Serendipitous armamentarium


Life is like fire: it starts, it burns and it ends. It's inexplicable and amazing. It hurts and it's beautiful. It's magical and it's unique. Both a precious gift and unavoidable pain. The contradiction of warmth, and unfriendliness verging on betrayal. Incredibly useful, yet deadly.

Life starts-bum!-There it is, did you see it? There it rose reborn from the ashes, and it's flying now. Until it changes-bam!

Like a train so fast, you might not even see it. Did you catch it? Never mind, you'll catch the last one. You have a return ticket for that one.

Therefore, life in this analogy is like a fire-train. (I know it sounds weird, but do go with me on this one.) It starts off new and full of energy, all shiny and bright.

Then it goes mature, slows down a bit; stabilizes. "Grown-up train that is"-people would say proudly. Until it gets too old to move down the track. Until it gets pushed into an old-metal factory; to be hacked apart and its parts used to create something else. And new life begins.

It's a game we are all invited to play. And a game we can never win. But we can certainly have fun playing it. So use it; live and you will not be just a participant. You will become a player; and players have so much fun.


-"Read me a story."-she begged.

-"You know begging will get you nowhere."-he replied.

-"It did get me somewhere last night."-she countermanded.

-"Well…"-he tried but was cut off.

-"And this is one boat I do not want to be stuck on for 2 day doing nothing, if you know what I mean."

(He had absolutely no clue what she meant, as per usual.)

-"Indeed, I do understand. Two days is a long time, one gets bored and craves certain activities to occupy one's mind."

-"Not the area I wanted to occupy, but you did get the time bit."-she was being mild to his blatant lack of understanding of anything remotely human, as ever.

-"So what do you want to do then?"-he asked.

-"Read me a story."-she repeated. "There must be a book somewhere in your pockets…"

-"There is everything in my pockets, that's the beauty of it being bigger on the inside Clara."

-"So there is a book too?"

-"Probably."-Doctor threw his arms in the air as in disinterested somehow in the whole book thing at the moment. "Chances and probabilities of that situation being true are quite substantial in fact."-he dribbled out casually.

-"What kind of book?"-Clara ignored his slightly sarcastic reply.

-"What kind would you like it to be?"-she heard strangely deep-toned words sounding almost like a challenge.

-"Fairy-tales."


So let's begin this one shall we dear readers? Beware, this is no ordinary fairy-tale. Oh no, not ordinary at all. It begins with the sentence:

A very long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…, (as most of them do, mind you, but don't worry it gets better. I think…)

-In the forest of the dead there lived a rabbit big and strong. He lived in a house on a haunted hill that overlooked his empire of all that is dead. And all the dead plants were there, and are to remain as such until life is breathed into them by a collision of two black holes, that would create a space-time event horizon of a collapsing galaxy, of colossal pow-..."

-"Hold on Doctor, what kind of a book is that?"-Clara settled in his lap and suddenly raised her frowned little face off his chest to try and peak at the headline of the weird leader-bound, quite old and battered looking thing.

-"It's a book I grew up with Clara, but do please keep interrupting me…"

Clara mumbled a few "sorry-s" and "Do go on-s" and resumed her position on his heaving chest.

(Wait, hold on. I haven't told you where our silly humanoids were. I did mention a clue, but did you notice? Don't you just hate when the story goes on and on and you still haven't been told where it is? Although, some stories don't really need that physical location bit, do they? This one does.)

-Steve the rabbit hopped out of his little house and into the kingdom he guarded. He marveled on the rotting world that surrounded him, and whistled a happy tune while chewing on his carrot stick…-

-"You know what, I must interrupt Doctor. That is one weird rabbit, and that is one really, really strange story to read to your kids."-Clara complained again.

-"Rather a case of an unnatural conditioning of one's frail mind, that resulted in a subsequent eradication of reasonable thoughts."-Doctor explained a bit further.

-"You mean he's completely mad?"

-"Yes Clara, but one must consider the events that led to the-…"

-"Mad as a hatter."-Clara kept interrupting.

-"Well no. I actually met the bloke. Not as nearly mad as the hatter-menace. But a similarly good dancer and kisser."-Doctor trailed off, reminiscing.

-"Right, trust the Doctor to know how to make a woman jealous."

-"We just kissed Clara, nothing more."-he tried to get away with it.

-"Perhaps, but you keep forgetting I know how you kiss. So the argument does not aid you very much in this instance."-Her body gave an impression of crossness, as if her face was crosser than the rest of her small frame. Sounds familiar?

Doctor just held his gaze on her face, utterly confused but adamant to make it right; whatever the problem was with his ridiculous human-woman companion, slash-friend, slash-lover, slash-savior, slash-You know, I could make a flow-chart if it helps to follow, but I doubt it would...,slash-everything.

-"Would it help if I kissed you more often?"-He asked slowly.


The water was still. Stiller than the echo of nothing in the vast vacuum of space. Stiller than a pristine, un-carved, unmodified piece of a diamond trapped deep in the depths of a never-to-be-found rock. So still in fact, it could probably win a "standing-still-till-you-win-competition" for "still-but-not-that-still-souls", that stilled through instilling patience of stilled nerves, and hard work still. So it was still, you understand.

The boat was, however, not that still. Fine, that is a huge understatement.

(How confusing is that? Huge and under…Anyway. Let us return to the issue in hand. In hand no, wait; on hand? Under the hand, or rather inside the boat; more over and around an even number of hands. Yap, that sounds about right.)

It was unstill, the boat you see. And why? Well obviously it was occupied by a pair of humanoid creatures not being still at the time, silly. Let me elaborate.

Are you familiar with the quote:"It was like drinking beer in a canoe?" That's exactly what it was:"Fucking close to water."

Well I say fucking, but it's such a rude term. Love making -no, that's too melodramatic. How about: passionate entanglement? That's too confusing you see. And a bit dangerous to be honest. I know, it was a lucky find and/or use of available resources to achieve a certain purpose. Yes. A serendipitous armamentarium of boat space, hormone unbalance and with a wind to the back in form of no-clothes situation. No actual wind, remember? The water was still. How could you forget!? I said it like a very definite number of times. Still you forgot. Anyway, let's resume the story before you completely lose track.

-The rabbit hopped and hopped over the forest path, and took a large bite from the carrot in his hand. It chewed on it, and chewed on it and… Where was I? Oh right.

He pinned her to the ankle-deep water-filled dent of the small wooden, un-stilled boat. It was not a very comfortable position to be pinned in. As positions go, it was rather imaginative yet very challenging. Even as a choice, the position would not be a very agreeable one. Wet and rocky, and hard and, oh dear, getting lost there again.

-So the rabbit hoppity-hopped through the morning woods in search of happiness. (Probably. How should I know? I have absolutely no idea what rabbits actually do.)

The situation was a tricky one. Tricky as in- rather bizarre. Not bizarre, some other word: delicate. It was one of those serendipitous moments of souls-clashing, breaths-chilling, bodies-wrenching, knees-bending, bruise-blooming, romantic-entanglements. Too complicated? Ok, I'll make it simple.

The Doctor forced into her so hard, her screams flew through the echoing-green. His grunts resonated with each trust, while the water slowly rocked around the boat; moving away and fading until it stilled once more.

-And the rabbit finished his lunch.-

-The End-