What is love? – GS.

Tattoos that tell a story.  Frank learns more about his friend, Isolde.

Scene setting :  Jax’s Coffee House – GS.

Co-written with Chor.

Chor: Isolde nodded her head, thinking of low, low times in her life. Isolde just happened to be in the right place at the right time to save Frank, but Isolde had no one but Khalil, who practically dragged the ambulance to her apartment. The kid knew she wasn’t right and he saw where she was headed, but if he had been just ten minutes later, it would have been too late. His hand came to rest over hers and she looked at it, goosebumps crawling up her sleeved arm , over her clavicle and up her neck, where the baby hairs in the back raised. His thumb caressed her hand as he took it into his. She focused a bit, making sure he didn’t flip the hand over; view the wrist. Suddenly, he withdrew, and she looked up at the waitress, blinking.

Finally, her meal arrived and she pulled her napkin into her lap; wouldn’t want to ruin such lovely shorts with a blackberry stain. Frank’s meal had not yet arrived and she refused to eat, despite his urgings about it ‘getting cold’. Patience is a virtue. Her mother would have rolled in her grave if she’d begun eating. The thought made her grin. She poured a little cream in her coffee, then a literal ton of sugar. She liked coffee’s effects, but not the taste. She drank a lot of coffee as a youngster, but only because her family couldn’t afford it for years until the market went down, so then they drank it religiously.

In my family, we do not eat until everyone has been served,” she said politely, not wanting to make Frank upset because clearly he was just trying to make her happy. Isa appreciated this fully; it was more than anyone else ever tried to do. He mentioned the tattoos then and her face changed. She’d totally forgotten, wrapped up in her outfit of something that wasn’t quite choice.

“Ah, well. If I had a shirt on under this, I’d likely pull this off to show you, but you’ve seen quite a bit of it already,” she said, rubbing her neck, “but it’s a poem in Hebrew:

In the merciful time, at twilight,
Bow your head and I’ll reveal,
the secret of my torments:
They say there is youth in the world-
Where is my youth?

And another secret I will confess:
My soul has been seared by a flame;
They say there is love in the world-
What is love?”

Razorbackwriter:  Watching Isa as she mentioned that in her family it was tradition to wait until all plates were on the table had Frank taken off guard slightly. He honestly thought that he was being polite in asking her to go ahead and start. Thankfully, one of the waitresses brought over Frank’s order – placing the eggs benedict down before him as he whipped a napkin out from under his cutlery and draped it across his lap. Well, I have mine now so..”

Conversation went back onto the strange markings that ran up and down Isa’s legs. She mentioned that had it not been for the fact she was only wearing the hoody as a top, that she could show him the extent of the markings. Truth be told, he got a good eyeful back at the apartment when she was hunting for a towel. Frank toyed with his fork as he listened to the poem, which is what the markings represented in hebrew. This was the first that Frank had ever heard of someone having an entire poem tattooed on their body. Made a change from the usual fare, of flowers, butterflies and ex girlfriend’s names.

Cutting into his toast and then dipping it into the holanaise sauce, Frank nodded as he was deeply impressed. “Must have been hell getting it done.” Frank clearly was not a fan of the tattooist needle. He then popped the toast into his mouth and chewed heartily – thankfully with his mouth closed. Frank had excellent table manners around the ladies. With the guys, well that was another story.

“You know, Tommy Elissa and me were here just the other night. Mhm. We were running on adrenaline, I can tell you.”This was before the shooting….right before. Funny how Frank had ended back there again for breakfast. To be honest, Frank didn’t mind. His cooking left a lot to be desired, plus his pantry was not exactly packed with choice ingredients. Like many it was simply easier and more enjoyable to eat out.

Frank took another mouthful, this time with egg and bacon on his fork. You could tell he had an appetite, but still tried to make interesting conversation. Placing down his cutlery, he reached for his cup of coffee and then took a sip. Amazing how coffee just perked him right up.

“So what do you do…for fun? Away from the lab, I mean.”

And here come the questions.


Chor:  Oh, gute,” she said, her ‘gute’ a sort of German-American mixture of the word. Old habits die hard.

Isolde smiled at Frank, lifting her own cutlery to cut her crepe as he settled the napkin upon his lap. The first bite was utter euphoria and Isa’s mouth and stomach reveled that finally she was eating real, delicious, and nutritious food. Truth be told, the last time she’d had crepes was the morning before Claura’s disappearance. She’d sung silly tines their grandmother taught them as she cooked the German crepes and wrapped in them the redcurrant jam. Isolde used to remember that as the last happy day she’d ever have. Of course, who could have predicted that yesterday could have changed her so fully. She took another bite as Frank went on about the tattoo. A shrug moved in her shoulders. It wasn’t painful to her, who has a pretty high pain tolerance; and in fact -though she won’t likely ever admit it- she actually enjoyed it. She felt as if she deserved the pain.

At the mention of Tommy – that must be the reporter- and Elissa – who must be the woman- Isa again wondered if they were alright. Frank really ought to call his friends back. He surprised her then, with a question about what she did outside of the lab. This was going to be an awkward answer, since all she truly did was work in the lab, then take cat naps and eat vending machine food. She should tell him about before her small, abysmal life began.

Well, I’ve really been lacking there lately, but I’m also employed at the American Museum of Natural History in the Forensic Anthropology department. I used to do studies, demonstrations, and tours and all that. Mainly. I did a lot of casework, working on specific bodies we’d get in. I also used to play in the symphony. Strings; cello mostly, but a little violin or viola occasionally. I mean, I’m no master at it, so second seat was pretty exciting for me. Before…I used to ride horses often. There’s something about them that’s so elegant and just altogether they’re just magnificent beasts to interact with.

That was the end of her spiel. She didn’t really do much aside from work after school started. She figured she had to dive head first to pay off her loans, but as soon as that was done she still remained deeply buried into the workplaces. Her friends from school all lived close and they would often meet to hang out, but after Claura she pretty much dropped everything.

Razorbackwriter;  Some of us find it hard to get time to have any kind of life outside our working hours. Frank’s used to revolve around his son, but of course when his ex took him away that left Frank with little to do but drink and spend his waking hours at home studying the wall. The wall being the one in his home office with the trails to nowhere on Rory’s death. Some nights he wouldn’t even sleep. Just sitting in his old leather chair and rock back and forth slowly. His mind going over that night again and again till the first rays of light would filter through to the office. Not much of an existence.

Frank ate heartily as Isa told him all of her life away from work which was a darn sight more interesting then his own story. Nodding at appropriate times and only placing his cutlery down to replace them with his cup of coffee, he was genuinely interested. She was also employed at the American museum of Natural History A role that Frank was sure was of some importance. Is was also into music. Playing the cello – as well as a little violin. Frank smiled at the mention that she was second seat in the symphony, which meant she must be good.

The last part however brought a big smile from Frank, she used to ride horses. Why you might wonder this brought such a reaction was due to the fact it triggered a memory of just how much his ex hated them. Whenever there was a parade and the police horses came along, his ex put on such a performance it was a wonder people didn’t throw down money in front of her. Drama Queen.

“I couldn’t agree more. Majestic and beautiful creatures. I haven’t ridden though since my teens. My parents used to send me out to the Grandparents farm some holidays and that is where I learnt to ride.” Course he couldn’t go near horses after Missy reacted to them so badly. Much to his Grandparents disappointment. He hadn’t been able to go visit with his son, thanks to Missy. How he hated the woman.

Frank placed his cutlery down on his cleaned plate with a clink, before picking up his napkin and dabbing his lips.

“I enjoyed that. You know, you are a very interesting woman, Isa. You’d make quite the catch. If only I had a net.” At this he laughed at his own poor joke. Such a sad sack.

“Enjoying those crepes?”




Peter Gabriel – In Your Eyes.

Peter Gabriel has always had music that was ahead of the time of the era that he wrote it in.  This song, “In Your Eyes” was used as the pivotal piece in the late 80’s movie; “Say Anything”, featuring John Cussack and Lone Sky.  The video is  a wondrous visual treat, and always gives me goosebumps at the beauty of the lyrics.

“In Your Eyes”

love I get so lost, sometimes
days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
when I want to run away
I drive off in my car
but whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are
all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat I see in your eyes
love, I don’t like to see so much pain
so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive
and all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the insidein your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light,
the heat I see in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes

For those that have never see “Say anything”  here is a trailer.  For those that love a good classic movie from the 80’s….it’s worth looking out for.  I really am a hopeless romantic.  Cheers.  RB x

A Nun’s Habit – GS.

Scene setting : The streets outside St Luke’s Cathedral.


Razorbackwriter:  The Sisters of Immaculate Chastity were having a good old fashioned sing song on the small church bus as they drove through town on the way back to the Cathedral. The children at the ward all loved the toys and happy smiles of the nuns, who never missed the chance to spread some of God’s love and cheer amongst the dear little cherubs. Sister Marjorie was especially pleased with herself, since her snappy rendition of “The Lord’s prayer” was a right hit with the nurses and of course the well heeled Doctor Sloane. Now however they had one last stop before going back to help with the bingo night that Father Thomas always did on a Friday night.

“Should we stop and pick up some more cookies, Sister Mary Jane?” A voice from the back called out. It was Sister Stevie, one of the wilder ones of the group. Her face bright and cheerful as she waited for a reply. Sister Marjorie was of course still in high spirits over the hospital visit.

“I’m pretty sure that there are enough there at the kitchen, Sister Stevie.” She didn’t even look back to see the smile fall from Sister Stevie’s face. Little did Sister Marjorie know that Sister Stevie had an ulterior motive. “Well, I am pretty sure that the barrel was a bit low after Wednesday night choir practice. Uhm…why don’t you just drop me off at the corner across the road from the Cathedral and I can grab a few packets.” It was pretty clear that Sister Stevie was not giving up.

“Oh…oh alright. But you hurry along. You know how Father Thomas gets.” This was a warning, since he was known to have something of a short temper, as much as he tried to hide it. Pulling the small bus over the singing stopped long enough for Sister Stevie to get off. She stood on the pavement and waved the Sisters off, as they continued on to the Cathedral – just a few minutes away.

Pleased to be out of the bus, Sister Stevie looked up and down the street. It was an odd sort of night, with many of the usual crowd that you would expect to see. But there was a club that was two doors up from the 7 Eleven that had a group of scruffy looking kids trying to get a rise out of the bouncer. They clearly were not dressed well enough to enter the club, which had a strict policy for their dress code. The bouncer was keeping a stiff upper lip, but the youths were hurling abuse, and using racial taunts.

Sister Stevie kept her head down and tried to walk around the group, but one girl happened to notice her. A red head that was sporting a leather studded vest, a short black skirt with tattered fish net stockings and boots. They weren’t the fancy kind, but more like Doc Martins. Her head turned to follow the nun, who was now on a mission to just get to the convenience store and buy the cookies as promised. But as she was almost outside the entrance, a voice called out to her.

“Nice habit, Sister.’

This had Sister Stevie stop in her tracks. She turned around and came to see it was the same girl that had stood out from the group at the club. “Why…thank you, child.” There was an awkward pause as the girl looked her over. “You don’t look like the flying nun.” That being a character from a vintage TV show classic. Sister Stevie chuckled softly under her breath.“No…we moved with the times. Like you…I guess.” Of course she was referring to what the girl was wearing. The girl bobbed her head, chewing some gum lazily as she took the nun at her word. “Right. Uhm…listen. Me and the gang are heading back to see….a sick friend. You don’t think you could possibly come and….I don’t know.” she twirled her wrist as though she was trying to explain what she meant. “do your…thing. Pray for him. He’s looked like death for a while now.”

Sister Stevie’s face fell at the news that the girl had a sick friend in need of God’s word. She was supposed to be buying cookies for the Cathedral kitchen. But when someone needed God’s care, she had to oblige. “Is it far?” There was a hint of nervousness in her voice. The city could be so dangerous at night.

“A block or two. I promise that you won’t be kept long. It would really mean a lot.”

“Oh…oh okay. Lead the way, child.”

The red headed girl almost skipped at the prospect of the Nun coming down to the group’s hide out. “Just this way. Come on.” The girl reached for Sister Stevie’s hand and dragged her off down the nearest alley. Past homeless men and winos. Sister Stevie almost tripped over a loose part of the road, but the girl had a great deal of strength and kept up the pace. Soon they were standing outside what looked to be an abandoned building. This was getting creepier by the second. “He’s just in there. You’ll find him lying on an old matress down in the back office.”

Sister Stevie hesitated for a moment, before the girl opened the door which had had the lock broken off. She stood silently holding the door.

“He…needs you, Sister.”

Taking a deep breath and trying to summon all her courage, Sister Stevie entered the abandoned building. In the furtherest corner of the building was a light. It must have been the office that the red head had mentioned.

“Hello?” Her voice sang out, but only an echo returned.

“I’m Sister Stevie….from the Cathedral……I was told there was someone here that needed God’s love.”

“Oh I need more than his love…..Sister.”


A sinister sounding voice came from right behind her. The poor woman froze as she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. A shadow moved in the office, but who was behind her.

“I’m here to help.”

“And help you shall. Or rather….I am going to help myself to you.” The man tore off the nun’s headpiece and coif, her hair tumbling out long and down her back. She let out a terrified scream as the man bit down into her neck. Feasting on her blood, while she reached out to the darkness. There was nothing sweeter than the blood of an innocent virgin, and the man’s eyes rolled back as he continued to gorge on her crimson life force. The shock of the attack caused the nun to be faint, and soon she fell limp in his powerful arms. Blood ran down her chest and splattered on the warehouse floor.

“Told you I could get you one.” The red head was leaning against a crate, watching the feeding frenzy with a gleeful expression. Only when the man had had his fill did he drop the nun to the floor. She was barely alive.

The Vampire wiped his stained mouth with the back of his hand and let out a wild howl of satisfaction.

“She….REALLY did help after all.”



South Beach – Paradise.


A 747 Boeing jumbo has crashed off a small deserted island, somewhere between Australia and Asia.  Survivors are spread across the island terrain and the search for others begins.


Scene setting : South Beach.

Co-written with Chris and Para.

Chris:  Isabell was just coming to, her left cheek was pressed against the sand and her hair was more than a mess. No doubt, she probably just looked like a corpse from far away to anyone who was out there. Slowly though, she began to lift her head and glanced around, squinting as she did so. She did hear faint voices, but they were blurred by her panicked thoughts. Mom, where are you? Mom! She had the intentions to scream, but nothing came out, she just forced herself to get up, stumbling all the while.

Razorbackwriter:  The crashing of the waves against the sandy shore was the first sounds to filter through Doug’s mind. His body rolled helplessly through the water till finally coming to rest on the shore line – the water receding away from his blooded and saturated body. At first he lay still, then a sudden gasp came from his mouth as water tore up and out from his lungs. The vile taste of salt stinging his throat and tongue. Rolling slowly, Doug moved slightly, but a sharp pain triggered yet another cry from the young Australian. His eyes opened to what was the blinding light of the sun and he reached up to shield his eyes from the brightness. “Where am I?’ his voice hoarse and croaky. Another loud cough and he brought up the rest of the sea water from his lungs. The spot where he lay was now stained with his blood, but as another wave rolled up the beach, it would be washed back, spreading the discoloration further.

Squinting, Douglas tried to push himself up to sitting. He was completely disoriented, and confused. Last thing he remembers was texting his girl who was waiting for him back home.

..I have something to tell you, but I want to see the look on your face… Those were the last words she wrote. The stark realization hit him. Douglas had been on a plane. Breathing rapidly, he started to panic as he came to the conclusion that he had somehow managed to survive a plane crash. Was he the only survivor? Scanning the area around him, was washed up pieces of luggage and small parts from the inside of the plane. A doll was floating in the water. ~Oh God.~

Slowly, Douglas pushed himself to his feet unsteadily. He couldn’t be the only one.



Para: Cris walked around the beach it felt like he was had been walking for years but it had only really been 15 minutes. ”Where is she” he mumbled to himself. His main priority was finding his younger sister he would do anything possible to find her. Seeing other people he didnt even bother to stop since he didnt have a reason to. ”I have to find her” he said before he walked over to the beach water to drink some. Even if it wasn’t good to drink the ocean water he needed something to keep his mouth hydrated.


Chris:  Isabell was finally standing upright, no longer stumbling around as she glanced around the beach, trying to find a figure that would resemble her mother. She was breathing heavily, panicking. She let herself fall back down to the sand, raising her knees to rest her elbows on. Stifling a sob, she put her face in her hands, letting her dark brown hair fall around her as she cried. She didn’t know what to do and she didn’t have hope.


Razorbackwriter:  It wasn’t long before other survivors were either wandering aimlessly up and down the beach or just huddling on the sand bawling their eyes out. So there were other survivors. That was a blessing. At least Douglas wasn’t all alone. Finding his balance, the first thing he wanted to do was check on the others. One guy walked straight passed him, muttering about how he had to find her? Had he lost his companion, his loved one? Douglas’s face creased in concern and tried to catch up to the guy to help him look. Jogging up towards him, he saw the guy actually walk into the sea to get a drink?

“Dude! That sea water is bad for you. I know, I just coughed up a lungful.”

Placing his hand up to his brow, to act like a shade shield from the sun; Douglas then pointed out the girl up the beach further that was crying on the sand. Douglas instantly put two and two together. “Hey, is that the girl you’re looking for?”Douglas was hopeful that she might be the one and the same.



Para:  Before he even drank it Cris spit it out of his mouth when he heard the male. Looking up at him he smiled lightly ”Yeah Thanks. Sorry that you coughed up water I know that was horrible” he said as he ran his hand through his hair standing up against the shore. ”I hate that we cant drink sea water , I dont want to die from dehydration” he said as he folded his arms then looked at the male who was standing there. Looking in the direction he pointed he was hoping it was his sister but it wasnt. ”No” he said in a low tone as he sighed although she did kind resemble his sister because of the dark hair color. ”Maybe we should go help her though , it seems as if she does need some” Cristopher said before he dusted off his pants and headed over in the females direction. ”Im Cristopher by the way.”


Razorbackwriter:  Horrible was a pretty good word to describe what it was like to cough up a lung full of sea water, although Doug could probably come up with a few more, since he still had a sore throat. Douglas immediately acknowledged the guy with a half smile, though in the back of his mind he was still wanting to know what happened. Truth was he couldn’t remember. As he patted down his sodden clothing for his phone; which sadly he couldn’t find, Cris was dissapointed that there was nothing to drink. The coast line looked like there wasn’t any evidence of civilization aside from the wreckage from the plane. If the island was uninhabited, then they would need to start thinking quick on finding fresh water, and a source of food.

“Drinking the sea water just makes your body crave more water, since your kidneys can’t cope with that amount of salt. You end up getting dehydrated a lot faster.” Here was his boy scout training days coming back to his mind. Having lived near the coast of Australia for much of his life, he was very familiar with the ocean, and just how deadly it can be.

The girl that Douglas had pointed out to Cris, sadly was not the one he was looking for. But still, she looked like she could use some help. “Sure thing, mate. Oh and the name’s Doug…” He offered his hand to shake, before setting off with Cris to check on the girl.

It wasn’t far to walk and they were soon upon her. “G’day.” A typical Aussie greeting said with a light smile. “Looks like we are all in the same boat. Just washed up myself.” He crouched down and looked at the girl a bit closer. “Are you hurt?”



Chris:  Isabell was slightly startled at the sound of a man’s voice, with a gasp, she’d looked up at him. “I need to find my mother.” She managed, tears still making their way freshly down her face. She glanced up and saw the other man, he one with the blond hair and glanced back at the man crouched before her. She was just scared. She didn’t know if she was hurt because she didn’t really care if she was.


Para:  Cris looked at Doug and nodded ”Its nice to meet you , well under the circumstances” he said the last part under his breath. The crash was a mystery how did they crash ? Was the pilot still alive ? Did everyone make it out ? Cristopher had so many unanswered questions to ask which will probably never be answered since no one knows that. Sighing all he wanted to do was find his little sister then he could go around helping people. Walking up to the girl he stood up in front of her and let Doug do all the talking unless he felt the need to ask questions. ”What does your mother look like ” he asked her since it was a relevant question when finding someone. Watching as the tears flowed he didnt have anything to stop them so he just stood by and looked out at the ocean. He hated to see girls cry he just didnt think that they should ever feel pain and when they cried it meant that they did most of the time.


Chris:  Isabell looked up at the man who had asked about what her mother looked like and frowned slightly to see that he wasn’t even looking at her. She knew she probably looked pathetic, covered in tears and sand, but it did bother her slightly. Again, she looked at the kneeling man and then she began to glance around again. “She looks kinda like me,” she stopped and sniffled before continuing, “but her hair is short and lighter and she’s tanner than I am. .” She frowned, knowing that her description probably didn’t help at all. If she were to be completely honest, she seriously doubted her mother was still alive, but she still hoped more than anything that she would see her wondering along the shore trying to find her daughter.

Razorbackwriter:  Hearing Cris ask the obvious question about what this girl’s mother looked like, he turned his head back to the girl and waited for an answer. Short hair, looked a bit like herself. Tanned. It wasn’t much of a description but it was better than nothing at all. The big question however was, did she survive the crash? With Cris already searching for his little sister, and now they had this poor girl who was doing the same thing. Doug offered his hand to the girl to assist her to get to her feet. She didn’t know him from before now, and he hoped that she would accept his offer to help her. “Cris here is looking for his sister.” Douglas said, with a slight nod. “If there are more survivors, than the best thing to do is keep looking up the beach, or further in. People could have washed up anywhere. Or even come down in the trees over there.” At this, he pointed towards what was the inland, which was surrounded by large palms and coconut trees, along with brush.

“Maybe we should stick together. Look as a group. You know?” He knew Cris would want to find his sister right away, but Douglas wanted to ensure that all three of them kept together. Safety in numbers.