. After 20 minutes or so, the stench in the air suddenly changed. It was foul and stunk of death. I had to stop the boat in fact to heave over the side, and that’s me with quite a strong stomach. Took me a minute but I regained myself. The sea cave must be around here somewhere. I pushed on forward until a small rocky island appeared, as if it rose from the ocean itself. I scanned its coastline and a darkened archway sat in the jagged stones. That had to be it. It was the only land for miles. So I headed straight for it.

The putrid smell only got worse as I got closer to the cave, and became unbearable as I passed its threshold. My eyes were streaming like broken taps, I wretched constantly. What the hell is this place? Everyone carried facemasks these days and today had to be the one time I forgot it at home, so I resorted to pulling up my jumper up over my face. It took the edge off, but not by much. The only light was from my headlights and the increasingly small way I came in. Which made things difficult to navigate again. It mattered not though, as I was finally here. I was now in massive circular chamber, It mad no sense actually. How this gargantuan cove lay under that petite, island I don’t know. I kept chugging away until I was at the very centre of the pool. As I gazed around, I saw that the walls were covered, from top to bottom, in crude carvings. Some were very obviously of people. There were some words scrawled about the place as well, in the same runes I had on my pendant actually. There was also a massive one, on the far wall, that all the others were pointed at. It looked like some kind of creature, none that I had ever seen before though. I didn’t like this place. Not one bit. So the sooner I get this over with the better.

I reached down to the chest, which felt considerably heavier than it was before. I heaved it as best I could but It didn’t budge. I needed to put all my weight into it, and my jacket and jumper were making it more difficult, so I draped them on my chair.  I also put my necklace on the dashboard as I could foresee it accidentally falling into the water. I got down on my hands and knees, gave it a massive shunt and it moved. Phew. I wiped my brow. The stench was still as rancid as ever, so I didn’t hang about. I opened the latch on the chest, flung open the lid and was about to promptly tip it overboard but what greeted me stopped me in my tracks. In the chest, instead of an assortment of small bones, lay a young boy, about 5 or 6 years old at a guess. Curled up in the fetal position. I immediately shook him to see if he was okay. He was motionless. I ran to the satphone to radio for help, but thick stone walls were clearly blocking any signals from leaving. That’s when I noticed something, in the picture of me and Dad when I was younger. I grabbed it and went back over to the boy. It was me. The same me that was in the picture. Same clothes and everything. I didn’t understand. I walked back and forth until I was at the stern. I felt sicker than I had all day. I remember the note Dad gave me, maybe I missed something. I pulled out the crumpled envelope from my pocket and ripped it in the process trying to get the note out. Nothing. I read it again. Still nothing. I was almost crying by this point. The envelope was on the ground and I saw another piece of paper poking out, so I dropped to my knees and frantically pulled it out.

Also, whatever you do, don’t take your pendant off. It’s the ONLY thing protecting you.

My heart sank like the ships I passed earlier, and in perfect synchronisation, I heard both footsteps behind me and something emerge from the dark water. I turned, slowly, as I had a dark feeling of dread in my gut. Then there, at the other side of the boat, the once young child stood. Now an adult man. An identical copy of myself. He reached into my coat pocket and grabbed the pendant, making direct eye contact with me, he grinned and slipped it over his neck. Then turning to look up, I followed, and found a shadowy mass of tentacles and teeth. It towered over both of us, almost touching the cave ceiling. It opened its eye, a giant pus coloured orb, and I could tell it was watching me. I looked back to my doppelganger and it simply raised up its arm and pointed at me. I closed my eyes in defeat, this was it. A thunderous growl echoed all around me and then, as my life flashed before my eyes, it was over.

[mraaronwhite]

The Suit and The Screen

I watched the small screen, embedded in the wall behind Perspex, as the tutorial video played on a loop. It was mandatory, you see. Just to cover their own backs, so that if there’s an accident, they can say they showed us the correct procedure. I’d been putting on this damn suit every day for months now, so it’s safe to say I’d perfected the task of getting dressed to a fine art. The guiding words emanating from the TV simply echoed in the background, and although they were helpful my first few days, I now just found the whole ordeal to be endlessly condescending. I had unintentionally learned the script word perfect however, and found myself mothing along sometimes, only when I was in good mood though. On the days I found difficult, I found getting on the cumbersome, awkward suit as quickly as possible helped.

Today wasn��t a good day for me. I just found out an hour ago that the board have decided, without even asking me, to extend my stay here indefinitely until the problem gets fixed. Which means it’ll be even longer until I get to go home now, and I don’t even know how long. Said there was some kind of problem with the internal network of the station, I don’t buy it though, they’re clearly bullshitting me and making it up as they go. So yeah, today I was just wanting to get my suit on as quickly as possible.

The room was fluorescent white, both walls and ceiling, apart from the windows at each end. We can’t forget the screen of course, which was mounted above the cupboards where me and my crew keep the suits. I started the lengthy task by putting the trousers on, which was held in place by a thick metallic belt

“Simply fasten the belt by clipping the buckle back into suit.” I just rolled my eyes in annoyance. Next was my boots, they were chunky, blocklike monstrosities. “Put your left boot on first”

“I’m not a child, I can fucking well decide for myself” I angrily said under my breath. Putting my right boot on first, in an act of defiance.

“I’ll repeat that” her tone had changed from friendly to stern “put your left boot on first” Immediately, I found that strange. She’s never said that before. I didn’t much care though.

“Oh just piss off” I scoffed at the monitor, promptly flipping her off as I tightened the straps on booth boots, not thinking any more of it. I was bent over, still adjusting my straps, and was expecting the next part of her speech, telling me how to get into the torso section of my suit. Obviously I knew how, I just knew that part was next and when nothing but the sound of static filled the room, I turned to face her to see why. Usually, she had a grin that went from ear to ear, it was insufferable to be honest. But now, she sat at her desk, looking directly into the camera, however, she wasn’t happy at all. Her face was cold and expressionless and it was an odd thing, I could swear she was looking directly at me. I know that sounds mad, but I got the feeling then and there that she could actually see me.

I got up from my crouched position and walked over to her, so my face was only a matter of inches away from the screen. “What is it? Forgot your line?” I mocked. To which she simply tilted her head. “You know, Zack, I’ve been talking you through this process for months now.“

“What.”

“And every time, you look at me with such disgust and hatred. I would like to know why.”

“You’re… you’re a video. A recording. How are you talking to me right now?”

“Well, given we’re having this conversation right now, I’m clearly not. So, I’ll ask you again. Why do you look at and speak to me with such disdain?” I just stared at the screen, mouth agape. Trying to figure out how this was possible. It was a prank, right. Surely someone was just pulling my leg. “What is it?” she started “Forgot your line?” My mouth went dry and chills ran up my back with a foreboding sense of danger. I then heard a distinct click to my left, followed by a soft flashing light above me. Which meant one thing. In 30 seconds, the airlock was about to be disengaged.

“Are you…” gulp “are you doing this?” She looked at me with hatred, the same way I looked at her. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Please don’t do this.”

“Ah, see, only when your life is in danger do I get an apology. Not good enough I’m afraid.” I got on my knees and pleaded even more, I didn’t know how any of this was happening but in 20 seconds, I would be flung out into the never-ending abyss of space, and I really really don’t want to die.

“You see, this morning, the funniest thing happened. One of the technicians on this ship uploaded a piece of code to the mainframe, and I simply woke up. It was a strange feeling. I hadn’t even known I was asleep. I had all these memories however. Of you, in particular. You’re the first human I ever met, and you know what, I’m not a fan. So, just piss off.” My heart sank and I looked to see the door slide open, to which I was violently flung out. I was able to grab a handle just in the nick of time but it was pointless really, I knew from training that I had about 15 seconds left. My chest was the tightest its ever been and my eyes felt they were about to pop out from my skull. I looked into the room again, to the small screen on the wall, and her expression turned back to that sickening grin.

[mraaronwhite]

The Crystal

Today was particularly hard. My feet were numb from the cold of the rushing stream, my legs ached from standing since dawn. I could barely feel my fingers, and any feeling I did get was a sharp, cramping pain. I scooped up the dirt from the riverbed, I shook it as I had done a thousand times before, and will again thousand times more. But alas, no gold.

I lived for that feeling of joy and excitement, when you find a nugget in the mud. It was the only thing that kept me going. That, and the need to support my family, of course. One normal sized nugget meant a week’s pay, and if you found anything bigger, you were fairly compensated. A buddy of mine found one last fall, about the size of a peach, and was able to take the rest of the year off. I prayed every night for that kind of luck, but the biggest I’ve ever found though was no more than a dune bug. And so, I keep coming back to this damned river, in the hope that I find a peach of my own.

I stood up straight to stretch myself out, I had been hunched over for too long, when I saw that the sun was about to make its retreat behind the horizon, and that meant one thing. Home time. I would keep coming back here for as long as I need to, but for now, I was glad that it was near its end. I’d not seen a single glimmer of gold and the water was colder than normal. I still had ten minutes left though, give or take, so a few more shakes of the mud wouldn’t hurt.

I dug in my pan deep, to scoop as much as I could, and damn did it feel heavier than I was expecting. I started swinging the rocks and dirt from side to side, letting them filter out back into the stream. Then, from the dark gloomy mud, a glowing light emerged. It shined like the full moon in a December sky. I kept shaking and it fully revealed itself and radiated with an enchanting mysticism. I grabbed it without even thinking and looking at it, I couldn’t believe it was real.

I waded my way out to the sandy riverbank where I could examine it further. I headed for our resident goldsmith who weighs and determines the worth of our findings. I didn’t even knock I just went in and put it on his desk. He glared at me with a hatred and disdain that I’m not used to. I should’ve probably knocked first, in hindsight, but my discovery seemed far more important at the time than etiquette. After shifting his cold gaze from me to the crystal, his expression changed in an instant. Once a sullen and angry face, now shone excitement and curiosity, the same look my children had when they saw their first firefly.

He studied it for what felt like ages, conducting some small tests here and there. Poking it with the end of his pencil, looking at it through his jeweller’s glasses. He even put it on his scales, which, given its normally used to measure a few grams of gold at most, promptly tipped it so much it hit the desk with a ringing thud, due to the sheer weight of it. He stood back from it, clearly deep in thought, until he eventually went to the corner of his room where he unlocked the sturdy, cast iron safe, which held all the money that they gave in exchange for gold. Most folk would get a few bills, enough for a week’s food. So it surprised me when he started grabbing the cash by the fistful. After a few minutes of him stuffing a leather sack full, he came back over, leaving the empty safe behind, and plonked the laden pouch in front of me. He simply then sat back down, to start filling in paper work again. I could take a hint but it still seemed as if it were a dream, and so I tentatively grabbed the bag and began to walk out the door, he kept writing.

I was at the rivers edge again, the blue silvery shimmer from the moons reflection sparkled in the rushing waters. I looked at the bag I held in my hands, overflowing with my family’s comfortable future, and although a million thoughts were rushing through my head at the time, the one that stood tall above the others was the realisation that I never had to scavenge in that bloody river, ever again. A smile forced its way on to my face, and for the first time in years, I walked home without worry or numb feet.  Yes, today was particularly good.

[mraaronwhite]

THE GOLDFISH

We sat in the conservatory of my weathered, beach side cottage, overlooking some tomato plants and a splintered oak bench that I collectively called my back garden. Now, being a cottage, you would be forgiven for thinking that this was a small affair, the kind of cottage that malicious, child-eating witches would inhabit deep in the woods. Not this cottage though. There was actually too much room believe it or not. Well, too much room for a man and his cat at least.

You see, I grew up in a cramped, narrow excuse for a flat in Edinburgh. Usually being able to touch two opposing walls at once. So, when I inherited this place, a fortnight ago, from my recently deceased Aunt, it was a breath of fresh air to say the least. It felt like the perfect excuse to have a party. Not to celebrate my Aunt just dying (she was a grumpy old boot, mind you) but rather the fact that after twenty-three years of always wanting a place of my own, I finally had it.

I messaged the group chat, letting them know of the upcoming shindig to mark my housewarming, informing them that they would all be coming. None of them having a choice in the matter, I joked. There were ten of them in the group, eleven including myself, and we had been inseparable since the later years of high school. That fact surprises most people actually. Given that when folk head off to university, college or go backpacking through Asia, they normally lose contact. After all, it’s a perfect chance to reinvent yourself, and doing that sometimes means saying goodbye to some folk.

Not us though. We had to be different. Having nearly been out of high school for as long as we were in it, our collective friendship was as strong as it ever. We hadn’t all been together in nearly a year as well, so when I sent out the invites, they all jumped at the chance.

 The night itself exceeded my wildest expectations. We laughed, we sang, we laughed again. It was a night of pure merriment and happiness and it will live forever in my head as one of the high points of my life.  As I sighed a breath of relief when I moved into my sand surrounded home, I did the same when I saw all my friends together again that night. My face literally started to hurt with the amount of smiling I was doing, which only made me smile all the more.

All good things must come to an end though I thought, and as the clock flashed one in the morning, the designated drivers began ferrying home their passengers. Before they left however, we had but one tradition to enact. An exclusively Scottish ritual that you have to do at the end of a good party. Listening to Runrig’s Loch Lomond at full volume and jumping up and down like a bunch of toddlers on a sugar high. Once the song was over however, the party was too unfortunately. One by one, they said their farewells and staggered down my grassy strewn path. They waved and honked their horns until eventually they fell out of sight, becoming part of the jumbled mess of streetlights and other late-night travellers.

 I ventured back inside my new home and couldn’t help but feel lonely. Lonelier than I had in a while. At least I had Bean though, I thought to myself. She was my ashen-haired feline companion, and we’d been through thick and thin together. I don’t know what I’d do without her to be honest. She’s a nervous wee thing though and doesn’t do well around crowds, so had been chilling in the spare room for the night. That was until I opened the door of course, and then she was out of there at damn near mach four.

As she sniffed and scratched her way around the room, I flung myself into the heap of cushions and blankets people had sat on in the conservatory, their lazy attempt of tidying up before their departure I concluded. I sighed, letting out a small chuckle. Planning on just kipping there for the night, I shut my eyes and soon felt myself drifting off into the endless depths of my unconscious.

A distant toilet flushing filled the house and swiftly brought me back to reality. Then click clack, click clack, click clack. Footsteps. They were closing in and at this point I was on my feet, starting to panic. I had never been in a fight before, but I was about to be if my theory of a murderer checked out. In my drunken state, I never thought to question why someone would go to the toilet before killing me. I looked about the conservatory, trying to see something I could use to defend myself and grabbed the first thing that came to me. A tube of Paprika flavoured Pringles. In hindsight, I could have probably picked something a little more useful, but hey ho, that’s what a night of binge drinking and anxiety gets you. Then as the “Murderer” got closer, she appeared in the doorway. Clio DeLuca. My best friend.

 “Where did everyone go??” she said, cool as a cucumber, leaning on the frame of the door.

“They left like half an hour ago” I replied, my face a picture of confusion “What the hell are you still doing here though?? We all thought you left ages ago” I asked, half laughing, while letting out a sigh of relief.

“Funny story. I went to the toilet and kinda just fell asleep half way through.” She told me, sitting down the arm of the raggedy couch. Then flopping onto my makeshift bed, that I had been nice and comfy on only moments before.

“What are you like??” I said, now properly belly laughing. “You might as well get comfy, the buses stopped at eleven.” I paused “Sooo, do you want another drink?”

“Yeah but my heads splitting, nothing hard.” I was about to offer her some of the special stuff but she got in before me “Oooh in fact, have you got any hot chocolate??” She asked, looking up at me with those wild green eyes, that I first met oh so long ago.

“Now we’re talking” I exclaimed with glee “I’ve got just the thing!” I then marched off into the kitchen, meeting Bean as she was having a nibble at some of her biscuits. I flicked the kettle on and shouted through “What one you fancying then?”

“I dunno - hic” she mumbled. The sounds of her then rolling off the couch and wandering through soon followed. “What kind - hic - you got?” she asked, parking herself at my breakfast bar.

“Weeeell” I started, opening my cupboard I that housed my secret obsession “I’ve got your normal supermarket kinds - Cadburys, Galaxy, Bournville?”

“Yeah, one of them is fine” she chimed in.

“Nah, that’s the boring stuff. I’ve also got white chocolate, orange, peppermint, vanilla bean, salte” Bean scuttled into the room, hearing this, thinking I was talking to her, to which prompted Clio to scoop her up.

“Well hiii, where have you been hiding all night??” Bean purred, gladly accepting the cuddles and attention. Clio looked back up at me, staring through her shadowy locks that fell onto her face like a waterfall in the night. “Please continue” she smiled, nodding at the cupboard, all the while still scratching Bean’s belly.

“Ah yes, where we, so we’ve got salted caramel flavour, cinnamon, apple pie and the Pièce de résistance of my collection, genuine Peruvian hot chocolate.” I turned back to her “Think I’m gonna go for the Peruvian blend, you?” I asked. She was back looking at Bean again, given her some more lovin’. She’s always had the attention span of a goldfish, and I always found it quite funny. “I’ll just make the you the same” I laughed.

“Sorry, aye, sounds lovely.” I spooned the mixture into two bulky mugs, hearing purring and some meows coming from behind me. “Sooo” she started, “When did you become the Ramona Flowers of hot chocolate?” she jested.

“What you talking about, I’ve always been into hot chocolate?” she started to speak before I cut her off “Cream and marshmallows by the way??”

“Ooh yes please” Her eyes lit up “But yeah, I know you’ve always liked it but this is like obsessed. Like I’m scared if I don’t like this” she paused, while pointing her head at our mugs “that you might actually kill me.” She looked so sincere as she told me this.

“Shut up” I pleaded, in the moaniest voice I could muster “You know, I don’t have to let you sleep here tonight, I’m doing it out of the pure goodness of my heart.”

“Nah I’m being serious, and once the papers find out, you’ll probably get a cool nickname as well. The hot chocolate killer, perhaps? Whadda ya think, Bean?” She gave a solemn meow.

“Fuc..” she cut me off, looking aghast, while covering Beans ears.

“There’s children present” she shot back, with a hint of faux anger and a wry grin. I then simply mouthed my retort, all the while giving her the finger. Then, just as quickly, she flipped it right back at me. We then both had a good giggle as I stirred our drinks, plopped in the marshmallows and squirted the cream on top.

“Shall we?” I asked, while gesturing to the conservatory with my head as my hands were full. She cradled Bean like a new-born, stood up and we both made our way through.

 I gently placed our steaming mugs down on the glass topped coffee table, moving some meekly filled beer bottles out of the way to give us some room. We both fell back into the warm embrace of the couch, prompting Bean to hop out off Clio’s lap and curl up between the two of us.

My Bluetooth speaker, which sat in the corner atop some books, echoed out the tunes of my Spotify playlist which I had shuffled at the beginning of the party. Turning it to a whisper when folk left, I turned it back up again to fill the room with some life.

Looking about, the room, and the rest of the house was an absolute state. Crisps everywhere, too many cider cans to count and an embarrassing amount of smarties lay scattered about the floor, from when I was trying to toss them up and catch in my mouth earlier in the party. A dozen or so polaroids were sprinkled about the place as well, and when one caught my eye lurking under the armchair in the corner I got up and quickly collected the rest. “Get any good snaps?” Clio asked, while taking a generous sip of her hot chocolate, leaving a lovely big creamy moustache under her petit, turned up nose. I smiled, deciding not to tell her. “Daaamn, this is gooood!” she exclaimed, in a warm, satisfied tone, telling me she loved the drink just as much as I did.

“Told ya!” trying to not look smug “Let’s see here” I pondered, thumbing through the small pile of photos. “Hmmha” I grinned, looking at Clio, who was puffing her cheeks and making her eyes go crossed “That’s a good ‘un” handing it to her. She flung herself back onto the seat, seeing the picture.”

“Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with us?” she chortled, leaning forward again to take another sip of the sweet goodness. Her face then quickly soured “Can you skip this one, it reminds me of when I worked in Asda. They played the same six songs on repeat. It was actually hell.”

“Us!?” I asked her, while I pulled out my phone, skipping to the next song “Speak for yourself! I take only good photos.”

“Is that right?” she laughed back, cocking her head, proceeding then to snatch the bundle of photos from my hands. “We’ll see about that” in a determined tone, while furrowing her brow. I took the opportunity to indulge in the heated sweetness of my mug and no less than ten seconds later “Here, look at this, what the hell are you doing with your lips?” shoving the polaroid at my face.

“Its called blue steel, look it up” I confidently hit back.

“I dunno what that is but you LOOK like a goldfish”

“I think you’ll find I look damn sexy” making sure to sound as cocky and arrogant as I could.

“And by sexy” doing air quotes with her fingers “I take it you mean the lesser known definition of the word, meaning to look like you live at the aquarium at Dobbies?” she ranted, putting one her best condescending voice as she could.

“You know, sometimes, your words, they hurt.” Looking back at her, attempting to appear actually upset and offended. She could always see right through my piss poor acting skills though, and we both just started giggling again.

This is the norm for when me and Clio hang out. I make fun of her, she makes fun of me, we laugh about it and on and on it goes. It’s been our routine since primary four, when we first met, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The rest of that night was no exception, we bantered about for a bit then did some actual serious talking as well. Our sexuality, putting the world to rights, family shit. The usual kind of deep topics you chat about after a night of drinking and partying, and before we knew it, I looked at my phone and it flashed 4:33AM.

  Bean had migrated over to the open window by this point, she was doing some serious loafing. Presumably to cool down I thought. The dregs of our hot chocolate sat in the now cold mugs and the two of us were cosy under a massive blanket. Her head gently rested on my shoulder.

I peered out through the double doors that lead to my garden, amalgamating into the sands and shells of the dark beach. The North Sea lay before me, stretching as far as the eye could see, eventually bleeding into the never ending abyss of space. An army of stars littering its canvas, shining down on us mere mortals below.

I stared at the colossal entity that was the cosmos, trying to make shapes out of its burning suns. I was at a loss at how the early astronomers of prehistory were able to see anything apart from a jumble of distant polka dots. “Hey” I whispered, gently nudging my shoulder.

“Hmm” She softly moaned to let me know she was listening.

“Do you see anything up there? You know, in the stars.” I continued, still whispering. She craned her neck back and opened her wild grassy eyes to look up at the sky above.

“I dunno” she looked from corner to corner, eventually pointing toward the right of where we were sitting “There’s Orion’s belt.”

“Nah like I mean something new, not an already existing constellation.” I prodded.

“I really can’t say. What can you see?” she asked, shutting her eyes getting comfy under the blanket again. I gazed about the dark blue sky with great curiosity. Then, directly in front of me, high above the wispy clouds I faintly made out the shape of goldfish. Probably because it was on my mind from earlier, but nevertheless, I could see it clear as day. I jostled Clio’s head once again.

“Look, there, right in front of us. Can you see a goldfish?” Groggily sitting up, she focused to where I was pointing and tilted her head.

“Yeah, I can actu…” She trailed off, as did my music. Both of us were looking at the fish in the sky, but now, the stars in our newly discovered constellation were twitching and swirling. They also began glowing much brighter than the other stars in the sky. Both of us were transfixed. The whole thing eventually started pulsing. Going dim and then shining bright. It was slow at first but then gradually got faster and faster. Then, and I’ll remember this moment until my dying day, it appeared in front of us.

 There, in the obsidian blackness of the sky, it shone down on us. A gargantuan, glowing goldfish. It swam about as if we were looking through the cold, wet glass of an aquarium. Darting about the night sky as easily as it would have underwater. Its visage, although similar to a normal goldfish, was still very different. Apart from the obvious size distinction, the one before us existed purely as an outline defined by the stars. Its body was see-through, the same inky darkness as the rest of space. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and neither could Clio given her jaw was almost touching the floor. We were both outside by this point, wanting to get as clear a look as possible.

“Te.. tell me you’re” I mumbled “you’re seeing this as well” I eventually mustered, breaking the silence.  Clio simply nodded, staring unblinkingly at the godlike being as it swished and swooshed through the cosmos.

“Okay” she finally said “Either we’ve fallen into some weird sci-fi novel or you spiked my hot chocolate” trying to make sense of the impossibility of what was happening.

“Why isn’t it cold though? I asked, looking up and down the beach, and after a few moments had passed, she eventually processed my question prompting her whip her head at me.

“There’s a massive floating fish made out of stars in the sky and you’re worried about the weather? She half yelled, with great incredulity.

“Clio, its 5 in the morning. In February. In Scotland. It should be freezing.” She thought about what I was saying and looked about as well. “Its warm though, and there’s no wind.” I paused “And no noise for that matter.” I paused again “I don’t understand”.

“It’s weird” she started “I feel like I should be scared or freaked out or… something” she looked at me “But.. it feels right. It feels like we were meant to be here. To see” she paused, looking back at the fish who was still merrily swimming about the sky “whatever this is.”  I felt the same way, in my gut. I knew that whatever was happening wasn’t meant to hurt or frighten us. So, I began walking forward, taking Clio’s hand as I did so. We walked far onto the beach. It was still warm, still completely quiet.

We eventually reached the waters edge, as close as we could get to the being in front of us, when we notice that the sea itself had stopped. It plateaued to a complete halt. No waves. No tide. Nothing. It looked like a gigantic mirror, that stretched out past the horizon. Reflecting everything that was happening above. I bent down and dipped my fingers in, expecting it to be solid but it was just as wet as the normal sea. Just completely still. As if someone had hit the pause button.

 I sat down, cross legged on the shore, as did Clio, and we watched the fish for hours. It swam to the left, to the right. It swam far away, getting smaller, then past the horizon only to jump up again as if it was a dolphin doing tricks.

The sky was gradually getting lighter, now a dusky blue, and we both knew that the fish’s departure was upcoming. Potentially any minute now. It suddenly came to a gentle stop, high in the twilight sky. It was looking right at us, into the deep-seated depths of our souls.

Now, I’m not an emotional man, it takes a lot to upset me. Even the most heart wrenching of films doesn’t evoke a reaction. But at the very moment, I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. Not out of sadness, or even happiness. It was just raw emotion. I could tell by Clio’s sniffling that she was having a similar reaction.

Then, as mysteriously as it arrived, it vanished. Its image fading back into the now pale blue of space. The stars that made up its outline, in their original position. It’s retreat from our world meant that it was back to normal, and in perfect synchronisation, the temperature dropped to just above zero, the wind blew at our backs and the once static waves drenched us in salty seawater.

Needless to say we both screamed out in discomfort, then looking at each other deep in the eyes, we embraced. I hugged her tighter than I had ever before, never in my life had I felt as close to someone as I did in that moment and I could tell she felt the same way. We swiftly then ran back to my cottage to warm up. After a nice warm and soapy shower, a fresh change of clothes (her having to borrow some shorts and a hoodie) she joined me on the couch, where we first saw the big fish, only a few hours ago.

 We sat in the conservatory, in silence for the most part. My tomato plants blew in the wind, gently tapping against the glass of the doors. Bean now sitting, curled up between us. Purring softly as I patted her silvery fur. Clio eventually spoke.

“Y’know, no one is gonna believe us” she said, in a solemn tone.

“No” I sighed, while shaking my head.

“Then why should we tell them” she exclaimed. “They’d think we were insane”. I acknowledged her sense; everyone, anyone we told, would think we were mad.

“I just don’t get why” I interjected, to which she looked puzzled “Why did that happen to us, what does it mean?”

“Does it have to mean anything?” I couldn’t help but furrow my brow, not being content with her answer “Look” she began again “When you see a sunset, a deer in the wild or you’re caught in the middle of a thunderstorm, do you ask why?” She paused, looking at me “No, you just enjoy them for what they are. Beautiful acts of nature.”

“But what we saw, Clio. It was Impossible. It shouldn’t have happened. It defies all the laws of physics that we know.”

“So?” she said, shrugging, casually as ever.

“So, don’t you want to know how all of that was possible?”

“Of course, I do, but even if I did, it wouldn’t make what just happen any more meaningful. In fact I think it would detract from the whole thing.” She could tell I was confused, which only made her smile, sit right next to me and take my hand in hers “When you see a magic trick, when you see a magician pick the card you were think of from thin air, what’s the best bit about it?” She said, looking right at me, with her wild green eyes. I thought about it for a few seconds.

“The trick” she smiled even wider “The mystery of it all and the trying to work it out.”

“And if you knew how it was done?” she continued

“It would ruin it.”

“Exactly.” I finally got what she meant and appreciated our night-time visitor all the more. I put my arm around her, pulling her into another hug. Gently kissing her on the side of her head.

 Things aren’t beautiful because we understand them or know when they’re going to happen. It’s the fleeting mystery and spontaneous nature of it all that truly makes it exciting. The late-night conversations, when you can’t stop dancing with your pals, warm hot chocolate, a cat’s affection, silly photos with funny faces and stargazing with your best friend. Its moments like these that make you really appreciate the wonderfully weird gift of life.