chapel oak

if you’re ever sad just remember you lived at the same time that Lin-Manuel Miranda rose to fame as principle cinnamon roll of america™

This is the Chêne-Chapelle (Chapel Oak) of Allouville-Bellefosse in northern France. It is between 800 and 1,200 years old, and in the 17th century the local curé built a chapel inside it, believing that the lightning that struck the tree and hollowed it out was an event with a divine purpose. It has an altar for saying mass and a “hermit’s room” on the floor above! Photo by Thomas Pakenham, from Remarkable Trees of the World.

I’m Not Going Anywhere

So I wrote a thing because of feels, and because I am STILL awake..jet lag is kicking my butt. Anyway, I hope you all like.. please let me know if its rubbish, or how I can improve etc. 

I’m Not Going Anywhere

“People in here are waiting”

Patsy gave Delia that signature lopsided smile as she felt her heart burst with happiness, and slight alarm at the abrupt interruption. They could have so easily been caught, but she was there, her Delia was standing just inches from her.

She had pictured Delia every day since the accident, catching glimpses of her in the park, down the cobbled streets. She dreamt every night of seeing her again, that the accident had never happened at all, and of that awful day itself. The nightmares were the worst, watching the accident as if from above, unable to move, or replaying Delia’s face as she recoiled from Patsy’s touch, scared and pale in the hospital bed. Vivid and emotive she often awoke in a sweat, her heart pounding against her chest like a caged animal. 

On those nights, moving as quietly as she could so as not to wake Trixie, she would take out her favourite photograph of Delia, curled and crumpled from being handled so often, stained from the tears that fell no matter how hard she had tried to stop them. Patsy would creep from her bed and down to the dusky chapel, oak floors mottled with the blues and reds of the stained glass windows. She would sit on the window ledge and gaze out over the darkened alleyway illuminated only by the flicker of the streetlamps and would try to picture happier times; Delia beaming as she chatted about painting their living room yellow, or the time they had to invent an excuse for being in the bathroom together when one of the other trainees had heard the shrieks of their impromptu water fight. She would sit for hours until her limbs became stiff with cold, or more often than not, she was shaken awake by Trixie, who had gone searching for her missing roommate and had found Patsy asleep against the window clutching the picture of Delia to her chest. Although she must have suspected, Trixie never questioned but just helped her friend back to her bed, or straight in for a hot bath if it was nearly time for her shift.

Giving Delia’s hand a quick squeeze Patsy whispered “Come on, let me walk you to your bus stop”. Heading out of the phone box they nodded to the gentleman and apologised before swiftly making their way down towards the railway bridge, but not so quickly so as to arouse suspicion.

As they neared the bridge Delia pulled Patsy to a stop.

“What, what is it? Did you forget something in the phone box? I don’t think we can rightly go back; the gentleman will get frightfully cross if we interrupt him.” Delia grinned at her, she quickly glanced around before grabbing Patsy’s coat collar and pulling her into a close embrace.

“Yes, I did forget something” she whispered before giving Patsy a soft, fleeting kiss. Patsy sighed and smiled as Delia pulled away, turning her head down towards the floor. Despite the darkness Delia knew that Patsy was blushing. It was one of her favourite things about the tall red head. Every time they had kissed, of which there were only a handful, Patsy would flush such a colour that her cheeks nearly matched her perfectly styled hair. It was endearing and Delia felt so privileged that she, and only she could get such a beautiful reaction from the ever composed Nurse Mount.

Patsy relished the sensation of Delia’s kiss. The soft subtleness of her lips, and how she could feel Delia smiling against her.  As the kiss came to an end she stared down at her shoes, cheeks aflame. How did she always feel like an overly excited teenager whenever Delia kissed her? However, this time there was also something different in the way Patsy felt. Like a lovesick school girl, yes, but she also felt – she couldn’t put her finger on it. Emboldened maybe? Whatever it was, Patsy suddenly snapped her head up and, taking Delia’s hand she tugged them both into the small obscured pathway behind them. Pinning Delia to the brick wall she breathlessly stared down at her, chest heaving, cupping Delia’s cheek in her hand. Leaning down she desperately reconnected their lips and kissed Delia with all she could muster. She poured all of the agony of the past few months into the kiss, all of the want and desperation to see her again. All of the love that she had kept stored up under lock and key.

Delia took a moment to respond. Patsy had never initiated such a physical show of her affection before. Feeling Patsy run her tongue across her lips, Delia moaned, granting her entry and kissed her back, the joy of having her love in her arms once more overwhelming. Only when she felt a wetness on her cheek did Delia pull away once more.

“Darling Pats, whatever is the matter?” Delia brought both hands up to Patsy’s face, tear tracks streaking across her cheeks like little streams across a field. “Oh my darling” she said wiping the fresh tears away.

“P..Please don’t leave again. I…I can’t… just please…” Patsy choked out, eyes swimming with sadness. Powder blue met emerald as Delia looked Patsy in the eye “I will never” she breathed out softly. “I love you, Patience Mount, always have, always will” and, kissing her with every word, she said resolutely “I’m not going anywhere Pats”.