River Water

And she danced in the river water. Her dress up over her head and lying crumpled on the loamy grass like a dead leaf, me, still too self-conscious to join her in her gay nakedness. I had stripped myself of shoes and socks and jeans before following her in but I just couldn't find the resolve to free myself of my button-down t-shirt buttoned all the way up and rolled up at the sleeves. The cloud of hash that we created while sitting on the banks of the river before wading in had not yet worked on my limbs well enough to get me to join her in her revelry.

Noticing this she poked at my stomach playfully, pulled at the buttons of my shirt suggestively, 'Come on,' she lilted, almost pleaded, 'come and dance with me.' But I didn't. I resisted the curve of her smile and the ply of her voice and stood my ground as best the sandy river carpet and light current would allow me to. After another moment of futile plucking she left me alone. If she was disappointed by the woodenness of my response to her joviality she did well not to let on. Instead, she took a step back and began to twirl, her head thrown back, her arms outstretched, her fingers grazing the surface of the river sending up a jolting spray of water. I watched her through a telescope and envied her abandon.

Sighing, I turned my gaze to the sky. The moon hung big and bright, round and low. Mesmerizing. Hypnotizing. Like a single pearl set in the center of a diamond encrusted broach. I wanted it. I wanted to pince it between index and thumb, pluck it from its perch and take it home with me. Maybe I would make a necklace out of it. Maybe a ring. Maybe a pair of earrings. Although for that I would have to hitch hike my way to Jupiter or some other planet with a lot of moons and carefully select one of similar size for the second earring. That would make a great gift. I'm pretty sure she would like that. Or maybe I would just walk around with it in the small pocket inside a pocket that most jeans have on the right side.

As these thoughts, fleeting as they were, flitted through my mind so did another: I think the hash is working. This thought though I held on to and let the others fade into nothing.

I lowered my eyes and found her staring at me. The light from the moon made her eyes luminous orbs . Her arms hung relaxed at her side. She made no attempt to cover her nakedness. There was not an ounce of discomfort in the tilt of her head, the set of her shoulders, the heave of her chest or the poke of her hip. She was beautiful in her confidence in her body.

Slowly and without a word she tread water and was soon in front of me. She unbuttoned my shirt and I let her. She pulled it off my body and I let her. She let it fall into the river and I was silent.

I stood before her, skinny arms and protruding belly. No longer self-conscious. No longer trying to hide. I was finally free to get lost in the spell of the river. Slowly leaning in she whispered something in my ear. Electricity. Her body touched mine.

And we danced in the river water.

Inspired by the song "River Water" by Moon Taxi.

Click "I Do" to Continue

Jason & Melissa went back and forth about it quite a number of times before finally deciding to get married on a Tuesday. Jason in front of his computer and Melissa in front of hers, just the way they wanted it. It was out of necessity rather than consensus, however, that the ceremony would take place during Jason's lunch hour seeing as it was impossible for him to get any time off of work. Then why not on a Saturday? You might be wondering. Like normal people?  And even if you're not, it's really quite simple; the husband-and-wife-to-be first met on a Tuesday. The way a lot of couples meet these days, on Facebook.

It was the half an hour before lunch time and Jason was sitting at his desk clicking away at his computer shopping for girls with alluring profile pictures when he saw her. Jason is a huge fan of the Duckface and so when he saw Melissa's he was instantly intrigued. There is just something about the way a woman pushes her lips together in the combination of a pucker and a pout to make herself look like a duck that he finds irresistibly attractive. A click later and he was at her profile.

Melissa was currently unemployed, had studied Procurement at Makerere University Kampala, went to Taibah Highschool, lived in Kampala and was from Mbarara, Uganda. She had 867 photos, 1,144 friends and her most recent post was a a photo of celebrity couple Kat Kebab & Kobe South (or KatBe to the initiated) with their daughter Compass on the cover of Elan Magazine with the caption: May the Duke & Duchess of South Kebab reign forever and ever more. Amen! 

A few leggy and busty photographs later and Jason was irrepressibly, irretrievably and irreversibly in love. He sent her a friend request immediately. Twenty minutes later and he was handed the Friend Request Accepted notification that he had been frenetically switching between Youtube, Twitter & Facebook tabs waiting for.

He knew there was something special about her from the first reply she sent to his, "Hi, my name is Jason & after checking out your profile I thought you and I could be good friends." message.

"You're not a bot are you?" was her reply. "You're not going to give me your Yahoo! email address and tell me to get in touch with you there because you're hardly on Facebook, are you? Because everybody knows that everybody uses Facebook, everyday, all the time."

That was the moment that Jason decided he was going to marry her.

It is now twelve weeks since Jason and Melissa first met. Jason's stomach is a constant whir of lap top fans and click-clacking keyboards. His suit is hanging in his closet in its carry bag ready to go.

After a bowel movement of prodigious proportions Jason runs a razor across his face, pours some water on his body and is on his way.

The morning is a busy but distracted one. Jason completes all of the work assigned to him but knows that he will probably have to go back and do it all over again.

soon it is ten minutes to lunch time. Grabbing his suit Jason goes to the bathroom and reappears several minutes later fully suited up. Walking over to a colleague desk Jason holds out his phone.

"Yo, help me and take a picture of me in front of that wall over there."

Jason's colleague Fred looks him over.

"What for?"

Jason shrugs.

"Photoshop."

Fred's face folds into disbelief.

"But you guy, another one? What happened to the last one?"

Another shrug.

"She was just too much."

Fred begins to chuckle to himself. "I've haha'd you."

"Leave me alone and just take the picture, alright?"

And so still chuckling to himself Fred does.

Taking back his phone from Fred without thanking him Jason heads back to his desk. It sucks that Melissa failed to get a wedding dress but she did promise that she would definitely figure something out. With a little work their wedding photo would be perfect.

Once again in front of his computer Jason goes to Virtual-I-Do.com. It's one of those online marriage sites where a person can marry a cat if they are so inclined. Not that Jason would ever tell Melissa this. She told him she wanted a life full of magic and so it is magic that Jason is going to give her.

After choosing the type of wedding he wants, 'Person to Person' as opposed to 'Person to Other' or 'Other to Other' Jason is sent to the 'Start Your Proposal' page where he puts in their details and writes a one lined proposal that goes like, "Come on, let's do this."

"Check your email." he tells Melissa in their omnipresent Facebook chat box.

"OK."

A few minutes pass.

"Done. Your turn."

Jason clicks on the link provided in his inbox and is brought to a page where he is asked to click "I DO" to continue and so he does.

Him and Melissa are promptly issued a digital marriage certificate that can be printed and framed if they really feel like it. Melissa might but Jason definitely won't, the side effects of being a repeat customer.

The marriage is by no means legally binding but then who needs legally binding when you have a love birthed from a pool of ones and zeroes and flirty messages?

Jason reopens Facebook chat.

"You seen it?"

"Yup. It's beautiful. We're married baby! :-0"

"Yes we are..." then after a slight pause, "Honey. Still celebrating tonight right?"

"Of course! What time should I come over?"

"Like seven. You still have the directions I gave you?"

"Yup."

"So later then?"

"You cant stay at chat some?"

"Got to get back to work."

"OK hubby. I'll talk you later then. I love you XOXO"

"XOXO"

Logging off Jason gets up to go and change. Gosh he hopes her photos didn't lie.

Some Of the Things I Believe

I believe that we are a cynical generation. Full of snide comments, side glances and quiet scoffs at anything that even suggests the optimistic. Dreams don't come true. Mountains stay right where they are, I don't care who you are. True love is for saps and women who watch romantic comedies and God is for weaklings.

It's a hostile world for a wide eyed hopelessly romantic Jesus loving fool such as myself. I believe that dreams DO come true. I believe that mountains DO move. I believe that the woman I'm in love with is a good woman and that she is the love of my life. I believe Jesus is the Son of God. And yes, that there is a God to begin with.

I don't believe that homosexuality is a valid sexual orientation. I don't believe 'sexual orientation' deserves any sort of validity at all seeing as it suggests that there is more than one box to tick, which I don't believe there is.

I believe that I am far from perfect. I believe that I am in no position to judge anyone. But I do believe that I am in a position to love and to be willing to listen and to try my best to understand.

I believe a very many things. And don't probably an equal number.

Ask me why I believe the things that I believe and why I don't the things I don't and for many of those things I would not have an answer for you. And for the answers that I did have, they would probably disappoint you. And from that you might wonder to yourself why I would want to lay a bed of what may seem willful ignorance and sleep in it the sleep of the dead.

What I can say is that I believe what I believe. Even when confronted with what seems the more logical, the more pragmatic, the more sensible- your uncle is a failure, this is Uganda, how many marriages actually last, what has this so called God of yours done for you that you can actually hold up and show me and prove beyond a reasonable doubt?

Huh? What was that? Yeah, that's what I thought.

I believe that we are a cynical generation. Full of snide comments, side glances and quiet scoffs at anything that even suggests the optimistic. Dreams don't come true. Mountains stay right where they are, I don't care who you are. True love is for saps and women who watch romantic comedies and God is for weaklings.

I would like to believe, however, that this is not as true as it seems.