Andrew Hall
Stories (6/0)
Love and Loss on the Campaign Trail
In times I find a need of a reminder of joy I find a brief romantic encounter, and when in need of meaning a campaign. Elections are not what people think. The candidate is the horse that runs the race, beautiful and captivating as it makes its way around the track, but I am the jockey. I work on election campaigns. I live in well-organized chaos, creating solutions quickly for problems that arise early morning or dead of night. It’s long hours, hard work, and surprisingly low pay. It leaves little time for personal affairs, and even less to think about romance. But, as they say, love will hit you when you least expect it, and I never saw her coming.
By Andrew Hall2 years ago in Fiction
The Island
Adrift again and alone in a rolling ocean, rudderless, and following the tides. The stars moved along the sky at night, and the sun crept from one horizon to the other, making sure to pause overhead and beat down unrelenting with no reprieve. Day after day, night after night, sailing onward at the ocean’s mercy. Little room to move, but enough to get up and manoeuvre around with some relative ease. Everything was wet, from clothes to food, and nothing was safe from the sea’s reach. Apart from adjusting the sail, there was no controlling the little boat’s course, and with no compass or map, there was no way to know where one was apart from the stars at night. Rest, that was it, for, with a little hope, land would eventually be made.
By Andrew Hall3 years ago in Humans
My One Regret
We laid there basking in the evening sun shining through my bedroom window, naked and fulfilled. She rolled onto my arm and rested her head on my chest. Her hair tickled my armpit, and I could feel the sweat from her brow. Her hand moved to my hold my face, arm over me, pulling me into her embrace. She tucked her knee over my leg and found its place as she fell into a comfortable position, fully immersed into each other. We laid there, hearts beating fast as we settled into a sense of peace, welcoming the moment, and ignoring the world outside that room. The breeze blew the curtains and cooled our heated bodies.
By Andrew Hall3 years ago in Confessions
The Night We Had a Merlot
It was raining gently, and I was preoccupied with my problems of work, school, and money; the usual suspects of so many of our generation. I hurried to catch the elevator in my apartment building as the doors were closing, and luckily, she was there to hold them. I was consumed with the letters in my hand and failed at first to notice her.
By Andrew Hall3 years ago in Humans