A friend of mine received a book for Christmas called ‘642 things to write about.’

“Are you up for the challenge, everyday in January?” said friend.

“You’re throwing down the gauntlet? To me? ”

Energy promotes energy; motivation promotes motivation; writing promotes writing…write..right? I’m hoping that follows the same pattern, as hell, do I have a lot to get through this month.

So, despite being loaded with New Years Day dinner and wine, courtesy of my loving friends and rather fancying a bit of a snooze before Sherlock arrives on TV tonight (I’ve been waiting 2 years for this) I am about to embark on today’s challenge. Some of which (including this evenings effort) I will use for blogging purposes.

Today’s subject title: What can happen in a second.

Naturally, I drifted to the dark side and then thought of a hundred things that could happen in a second. Maybe I could just list all of those but then…that would be too easy. I wanted something warm and light and moving. So here is my version of what can happen in a second.

 
In just that second when your eyes lock together and not a word needs to be spoken. Despite before that juncture, words were the pathway to that point: the clever remarks, the testing innuendos and the tom foolery of bravado. The dance that steps backwards and forwards until you find the rhythm of the beat being played; when you stop treading on each others toes and fumble your way into a united waltz. It’s all so new and shiny and glazed with honey coated possibility. Before that second anything could happen. But when that one look is shared and you feel the knot tighten in the centre of the rope that swings between you like a tug of war between the mightiest of ogres; that second holds a power that disables not only the self but the rest of the world standing behind. Everything else in that second is just background noise. If the room was on fire you wouldn’t care because it would not, nor could not match the flame inside you that tickles and tortures with every building lick. Wild and primitive, your senses are intensified to every nuance. Every prickle of anticipation, every twitch of hardened, begging muscles, the scent of laboured, bated breath bringing you closer and closer because there is no stopping, there is no doubt, there is only rocket fuelled passion. And only in that second when one soft, searching mouth connects with another does the torment release into the glorious explosion of a first kiss.