there’s a place for them – welcome to the boathouse

a while ago we had a party. one guest seems not to have left.

he wandered over the lawns for a while, casually savouring the delicate aroma of his 25yr old tullamore dew. as a lover of the irish he had gone straight past the highland malts – not even the islay malts could tempt him – if it was whisky, better make it whiskey. i don’t think he had even glanced at the taylor ’48 we had in magnum, still less the latour ’59 (the last two single bottles from the cellar – though, as this is fantasy, we will certainly unearth more if we are deserving).

as ever, he was drawn to the water – the calm repetitive lapping of the stream beyond the formal garden hypnotised him as it had in childhood. he had stood by the shore with his father, impossibly tall strong and youthful, a moment frozen in eternity. now that was a memory, remote as if it had never been and he was the one supposed to be tall, and still the water drew him. water of life. uisgeah beatha.

within the bushes, a shape loomed in the half-light of the midsummer midnight. the bushes parted, he found what might be a door and pulled. his reward was his own forgotten world; a hideaway comfortably furnished and set out to please nobody else. and a bottle of the irish; enough glasses for him and whatever guests should find it; and space to… that was the magic, the space was his to choose, to share, to own.

but he was not alone. in one of the cosier chairs was a figure, just out of the light. one he had never seen before, but familiar to him now as breathing.



5 responses to “there’s a place for them – welcome to the boathouse

  1. Some moments are so exquisite you hold them motionless inside you until the simple clay pot of your flesh silently cracks and the light you’ve been clutching with all your fragile longing begins pouring out.

    Some friendships are so deep it is as if its members were the very incarnation of Achilles and Patroclus, or those twins in Gemini we call the Dioskouroi, Kastor and Polydeukes.

    In this place nature and the moon and all her gifts were never cursed, and the world bathes herself in filaments of silver and pools of gold.

    A full life is made from a handful of such moments.

    No human can go farther.

    Here, where all myths say the feminine is the source of, and ever holds and offers the Grail, “a single hair is enough to stir the sea” (Shutaku), and “the mountains are as transient as the clouds” (Robert Green Ingersoll).


  2. and the chairs are very comfy

  3. Dear SW,

    Can we take the yacht out?

    Maybe Infidel or The Lady “of the Lake” Robinson will Captain.

    I need to find my pirate hat.


  4. blimey! so that’s what it was. well as you found the boathouse, the contents belong to you too, so feel free to do as you wish…

  5. Here’s to you Lady Robinson, a man’s a man fora that, an a that, an that, keep your clothes on though, woman, cause INFIDEL ‘twont practice infidelity, doesn’t even like the idea, nor the thoughts that lurk and form apart from the intent or leaning, WATCH THe edge of the boathouth there, that plank’s gotta slippy weak spot might find you tak’n a dip there , what I mean about the lurks my own wicked mind takes, could be the Whiskey talkin, but, and I’ll be talk’n lunch here if a bit if I don’t take a spot here on the comfy, can’t do the yaht bit til my see legs come back, whoops Lady Lady! I see your legs, shapely what? There my mouths ahead o’me brain again, got a brain? All bringing me back to that lurking thought, God help me I hear the story about some mother in the Congo, life is meaningless to her now, the story goes, you’ve heard it, some fucking bunch of gun toting male humans(for lack of a better…), blow into this jungle village and when they finally leave, but mind seeing her body and trying to fathom her mind, suffering, and I can’t begin, the report was edited from what she was able to tell the reporter because her experience got worse, I can’t even relate what the reporter deemed reportable, does that turn me on, no, but I can see her body and I can’t begin to see her mind, and if I had any control those lurking thoughts would have order, and I’d be able to pick and choose. Mind if I take one of those poles SW and….I know its a big old ocean yaht boathouse and all, but here by this comfy chair, there are pinetree smells and shuffling squirrels, all fidgety and.. that’s my thoughts, a squirrel bolting like lightning onto the next, then all nerves popping and skittish, maybe stopping once to devour with sharp buzzsaw teeth, and off to chase another squirrel, or grab a stick, STOP, skitter, skitter, BUst out, full tilt up the branch, stop twitch twitch.
    SLUNK- I have always wanted to knock back a $250.00 shot of RemyMartin, man thats warm, anyhoo I’ve been at training, three days, workshop, steam sterilizers, very interesting, won’t turn big dollars for me working on chambers, like I hope the chambers SWs gonna be working in will bring at least alot of money, not to mention the morality that puts Justice in Justice- he won’t be able to help it, poor sot. So I missed a few posts and I’ll have to work on my Pirate.

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