I was feeling like escaping away from it all, I haven't written a word for 2 weeks and my publisher will start pulling her hair if I don't write something soon. Can you believe it you write one novel and they expect five more? So I'm sitting at the computer waiting for that idea to hit me. Then I'm getting up wandering my office thinking and thinking and still the idea doesn't come. After chain smoking through 40 cigarettes and drinking a few bottles of wine, I decide to go out for a walk, somewhere quiet where no one knows where you are, somewhere where the wind blows in whispers to wake you somewhere where the sun is cool but warm making you feel sane. So here I am walking along a dirt track finding that place which makes me feel good, along a path and down a steep slope to a hill and a valley deep in the south downs of Sussex. All that walking and the sun make's wish there was a bar where I can sit and take in the view and sip a cool beer. But no this is the middle of nowhere, this is my place.
I sit down on the warm dew covered grass and let my eyes wander this landscape the light picturesque valley and the fields of poppies that I remember since I was a child. And even when I was older ready for killing myself and making my blood run into the red poppies so I could never be found till the end of the summer when the red of the poppies ceases to be. As I sit, I can hear a noise, which is really strange because I know that know one comes up here but me. I look but don't see anything. I keep listening and I hear that noise again, crying, a female crying. You can tell easily the difference between a female crying and man crying in the length of the sobs and the drones of the wail. I get up and look over a bush that I am sitting next to, I don't see a thing. I don't want to be seen as this is my place that no one knows I come to. I creep round a little further and still don't see anyone. The crying stops suddenly like they have been disturbed by something, movement. I realise it's me; I should have trod more carefully. She speaks "who's there?"
"Sorry to disturb you, but I was quietly enjoying the peacefulness of this spot when I heard crying"
"I'm just a bit upset, my parents don't give a shit about me, and my boyfriend wants me to have sex and I don't want sex with him, because I'm worried that I won't please him"
"Can I help at all, I mean do you need someone to talk to, you must be in a bit of a state to be speaking to a total stranger?"
She gets up and I see her face at the other side of the bush, she looks towards me, she must be about 18, her eyes are all puffy and red from the crying and there are dry tear marks on her face. I get out a tissue from my pocket and motion to come round and hand her the tissue. I look into her eyes and stare at this untouched female body as I walk round the bush. She has what I call see through blue eyes, deep and cool looking, eyes you can get lost in. Her mouth is small, and her nose, a little cute button. Still has a childhood features. But she's also, a woman. She is wearing a tight skinny t-shirt and a short skirt. Her breasts are not big, but still nice to look at with the nipples sticking out easily visible through her top and showing also the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra.
"Here's a tissue"
"Thank you; sorry I didn't catch your name"
"Joe, what's yours?"
