A collection of short stories written by Gareth Davies author of novels Maggie’s Milkman and Extraordinary Rendition. Over 800 free short stories and 100 poems. Please note all works are first drafts. Enjoy, leave comments, share on social media and be inspired.
Check out the details of my novels here
Wednesday, 25 May 2016
A Take On Me
As regular readers will know, I sometimes like to play around or experiment with my stories. Often my experiments are not technically my best stories, but they can be fun to write and hopefully fun to read. This story almost wrote itself whilst I was listening to a best of 1985 compilation on YouTube. There are song titles scattered through this little fictional memoir, how many can you spot? The list is at the end. For audio click here.
It was that long hot summer of ’85. The glory
days, the year when the sun never seemed to set, Starship’s We Built this City on Rock and Roll pumped
out of the radio, the grass in the park was straw white and the lump in my
chest developed into a heart. I remember in the spring of 1985 all I wanted to
do was play football; girls were made of slugs and snails and puppy dog tails.
But, by the end of that summer, I couldn’t fight the feeling any more, the heat
was on, I’d felt the power of love.
The girl that was responsible for this
awakening was a girl that I met on our family holiday to Spain. Her name was
Maria Magdelana, and from the first minute I saw her, I thought to myself, I
want to know what love is and I want her to show me.
It was easy back then, I had no fear. I
marched up to her and said.
“I’m crazy for you.”
I reckon I’d get a slap if I tried that
these days. But I guess she was used to the boys of summer and their cheek. She
smiled a real coy smile that hid the fact that, if truth be told, she was a bit
of an easy lover.
“Kiss me!” she said.
We spent most of the two weeks walking around the hotel holding hands or trying
to find places our parents would find us to explore further.
“We belong together,” I said, as we were
dancing to the rhythms of the night. But the two weeks passed too quickly, I
wished for one more night, but it wasn’t to be. The last night was full of
tears and careless whispers.
“I’ll be saving all my love for you,” I
“Don’t you forget about me,” she said in
that lovely Spanish accent.
Despite the promises, we soon did forget
about each other. Well, I assume she forgot about me and I was enjoying my new
found status as lover boy. I liked to think of myself as a smooth operator back
then. I’d got into the groove and I wasn’t going to get out of it. I’d cherish
a girl called Nikita, got Kayleigh body and soul, went head over heels for a
material girl. It became a bit of an
obsession that summer. I think there were nineteen in all.
But suddenly it was over. Almost as quickly
as it had begun, my days of being a wide boy were confined to history. I didn’t
want freedom any more. Why, well I met a girl who was born in the USA. To start
with I thought she’s strange but she soon had me walking in the air. She had me
planning a white wedding even though I was only fifteen. And thirty years later,
I’m still in heaven, still in love with my Frankie.