• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

Gisela's Stories

Go to CruxDreams.com
pkindenhaag said:
Thirty minutes later and they were all on their way, Mario wiping his shower-damp hair and trying wipe a little window on the misted screen as he struggled with the steering wheel. Silke chatted animatedly in the rear with Gisela, passing the find between them, the fourth archaeologist, her boyfriend, sleeping soundly in the front passenger seat. Soon they were back outside the apartment and Gisela jumped down, dashing through the rain towards the doorway buried in its grey stone recess. A quick wave and a hoot and the van disappeared in a mist of spray. She drew a deep breath and turned the key.

The answerphone blinked in the hallway; one message, from Matthias. He would be free the next evening if she was. Could she call him back or text him? A deep, hot bath run; a glass of cold white wine poured; the find placed carefully in its plastic wrapper on the table beside her sofa; her bag with her notes and camera next to it. Relaxing deep into the scented foam, letting her hair drift above her as she blew a stream of soft bubbles towards the surface.

Outside the rain had stopped; the summer sky faded from pale blue to pink streaked dusk; Gisela pulled the blinds down, hiding the tear-dripping blooms in the window baskets from view and settled quietly onto her bed, gazing at the ceiling. Beside her a book, the novel she was reading. Murakami. Maybe a chapter before she let sleep slide over her tired limbs. Beside the book, the find; the chain. She tilted her head, the book falling open on her breast, looking at the ancient links and iron loops. Her hand extended and raising it, dangled the object over her face, letting the large link stroke her cheek. Then, slowly, thoughtfully, placing the open ends over her left wrist, closing them together, feeling the cold metal against the warmth of her skin. Once again she raised the chain, opening her hand, turning it as if to inspect the fit. The fit was perfect. Her free hand reached for the light switch, sending the room into darkness; her legs drawn up beneath her breasts, her breathing slowing to a soft murmur.
Click to expand...

Mmmmm....the stage is set....here we go....:p
 
pkindenhaag said:
looking at the ancient links and iron loops. Her hand extended and raising it, dangled the object over her face, letting the large link stroke her cheek. Then, slowly, thoughtfully, placing the open ends over her left wrist, closing them together, feeling the cold metal against the warmth of her skin. Once again she raised the chain, opening her hand, turning it as if to inspect the fit. The fit was perfect. Her free hand reached for the light switch, sending the room into darkness; her legs drawn up beneath her breasts, her breathing slowing to a soft murmur.
Click to expand...
Pp loves this descriptive writing. It wraps around him and draws him into her room. She may turn off the light but Pp can still see her in his mind.
 
Chapter 4​


“So yes, I can if that works for you?”

“’Course Gisella, anytime, really. Let’s say eight then? Gives me time to finish up at work. We’ve a project on right now and I…”

“The good little intern has to work for his mistress, yes?”

“Something like that. Yeah. OK then, eight at that bar in Fischmarkt, you know, Si Ju. If it’s nice we can sit outside. I’ll see you there, yes? Eight.”

“OK, til eight then”

Gisela placed her mobile on the bedside table and stretched out, her eyes focusing on her left wrist, at the ancient iron loop still closed around it. She cupped her hand over her breast, turning the chain this way and that with her fingers. It had left just the slightest indentation in her pale flesh where the weight of her body had pressed down during the night. She shuddered, then smiled, gently easing the closure apart, then removing it and holding it to the morning light, observing how the metal turned from black to grey to brown to blue; how its surface at once smooth now appeared tired and worn, pitted and bruised. Her arm seemed so free without its slight weight, yet somehow she felt an unbearable sense of loss.

The day passed as any other at the dig. Mario went on and on during the breaks about the faculty and the importance of their finds and the way they were changing history. The other two slumped back in their chairs weary from their labours, kicking the clinging mud from their boots. Another day, another layer of Thuringian earth scraped back. Pale colour changes pointing the lines of trenches and post-holes. Nothing much new; just slow, steady progress. Every step documented and carefully mapped on the chart.

Evening, and the sun striking the towers and spires of the Mariensdom, casting long shadows over the platz below. Gisela rattled over the cobbles on her bicycle, her hair flying loose behind her, a tinkling bell warning lost tourists as she passed. Along Marktstraße, avoiding the tram-lines, savouring the warmth on her bare arms, the freedom of her body as she weaved along towards the Rathaus square, then flinging her leg over, balancing on one pedal as she drew to a halt, kicking the stand down and fastening the rear wheel with the bundle of keys and discount cards and that old woolly bear that hung from the lock between the spokes. She glanced around and saw Matthias waving and with a smile skipped across to greet him with a kiss.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
pkindenhaag said:
Gisela placed her mobile on the bedside table and stretched out, her eyes focusing on her left wrist, at the ancient iron loop still closed around it. She cupped her hand over her breast, turning the chain this way and that with her fingers. It had left just the slightest indentation in her pale flesh where the weight of her body had pressed down during the night. She shuddered, then smiled, gently easing the closure apart, then removing it and holding it to the morning light, observing how the metal turned from black to grey to brown to blue; how its surface at once smooth now appeared tired and worn, pitted and bruised. Her arm seemed so free without its slight weight, yet somehow she felt an unbearable sense of loss.
Click to expand...
Pp really does love your writing Pkin. It has the descriptiveness that takes him there.
 
He smiled as he poured the chilled rosé wine into her glass, replacing the bottle in the ice-bucket, then stretching out in his chair, enjoying the calm and warmth of the summer air, wrapped in the chatter from the neighbouring tables.

“So, another busy day in the country Gisela?”

“You’re laughing at me Matthias! Don’t! It’s serious, the work I do, I’ve already explained that to you. And yes, it was busy and tiring and yes, it’s lovely to be here relaxing. I like it here.”

He leaned over, kissing her lightly on the cheek

“I like it too, and I like you too, very much. Sorry, I know it’s complicated stuff, I... well, I just probably... I’m just not as into the past as you are. I sort of prefer the here and now. But go on, tell me what you’ve discovered this week so far? Go on, tell me. You’ll have to teach me, if we’re going to be spending more time together.”

“So are we then Matthias? I... I think I’d like to if you would. Do you think you would?”

“Well, I think we should give it a go, don’t you?”

He smiled and kissed her again, holding her face in his fingertips, drawing her lips to his, briefly, softly.

She awoke to the buzzing of her alarm, conscious of a warm body lying beside her in the turmoil of sheets, the evening and the night before slowly coming back into focus in the blur of her early morning memory.

“Matthias, come on, wake up! It’s time to wake up! I’ve got to go soon. Come on!”

He groaned as he reluctantly turned over, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight streaming in through the open window.

“Come on, I’ve got to shower, then I’ll make some coffee. Get up Matthias, come on!”

“Let’s stay in bed Gisela... it’s so cosy here with you. I’ll phone in sick or something. Let’ s just...”

“No Matthias! I’ve work to do, we can meet up tonight again if you want, alright? I’ll cook something or we can get a take-away or something, alright?”

“I’d really like just to stay with you all day... that would be so nice.... couldn’t...”

“No! Come on, here’s your things! Time to get moving lazy boy!”
 
Late afternoon, sun streaming over the Hachelbich meadows, a tractor somewhere in the distance groaning its way across a field of golden swaying rape, the flutter of birds floating across the trees beside the excavation. Mario leapt down, walking along the taped-off line to where Silke was working carefully on the third posthole, teasing the darker soil from the light surrounding clay, exposing the still-sharply defined edges.

“Well, that’s interesting isn’t it?”

She looked up, wiping her trowel on her t-shirt, and the fourth archeologist stood too, coming over to see what the fuss was about.

“Yeah, I just don’t know what they could be. I thought at first a building of some sort, but I don’t think that’s possible. I mean, we’ve done some measurements and if it was, then there should be more, either that side or this. But there aren’t. Just the three holes. What do you think Mario? Is it some sort of shelter, a lean-to maybe?”

“Hmm.... Could be, but I don’t think so. They’re just a bit too far apart aren’t they? I think they must have stood alone, but let’s do a bit more work, we might find some other indications. Look, let’s just broaden the trench around one of them, carefully. Open it up a bit and see if there’s anything else.”

“What are you thinking of Mario?”

“I’m not really sure Silke. I’ve a hunch, but I’m not sure. It may be nothing. But give it a go. Not too broad, maybe a metre around the posthole, ok? Look, Hans, maybe you can help here too. The clay’s quite heavy. Give her a hand and we’ll see. I’m off to see what Gisela’s up to, alright? Let’s give it another hour then we’ll call it a day. Call me if you find anything right?”

He gunned the four-wheel drive into life and headed down the rutted track, dappled now with shade, towards the second tent where Gisela was working.

“Anything?”

“Not really. A couple more links of chain. I think from the same thing.”

“The wrist iron, yes, looks like it. Hmmm.... I wonder..... It’s a bit odd, don’t you think. That virtually the only thing we’ve found that suggests anyone being here other than a bunch of Roman soldiers is this chain...”

A dark cloud momentarily ensnaring the sun, the humid air anticipating the possibility of distant thunder; Mario’s phone rang, he switched it to speaker; Silke’s voice crackling with excitement:

“We’ve found something, a nail I think”

“Well it can join the pile then, a boot nail, like the others Silke?”

“No, no not at all like that, It’s long, like a spike, and square... and there’s something else too. Something much more special... A bone fragment. We....we think it’s human. We think there’s more too...”
 
Last edited by a moderator:
pkindenhaag said:
“No, no not at all like that, It’s long, like a spike, and square... and there’s something else too. Something much more special... A bone fragment. We....we think it’s human. We think there’s more too...”
Click to expand...
The ancient iron loop that so often marks her flesh has always intrigued Pp. Now there is a nail. And bone.
 
pkindenhaag said:
Late afternoon, sun streaming over the Hachelbich meadows, a tractor somewhere in the distance groaning its way across a field of golden swaying rape, the flutter of birds floating across the trees beside the excavation. Mario leapt down, walking along the taped-off line to where Silke was working carefully on the third posthole, teasing the darker soil from the light surrounding clay, exposing the still-sharply defined edges.

“Well, that’s interesting isn’t it?”

She looked up, wiping her trowel on her t-shirt, and the fourth archeologist stood too, coming over to see what the fuss was about.

“Yeah, I just don’t know what they could be. I thought at first a building of some sort, but I don’t think that’s possible. I mean, we’ve done some measurements and if it was, then there should be more, either that side or this. But there aren’t. Just the three holes. What do you think Mario? Is it some sort of shelter, a lean-to maybe?”

“Hmm.... Could be, but I don’t think so. They’re just a bit too far apart aren’t they? I think they must have stood alone, but let’s do a bit more work, we might find some other indications. Look, let’s just broaden the trench around one of them, carefully. Open it up a bit and see if there’s anything else.”

“What are you thinking of Mario?”

“I’m not really sure Silke. I’ve a hunch, but I’m not sure. It may be nothing. But give it a go. Not too broad, maybe a metre around the posthole, ok? Look, Hans, maybe you can help here too. The clay’s quite heavy. Give her a hand and we’ll see. I’m off to see what Gisela’s up to, alright? Let’s give it another hour then we’ll call it a day. Call me if you find anything right?”

He gunned the four-wheel drive into life and headed down the rutted track, dappled now with shade, towards the second tent where Gisela was working.

“Anything?”

“Not really. A couple more links of chain. I think from the same thing.”

“The wrist iron, yes, looks like it. Hmmm.... I wonder..... It’s a bit odd, don’t you think. That virtually the only thing we’ve found that suggests anyone being here other than a bunch of Roman soldiers is this chain...”

A dark cloud momentarily ensnaring the sun, the humid air anticipating the possibility of distant thunder; Mario’s phone rang, he switched it to speaker; Sylvie’s voice crackling with excitement:

“We’ve found something, a nail I think”

“Well it can join the pile then, a boot nail, like the others Sylvie?”

“No, no not at all like that, It’s long, like a spike, and square... and there’s something else too. Something much more special... A bone fragment. We....we think it’s human. We think there’s more too...”
Click to expand...
Ooops - Silke, not Sylvie of course.... I think Sylvie crept in from another, older story!!!!
 

Chapter 5​


“Matthias, can you chop the onion please, and the pepper… and I need two teaspoons of garlic as well, ok?”

“Sure, I guess I’m the kitchen slave tonight then… so, what’s it going to be Gisela?”

“Well, it’s a sort of paella. It’s supposed to be chicken and Chorizo, but I like to add a few prawns and some mussels and, well, I sort of do it by feel I guess… It’ll be yummy, honest! Now, when you’ve done those can you chop up the tomatoes, sort of into quarters? Good. And do pour a glass of wine… one for me too please!”

“Here you go. I guess this is a good way to relax after a hard day at work, yes?”
 
....ok, so that was a bit naughty... just a little tease, but it will all work out, honest... And I do love cooking, and it's been a long day, so I'm off for a well-deserved sleep, and we'll get back to the kitchen chat tomorrow, alright?
 
pkindenhaag said:
....ok, so that was a bit naughty... just a little tease, but it will all work out, honest... And I do love cooking, and it's been a long day, so I'm off for a well-deserved sleep, and we'll get back to the kitchen chat tomorrow, alright?
Click to expand...

Someone has said that ... many times before, I wonder who it could have been?????? :p

Wonderful story, PK! :)
 
pkindenhaag said:
....ok, so that was a bit naughty... just a little tease, but it will all work out, honest... And I do love cooking, and it's been a long day, so I'm off for a well-deserved sleep, and we'll get back to the kitchen chat tomorrow, alright?
Click to expand...
Cooking can be a real pleasure... You'll have to have some of Tree's homemade spaghetti before you carry your cross up the Hill of 100 Crosses...

Tree
 
“For me it is. Do you like cooking Matthias?”

“Hmmm… I guess not really. I sort of eat out a lot I suppose, or…”

“Or heat something in the micro-wave? Yeah, I know. Anyway, Here we go, in with the chorizo and onions and peppers!.... There, smells good doesn’t it? Ooops, and the garlic! How are you getting on with your chopping?”

“Hey, come on! I can chop tomatoes you know! Right, a top-up?”

“Mmmm…. Thanks. Can you just give that stock a stir? That’s it. So… so how was your day then Herr architect?”

“Good thanks. Actually my boss has given me a really cool project, so very good really…She really is your doppelganger…”

“Doppelganger? Come on, how old is she? I’m not sure you’ve found a compliment there”!

With a mocking smile she pulled him towards her, rocking him gently by his shoulders, then tapped him quickly on the head with a wooden spoon.

“Donkey! You need to be sweet to me unless you want a dose of extra chilli pepper! Come on, give me a kiss! Come on! Let’s loosen that tie of yours…. Come on…”

The spoon bounced, ignored, over the tiled floor, the pan bubbling gently on the steady orange flame as they leaned back over the marbled top, his fingers fumbling with Gisela’s blouse, lips slipping and tongues sliding across teeth, teeth biting at lips, as her hands ran through his darkly-shining hair.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
pkindenhaag said:
The spoon bounced, ignored, over the tiled floor, the pan bubbling gently on the steady orange flame as they leaned back over the marbled top, his fingers fumbling with Gisela’s blouse, lips slipping and tongues sliding across teeth, teeth biting at lips, as her hands ran through his darkly-shining hair.
Click to expand...
If is isn't Eul then it is Pkin....why does Pp always seem to be reading words like this just as he tries to sip a morning coffee?
 
“So, good isn’t it?”

“It’s fantastic Gisela, really really good. How’s the wine?”

“Nice. I think I may just have another glass. How about you?”

“Thanks. Anyway, I’ve told you about my stuff. How was your day in Hichelbach?”

“Hachelbich. Not Hichelbach, wherever that is. Good, actually. Very interesting indeed. Quite a fascinating day, for an archeolgist that is. Look, I’ll just get something to show you. Back in a minute.”

Gisela slipped from the table into her bedroom, the chain lay on her pillow, somehow waiting for her.

“I should have taken this into the office the other day… but…well, I will soon. Look at it. What do you think?”

Matthais fingered the ancient metal, turning it in his hand, letting the flickering candle-light refract from its tempered surface.

“It’s a chain, yes? A bracelet or something?”

“It’s a chain. A manacle you might say. For holding someone. A slave or a prisoner. And look…”

She took it from him and slipped it over her wrist.

“Look, it fits me perfectly. It’s a chain for a girl. See? A German girl from two thousand years ago almost. So don’t you think it’s amazing? That a girl, maybe someone like me, was locked in this all that time ago? It’s history Matthais. Doesn’t it sort of come to life for you?”

She raised her hand, turning it this way and that, the slender metal band and its links hanging from her wrist.

“Come on, touch it and imagine me, all that time ago, a frightened girl in a Roman camp. Imagine. I can’t understand them, I don’t speak their language, well, maybe just a few words that I’ve picked up in my village. Imagine how I got there, who I was. Imagine what became of me. Can you? That’s what we try to do. We try to imagine the past from things like this. Tiny little fragments of history that all have a story to tell. What do you think?”



(sorry it's taking me so long.... I've been off doing sporty things!)
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom