An address scrawled on the back of a bill, the handwriting burning brightly. His handwriting. She took in the tangled maze of ivy, choking the walls, cloaking the house beyond.

No name, no number, just an old house. Forgotten. Unseen and disbelieved until he had taken the pen from his pocket and scribbled its importance on the envelope she had held in her hand.

The trees cushioned her against the cacophony of crushing cars. She closed her eyes and listened. She allowed herself to be lulled into submission by the blowing breeze, the birds calling in the trees.

A camera shutter snapped through the silence. Unafraid of the familiar, she opened her eyes slowly to see him standing out from the shrubbery. He shrugged, smiling in apology.

She need not need admonish him, or acknowledge him. He knew her. She watched as he walked steadily towards her. He came close, and her body did not falter. It did not brace or bark to run.

He straightened himself against her. So close she could feel the warmth of his body rising against hers. She watched as he pressed his nose against hers and, she closed her eyes, as he gently kissed her lips.


During the Covid outbreak my writing teacher has challenged us to write a piece based on three specific words. This piece is based on the words: address, listen and shutter.

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