Latest Blog Post

Unconditional compassion

---

He lay still, the muted hum of the city outside their window wrapping itself around the edges of the room. The soft rhythm of her breath filled the silence, each exhale a quiet reassurance of her presence. She was asleep, her face turned slightly toward him, a strand of hair resting against her cheek. He thought about brushing it away but decided against it. There was something sacred about her stillness, a tranquillity he was unwilling to disturb.

His fingertips traced invisible lines along her shoulder, the curve of her arm, the ridge of her collarbone. He wasn't even sure why he did it ... it wasn't an act of ownership, that's for sure. It was more like a silent dialogue, a way of reminding himself she was real, here, tied up to him in this shared moment of quiet.

He felt a kind of gratitude, as though her very existence was a gift he wasn't entirely sure he deserved. And yet she came in a form of a joint. One single joint that changed his life forever and probably hers, just don't fuck it up, he told himself. There was a moment in his life where his phone was allergic to incoming calls and even his shadow took the long way around to avoid him. Is it over, though?

They say opposites attract and he knew this to be true, but no one tells you what happens when they collide ...

The dim room flickered with sudden light as his phone screen illuminated the bedside table. For a moment, it felt like a stranger walking into a private conversation. He blinked, his trance broken and glanced at the glowing screen.

A text from Zo. Of course. "What was that noise, like you were strangling a wild animal." He picked up the phone, dialled reception and asked for an upgrade.