Its funny isn’t it how the twists and turns of life intertwine around what would seem to be a mundane existence. Its like a well traveled road, we may make our way along it thinking we know every turn and bend, but really as we do so we see nothing. We have all had the feeling of driving from a to b, a journey we do every day and when we get there we think ‘now how the hell did we get here’. It’s not that we were drunk or day dreaming it’s just that because we do it so often; it becomes the norm, uninteresting and dull. You see in every day there is always that moment, the one we have been searching for all our lives. It’s like on a dull day, that one instance when a shaft of golden sun light breaks though the grey clouds and warms the back of your neck. Sometimes we notice it and feel the warming sensation, creeping across our neck and shoulders making us secure and at one with everything realizing there is a point. Then at other times we don’t, we may feel but don’t respond, not bothering to take the time to ‘soak up’ what life is offering us. A friend of mine once said that when we stop noticing we stop responding, and in truth when we stop responding we stop ‘soaking up’ what is put before us. When we have stopped ‘soaking up’ we give ourselves no chance of ever finding what we are looking for. And so the cycle starts again, day in and day out unless something happens to break it and makes us stop and think. As a single fella my life was such a cycle. Every morning my alarm would sound, about 7am. The repetitive droning of the ‘beep beep beep’ reminding me of what the day had in store for me, exactly what I did the day before, and for the preceding days for the past 20 years. As always my hand would reach across the empty side of me bed, if I had not made a pillow body with the spare ones that would obstruct this move, and press ‘snooze’. ‘Thank god’ I would think, ‘That’s at least another 15 minutes of sleep’ as I snuggle back down trying to get back to the dream of Pamela Anderson and me on a deserted beech in the Maldives. Then all too soon the droning ‘beep beep beep’ would ring in my ears as I repeat the well practiced move of hitting the ‘snooze’ button again. This would happen least twice…..even then I would never get o grips with Pam’s famous assets…..as I suddenly realize ‘Bollocks I am late’. At this point I would enter into a blind panic, stumbling around my flat, bumping into walls that have been there since Victorian times, kicking over a half drunk cup of coffee I had left on the floor the night before and ‘Ouch’ stepping on a ‘Corona’ beer bottle cap I had dropped on the kitchen floor from the weekend just gone thinking ‘I will pick that up later’. You see I always go to bed with the best intentions of getting up early and starting the day with a healthy breakfast. I make plans in my head, buy fruit to make smoothies, make smoothie, drink smoothie, have toast, and drink tea with no sugar. But it always ends up the same, getting up late, walking past the decaying fruit in the bowl thinking ‘I will throw that away later’ and living off a diet of fags and bad coffee from service stations until I get to eat something healthy; well McDonalds after all it does have salad in. So here I am, brushing my teeth as I try to wash and put my socks on at the same time. I put on a freshly ironed shirt, really more like freshly washed and ironed on Monday as yet again failed to fulfill the plans in my head the night before. Trousers next, shoes, run my fingers though my hair, well women like a bit of rough don’t they, ‘Bollocks’ forgot deodorant so I will spray my shirt as that needs it more than me and I am off. Run out the door, down the steps, at least dropping my brand new iPhone twice, get to the car and ‘Bollocks’. Run back up the steps, dropping my iPhone only once, result, into my flat, kick the now empty coffee cup again grabbing the car keys off the bedside table and back out the flat. Down the steps now gripping my iPhone with both hands, why do we always drop things when we are in a hurry, and finally into the car. Peace at last, the familiar slightly sunken drivers seat with baggy leather sides, the well worn steering wheel and tacky ‘Pine Fresh’ car freshener all welcome me with a hearty ‘Here we go again’. Engine on, the 1.6 typical reps car springs into life, purring like a Cheetah who’s been on 40 a day since they were a cub. Chris Moyle’s chirps up on Radio 1, god does he ever stop talking about himself, as I slip the clunky gear box into reverse for a three point turn, I actually do a six point turn as cant be bothered to turn the wheel and off we go, along the same road I have driven along for the past 20 years, well at least I can switch off and relax now. The twisty turney roads send me off into a trance like state, left right, right, right; god has that bend always been that sharp. I even find the enthusiasm to have a giggle at Comedy Dave’s vain attempt at being funny on the radio. I think ‘What is the point of having a tag name of comedy when you are about as funny as your misuses finding out how to check your browsing history on the computer, those interfering cows on ‘Loose Women have a lot to answer for’. Left, left, left, god now I know that bend has never been that sharp, right left right left, right. Tractor, why do farmers drive to work on tractors, why can’t they leave the fucking things in the field where they belong and drive to work in a normal car. It would be like me driving to work on a motorized photocopier that I try and sell and repair. Overtake tractor…..opps not yet big lorry coming, overtake, left right, left right. Then splutter, as my beast of a 1.6 Astra surges forward, slows, surges again as the engine grasps at the last few breaths of petrol. ‘Bollocks’ I think ‘Why always happen to me’ as I look down at the now empty petrol gauge which is yelling at me ’It happens to you because your best intentions of getting up early to fill up on the way failed, yet again’. The car slowly drifts along the road in an eerie silence until all you can hear is the crunching of the road under the tyers, then stop. Nothing. No petrol does that to cars. I slump forward as I blindly fumble for my iPhone on the passenger seat, looking up at its glowing over happy screen dialing for the AA when I realize no signal. ‘Bollocks’, why is it you can use the phone to calculate your part of a bill, test to see if a shelf is level or get directions to the nearest cactus shop; but can fucking ‘Apple’ make a phone with a good signal, can they bollocks. I look round and my surroundings, confused, almost as if even though I have driven down this road for 20 years I don’t recognize it. The tall trees on one side, the high hedge row on the other. The dirt track to my right and the farm track to my left, signposted ‘Fresh Farm Produce’. ‘Phone’ I think, ‘They will have a phone, call the AA, buy some fruit for my smoothie in the morning then back on track, happy days.’ I get out peering over the hedge seeing how far away the farm is, nothing just a field, as I start to walk along the farm road. I smile as the spring sun hits the back of my neck creeping across my shoulders, I stop and look up at the sky as the warming sensation hits me and I think ‘Well its not that bad’. Plop, plip, plop and small little drops of water start falling on my head. I stop and look up at the sky, yeah I was right it is blue, a few whispery clouds so how the fuck can it be raining. Plip, plop, plop, plop as the drops of rain get bigger and more frequent. ‘Bollocks’ as I trudge on along an endless track that seemed to go no where. Then in the distance I see a small plume of smoke rising towards the sky, signaling me, giving me hope that the endless torment of the relentless rain against me now soaked cheap shirt and trousers will end. Then as I reach the crest of a hill I see the farm house, filled with the glee of finally reaching an end to my torment I step quickens as I open the small white picket gate and walk up to the door. I feel nervous and hesitate ringing the door bell, who lives here?, at first I remember the cartoon in ‘Viz’ of the farmer who’s catch line was ‘Get off my fucking land’ then my mind wanders, what if…….ding dong the door bell chimes. Nothing. Ding dong the door bell chimes persistently. Nothing. Ding dong ding dong ding dong the door bell shouts, nothing. I look up at the windows, and see all the curtains are drawn, and anyway it’s a farm they must have cows to milk and eggs to collect. I walk backwards towards the gate, still looking at the house when the path seems to get softer, ‘Ouch’ a quiet voice says ‘I may be wearing boots but that’s my toe’. I spin round in shock to see a woman, blond hair tasseled and wind blown, with a fresh white milky complexion and red ruby lips. I stare, like a rabbit caught in the head lights of an on coming car, my inner self says ‘Say something, go on say….’ My mouth moves, my lips part and from within my deepest heart starring at this beautiful woman I say ‘Wow……’ realizing my schoolboy error I quickly save the potentially embarrassing situation by saying ‘WOW you have a phone’. The woman laughs ‘Yes and we have fire, come in you are soaking’. She walks past me gently touching my waist with her hand and beckons me to follow her. She opens the door to her house; the warm air hits my face like two hands cupping my cheeks as I feel them redden as the blood rushes back to my face. Sniff, sniff as my nose attempts to run, ‘Sorry’ I say ‘It’s raining’. The woman laughs again ‘You don’t say I didn’t notice.’ She leads me into the lounge, the embers of a fire from night before glow in the fire place; a well worn sofa sits in front with a comforting fury throw over one arm. The woman says ‘Now would you like to use the phone or are you trying to sell me something’. I laugh embarrassingly loudly saying ‘Not unless you want a photocopier’. The woman looks blankly, smiles and says ‘I have one of those already’. She points to a table where a phone was sitting and she says ‘Help yourself’. I nod and say ‘Thanks’ as I shuffle over to the receiver and pick it up. I look up as she walks out, she shouts ‘Tea’ to which I reply ‘Coffee if you have it’, her head pops round the door and says ‘I think I can manage that’ then she disappears to the sound of clanking cups. Now why is it every time you phone the AA it’s always an hour before they can get someone to you, apart from when you not really bothered. A woman at the call centre cheerily informs me that she can have some one with me in half an hour, half expecting a thankful reply I mumble ‘Thanks that’s really kind’. I give my membership details and she asks for a contact number I shout towards the kitchen ‘Excuse me, what’s your number’ the woman replies ‘Oh you are forward, its 017.......’. I relay the information and after a small battle of me saying no to car insurance, pet insurance, house insurance, sick insurance, theft ID insurance, Credit insurance, life insurance she finally gives up the ghost and the call ends. Now what do I do, do I wait in the lounge or do I venture into the kitchen uninvited, what are the risks, what are my choices, my question was answered as the same small sweet voice shouts ‘Its getting cold’. I followed the direction of the voice into the kitchen, where I see the woman standing against the work surface. A shaft of sun light beams though the window, silhouetting her, highlighting her tasseled hair and shining though the baggy sides of her white shirt. I could see the slim sides of her torso, the material falling across her firm breasts like a carefully laid table cloth, and then nip in towards her waist where her body delves into darkness as it reaches the top of her tight work jeans. She sips from her cup and says ‘It’s nice……the sun, its not often I stop to feel the warmth on my neck and shoulders’. I walk towards the kitchen top to get my cup, I say ‘I know what you mean; the sun gets hot this time of year’. The woman laughs again and says ‘Do you always say the obvious’; she holds out her hand and says ‘Ness, well it’s Vanessa but most people call me Ness’. I take her hand, its strangely soft and warm, my finger curls trapping itself between her palm and mine like some strange secret hand shake, ‘Paul………but most people call me’, I pause, ‘Well Paul’. We both laugh as I feel Ness’s finger curl to meet mine, we freeze, stuck in that one single moment, the first touch, lingering, never ending, sensual. Ness says ‘Well you must be freezing’, she breaks the grip, it feels like a TV being unplugged and watching the picture gently fade away. She leans back and grabs a towel from behind her and throws it to me. I smile and start to dry my hair as Ness says ‘It’s the dogs…..’ she girlishly laughs and turns her back on me resting her cup on the work surface. I notice how slim she is, the belt gripping her waist underlining her perfect figure. Her jeans clinging to her shapely legs to the top of her boots ‘God you would look good in heels’. Ness spins on her toes and says ‘What did you say’. ‘Bollocks’ I blurt out ‘I said that out loud didn’t I.’ Ness stares deep into my eyes, I think well at least the AA wont be long and I have had a coffee. My mind wanders secure in the knowledge that I have totally cocked this up, avoiding her gaze thinking if I can’t see you, you can’t see me. Now where are my fags? Then I feel a breath, warm, sweet, air blow across my ear as Ness whispers ‘Not as good as this’. I turn to face her, our noses touch, just, gently; a feeling of immense warmth spreads down my back. She rubs the tip of her nose across my cheek and down the side of my neck as she nestles into the pit of my shoulder. Its funny how sometimes things just fit. She was the right height to rest her head; my shoulder was wide enough for her head to rest. The perfect jigsaw piece to complete my picture, it felt right, it felt faultless. My hands slid up her outer thigh to her waist, gripping just above the belt, letting her know that I felt the spark of that indefinable emotion ‘the need to be wanted’ as well. I gripped tighter feeling her warm skin through her shirt, my fingers getting brave as they tease the shirt away from her jeans and my hands maneuver underneath. Ness sighs, her lips touching my neck, not kissing but resting, savoring the moment. One of my hands leave the warmth of her smooth skin and I run my fingers up the small of her back, I feel her body tremble and she leans into me raising one leg slightly and the other resting between mine. My hand moves across her shoulders and then to the side of her neck and I rub up and down, gentle caressing the back of her head then back down her neck. We explore each others bodies, her hands moving up and down the my chest, fingers probing in between the buttons, my leg in between hers in sync with her movements grinding into her groin pushing the material of her jeans against her un questionable beauty spot. Ness breaths heavily as she responds to my movements, pushing herself down onto my leg, then moving, sliding, rubbing herself up and down me. My hand moves to the back of her head, my fingers intertwining in between her long locks of blond hair, gently pulling her back, coaxing her head away from the sanctuary of my shoulder, her face rubs against mine until our noses are side by side, lips nearly touching. So close to my face she seems blurred, but still beautiful, my minds eye cast an image of her stood in the shaft of sun light by the window, the one moment I have searched everywhere for but never found; after all the pointless dates, impossible friends trying to set you up, when all I need to do was to see where I was going and who was there. I pressed my hand into the back of her head and as simple as a hot knife through butter, there was no resistance and our lips met. That first kiss, lips both wet with anticipation, both red and swollen with excitement; they press against each other slightly parting. Two bodies, both wanting, both searching finally meeting at the right moment, in the right way at the right time. The first kiss is so tender as we press harder, more passion, more feeling tongues exchanging touches, the second kiss is rawer, exciting, but it lasts for ever. But you always remember the first. ‘Beep beep beep’, the alarm sounds; I lean over in my mechanical way and hit the snooze. Its Sunday, I love setting the alarm on a Sunday, knowing that I don’t have to get up. It’s a beautiful day with the sun streaming through the crack in the curtains and everything seems good, no work, and a day of rest and relaxation. I lean over and gently kiss Ness on the cheek, her beautiful face looking back at me as she gently awakes from her sleep. ‘Tea’ I said, she laughed and replied ‘As long as I don’t have to get the milk my little ray of sunlight’ It’s strange how the twist and turns of life intertwine with fate. How from something so innocent, so shit gripping annoying, something great can happen. My dad lost his eye sight when he was 72 yrs old after battling diabetes and he said at the point he lost his sight was when he really started seeing. I never really understood that until now, because if you can no longer see the things that make you sad, depressed or annoyed you have time to see the things that make you happy; and they are the things that count. My friend who said that if you stop noticing you stop responding forgot one thing. If you loose hope, you stop caring but if you give you self a chanced to think ‘maybe’ perhaps you would see the things that you care about and see something that you would have never found. This short story is dedicated to all the ones we love, by remembering the first touch, the first kiss, the first moment when you realize you have found what you are looking for will help you through anything life or fate throws at you. TRIGG