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Not Enough Hours In A Day
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TITLE (EDIT)
Not Enough Hours In A Day |
DESCRIPTION
For those people who say there's never time to do something - there is! Don't sit around putting it off - do it!
[715 words] |
AUTHOR
Peter Halpin |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Please feel free to give reviews, I always appreciate an honest opinion of my stuff.
www.peterhalpin.co.uk
[August 2006] |
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
pete_halpin@hotmail.com |
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (31)
A Summer Storm (Poetry) I love to watch a good storm! Don't know what it is, but it's like a log fire - I can just sit and stare for ages! [56 words]
All Or Nothing (Short Stories) Loosely based around an experience I had, but is generally about a one sided feeling of attraction that pushes the character to the edge. Written in the 1st person to be more personal. [1,087 words]
Balance (Poetry) I don't want to give anything away by describing this one. It's about losing something important. [19 words]
Brian (Poetry) Slightly silly little poem, but it has a sense of emotion as well. [25 words]
Careless (Poetry) One of my first ever attempts at poetry! I remember my English teacher at the time saying I should keep writing - so blame her!! [109 words]
Dead Designers (Poetry) It was when Versace died and there was huge news coverage, I just thought how shallow it all was. Ok, a man died. It's not good news, but is it big news compared to a million people dying? I thought n... [90 words]
Discomfort (Poetry) Actually written in a German seminar at Uni. I'd had enough of the tutor's ambling drone and started to write - this is the result! Take from it what you will!! [148 words]
Drifters (Poetry) I just let my hand write whatever cam into my head...enjoy!! (It's not meant to be pretentious, but if you find something in it you like then great!) [85 words]
Effort (Poetry) About not giving up and giving your all. [47 words]
Forever Immortal (Poetry) Looking back over photographs of myself I thought no matter where I go from here I was always going to have been there, in that moment as I was and there is no changing that. It is forever in history ... [58 words]
Growing Old Alone (Poetry) I realised I hadn't had a woman in my life for a while and began to wonder if I ever would again! (Any lovely ladies out there...?!) [41 words]
Happy Again (Poetry) About the first accidental meeting with an ex that it took you ages to get over while you're having an otherwise great night out, and then she walks past in slo-mo and you recall a hundred occasions i... [89 words]
Home From Home (Poetry) After moving out from the house of Ma & Pa to live under my own roof for the first time, I soon found myself crawling back on hands & knees needing my old room back! [57 words]
Natural Colours (Poetry) Standing at my Grandfather's modest grave and looking at the flowers laid for him I had this odd idea. [56 words]
Near Death (Poetry) After falling head over heels for a girl that I knew, I decided to 'make the move'. She very bluntly turned me down. [108 words]
Needing To Get Away (Poetry) I was just kind of fed up of the way things weren't going my way and scribbled this. It's a bit tongue on cheek, but is summed up in the last line! [38 words]
No Tears (Poetry) I have no idea why I wrote thisor where it came from, but it's fairly self-explanatory. [40 words]
Not To Be (Poetry) Being so alone can feel like there's no way out. [48 words]
Oh If Only (Poetry) If only the world was like this - living together as a unit, as a team - as a world. [66 words]
One Day Soon (Poetry) Just realised I wasn't going anywhere, but kept telling everyone what I wanted to do, but just sat about waiting for it to 'happen'. [35 words]
So I Said (Poetry) Us blokes just find it hard to say, ok?! [46 words]
Someone We Do Not Know (Poetry) I have absolutely no religious beliefs other than it's all a load of nonsense; but that's just my opinion - if I find myself in Hell one day I'll admit I was wrong all along! [182 words]
Someone's Playing God (Poetry) Along the same lines as 'Someone We Do Not Know', but with more belief and more sinister. [127 words]
Stood Up (Poetry) A not particularly serious little poem about those annoying moments of knowing she (or he) just isn't going to turn up! [28 words]
Sunburn (Poetry) After seeing people lying in the sun and turning into cancer-potential lobsters I just couldn't help but think how stupid some people really are! [37 words]
The End Of The World (Poetry) Fairly self-explanitory title really! [80 words]
The Show (Poetry) I found myself sitting in a huge, but empty auditorium. It felt odd being so quiet, but still all the seats watched an empty stage. (Each stanza is supposed to look like steps up to a stage!) [143 words]
The Tease (Poetry) About really fancying someone when they're your friend and they know it but just let you suffer it! [73 words]
Trust Them (Poetry) I began to think how much trust we put in inanimate objects. [107 words]
Up To Speed (Poetry) I always knew what I wanted to do with my life, but was afraid to take the plunge. I kept saying, 'next week' or 'tomorrow', but kept wimping out. This was a kick up my own backside! [200 words]
Weighing It Up (Poetry) About realising you need someone who sometimes seems too much effort. [48 words]
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Not Enough Hours In A Day
Peter Halpin
The poster had been on the wall for a while. So much so that the blu-tac gripping both the back of the cheap plastic and the beige wallpaper had become moist, greasy, forever staining both materials. The face upon it was eye-catching, posed and characteristic, somehow charismatic that held the gaze. The gaze of Susannah.
'What it must feel like to be like them', she thought imagining herself under the warmth of studio lights and the quick flashing of the photographer's equipment. She turned around to the openness of her small but somehow spacious living room; and she saw it all there. The studio whitewash walls, the light stands and umbrellas, the photographer with his plethora of cameras and pieces that looked almost military. She pulled off her thin jumper and threw it on the sofa in the way that only the homeowner could. And she posed at the photographer, and again, and again, pouting, moody, leaning forward, crouching, the lot. She moved the old coffee table that used to belong to her parents and had always been a fixture in any living room of hers since her memory opened up and sprawled out on the pale green carpet, pushing her hand out through it, cat-like.
As she did so, she let her head come to rest on her upper arm and she stared at the face of the settee. The photographer had gone. The studio was no more. The light returned to the slightly off white that 11 o'clock of a winters morning supplies. Her face was a blanket of blankness. She felt sorrow, pity and a tear fall from her eye, hitting the floor without even touching her cheek. She lay here for a long time, wanting to get up, knowing she had to get up. She didn't want to see that poster; not right now.
At 3:50pm the sound of kids laughing over the top at mild swear words and exaggerated tales of their lunchtime conquests could be heard outside, as they wanted them to be. Susannah watched them, enviously. They had choices, freedom, energy and a future. Susannah, she thought, she convinced herself, didn't. At 25, single and unemployed, Susannah felt she was doomed to failure, that there was no changing the past, no going back. And yet going forward was on a treadmill. She dreamt of being a star of admiration, attention, status. She dreamt it all the time.
At 5:40pm Susannah shut down her PC and headed to the kitchen. It had needed re-tiling for some time. The now off-white tiles with faded thinly patterned yellow lines looked cold and unwelcoming.But they reminded her of her Grandmother's house, when she would run in while her Dad's mother was baking and would sing and dance and smile like little girls do. These empty tiles were full of memories to Susannah. They showed her things that no-one else could see, they reminded her of the heart she had, of the little girl that will always be inside her but that Susannah feels has long gone.
Susannah stared at the water droplets in the limescale-coated sink until she didn't realise where she was and disappeared to a field in Southern France, possibly Italy. She was wearing a flowing, light, airy dress patterned the same as the kitchen tiles and she danced effortlessly through the sweetly smelling breeze that cooled her brow and blew through her mousey, clean hair. Petals appeared to fall from little, low-flying clouds, showering Susannah's flight and her bare feet, professionally pointed as she wished she could. Her smile was as broad and genuine as a young lover's.
She felt too many tears welling up, this time staying in her eye lids and returned to the sink, rubbed her face, let out a hefty sigh and allowed a smile of regret to fall onto one side of her thinly lipped mouth. 'Tomorrow', she thought quite deliberately, 'I will change. I will. I will.' "Susannah, you will", she said aloud to herself as a mother would to a disobedient toddler. She washed the dishes, dried her hands and sauntered back to the living room, offering a glance at the poster. The poster looked back, as it did every time, with poise and grace. Susannah loved to envy that image.
Tomorrow was the beginning of the weekend.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2007 Peter Halpin |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
December 2007 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1838
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