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Reply
 Message 1 of 8 in Discussion 
From: MSN Nicknameswitchgears1_  (Original Message)Sent: 11/14/2006 1:42 AM
 
(This is a first Draft)
 
Who Are We Kidding?
 
Would tonight be different? The old man sat at his computer and grinned as he fumbled for the on switch. What could he tell her this evening that he had not already told her? Why had  such a beauty selected him. The tone of their messages which had begun on message boards, then progressed to chatrooms had now changed from, funny, ‘sending up’words, to  more ‘loving�?ones; even intimate at times, depending on how much either of them had been drinking when they were on line. Her photograph sent to him via msn messenger, showed her young, natural beauty. The delightful sight of her at her best, displaying her strawberry blonde hair, her curvaceous figure draped over a sun lounger by the house pool, both created a current of excitement to ripple through his old flesh and muscle. He chuckled to himself then paused briefly as his mind drifted back nearly three decades when he was at his peak; a time of plenty in women, money and most of all company.
He recalled some of the romantic adventures he’d had, along with the hearts he’d broken with few regrets. So how had he ended up here, a lonely old man punching away at a keyboard trying to present an image of himself as a younger man?
The stroke had devastated him at first, then little by little he recovered each lost ability, up to the point where he now was, almost back to normal apart from some short term memory loss. The  visiting therapist told him he needed a hobby. “You spend too much time on your own!�?he declared. “Get yourself a laptop and join the world wide web to make  new friends in  places away from here. You get few visitors here and none when you were in hospital? Do you have any family?�?BR>“I have a son who works in the city�?he replied, adding “But he’s always very busy and doesn’t get much free time.�?nbsp;
“That’s a shame, I think you need other people. You’re becoming socially isolated. Would you like me to see about getting a computer for you? We have special borrowing access for senior citizens to help them learn today’s technology. It won’t cost you anything! It’s funded by Age Concern!�?BR>The old man agreed, and  later, after being shown the basics of his laptop,  he was soon on line and learning fast about all of its many uses. It was on one of these occasions, whilst surfing the web alone, he entered a room which advertised itself as one where you could make new friends easily.
Alicia, or ‘Sin-sister�?was already a member of the group and had so been for several months and her humour and easygoing ways had made her a popular person with whom to chat or post messages in the room. David, or ‘Boy Blue�?as he was known by his pseudonym was an obvious target for her as she began to engage him in regular conversations, ranging from the weather to politics and believe it or not, even feminism. Often they would laugh together at postings from people which they didn’t really understand or even ‘get the gist of�?  They found they had a lot of common interests but were especially dumfounded to discover that they both lived within 30 miles of each other.  On line etiquette and  normal worries had at first disbarred either of them from disclosing where they lived, but after a few months of long evening conversations which by now had moved from the MSN group room to the privacy of MSN Messenger, they realised that they both lived on different sides of London.
Alicia nagged David for his photograph and he stalled her for as long as he could, surmising that once she saw his elderly features, that she would lose interest in him and even though he realised that physical contact with her at any level was hardly likely to happen, what he felt for her now was more than just affection.
After recent health ordeals, he needed someone to love and to be loved by, even if it was only in a non physical way. But now the time had arrived to do something before he lost her.   The answer bowled him over with its simplicity. He would send her a photograph of his son who was in his mid thirties, unmarried and quite handsome. She needn’t ever know, and neither would his son, also called David. He was sure he’d get away with the pretence and after all, what harm was he doing?
The conversations went on daily for a long period of time, their wording becoming more and more like that of lovers than simply friends. The old man often wondered why Alicia didn’t make any effort for them both to meet and she thought the same about him, never supposing for one minute that it was physical appearance in reality which was the major stopping block.
Then one day, fate intervened. The old man continually  neglected his medication during the long hours of typing away into the night, using just one finger to form the words which he most wanted to convey. His loud shout and gasp before he slid into a coma was heard by one of the twilight shift at the nursing home and an ambulance was called to take him to hospital. His son was routinely called and highly agitated and upset he arrived at Queen Charlotte’s Hospital to be with his father.
The on call consultant told David that they were doing all they could, but they didn’t really expect his father to survive this time, so he should prepare himself for the worst case scenario.
“After all, he’s a very old man and this is not the first time for him is it?�?he asked. David shook his head and tried to stop the tears forming in his eyes. “He’s been so happy these last months too!�?his son said....”I don’t know...............
The doctor said, “There is one thing, your dad had a piece of paper with him which you might want!�?nbsp;
David scanned it, noting the ‘Sin-sister�?nbsp; = Alicia and the ‘Boy Blue�?= David  pseudonyms and a hotmail  address and password and wondered what and why they were recorded as such. He guessed his dad’s memory was poor and this was the reason. He shrugged his shoulders and settled down to wait for any more developments.
Just after midnight, a nurse said , “The doctor would like to see you now �?at the office please!�?BR>David quickly went to the ward office desk. The doctor said, “I’m very sorry, but your father passed away a few moments ago. We were just coming to get you when it happened.�?BR>His heart sank as he realised he would never see his father’s smiling face again, never hear his silly old jokes, never smell the old man odour which clung to his father like stale pipe tobacco. They would never watch television together or discuss the merits of single malt whiskies from different distilleries. Tears flowed freely as he remembered his dad when he was younger and instantly regretted that he had not done more for him after his mother had died. “Too bloody late now!�?he muttered.
A few days later, David went to collect his Father’s personal effects from the nursing home, which included the laptop which needed to be returned. It could wait for a day or two he decided. In his hotel room, David opened the laptop and was pleased to see that he was in a ‘hot spot�?and all the magic of the ‘w-fi�?technology was instantly available giving access to the internet. David was computer literate and had no trouble using the password to access Messenger. He could see the name ‘Sin-sister�?on there and it was ‘active�?BR>He sent a message asking for a chat. After a few moments, a reply came.
“Hello, is that David....where have you been?......I’ve missed you dreadfully!�?BR>David responded.
“I am not David the person  you normally communicate with on here........I am his son.�?/FONT>
There was a pause for a moment then a reply came, “I don’t understand......please explain?�?BR>“Can we meet?�?David asked,  “What I need to say would be best said face to face and not on here!�?BR>“Of course�?Alicia answered.
They arranged to meet under the clock at Waterloo Station at noon on the following day. “I’ll wear a West Ham scarf!�?David said. What will you be wearing?�?BR>As he typed the last line, the laptop ‘crashed�? It’s batteries were empty. He searched feverishly for the laptop’s charger and realised he’d left it behind. “Oh well, I’ll just have to go along and hope she recognises me from my description�?he muttered to himself.
The next day arrived and was a bright and sunny one for a change. David wondered what sort of friendship or acquaintanceship his father had had with Sin-Sister. He’d never mentioned her to him, obviously. He wondered how she would take the news of his recent death. Was she a hooker even?
Nah! his dad was too old to be bothered by pleasures of the flesh, he thought. The short train ride into the city took about half an hour and it was almost noon when he arrived at platform 6 as arranged and waited near the clock so see if the young woman, whose picture was embedded into his brain as much as it was on the the messenger page, was anywhere to be seen. Lots of tourists and city workers bustled around, but the only person remaining static under the clock was a little old lady in an electric wheel chair. Her eyes scanned the platforms and when she saw David’s mauve and blue scarf, she called out to him. “Hello, are you David?�?BR>He looked at her for a few seconds then walked over. “Sin-sister?�?he asked.....She smiled and said yes of course, and you are David, I recognise you, but you are not my  internet  David?�?BR>He shook his head. I have some bad news for you I’m afraid......My father, ‘Boy-Blue�?passed away a few days ago. I thought I’d tell you in person...Did you ever meet him?�?BR>“I guessed he was poorly�? Tears rolled down her face, “No, I was too embarrassed about my age and physical state to ever suggest it, but we did know each other really well....He sent  me your photograph you know, so that I wouldn’t realise he was old, and I sent him one of my daughter in the states, pretending it was me.....All seems so silly now!�?She continued,  “I always knew he was an old man because of his knowledge and wisdom, but I guess he never realised that I was like this eh?�?nbsp; She smiled philosophically, “Perhaps you should contact my daughter sometime if you are free......She is unattached now and is a lovely girl. Would you like her hotmail address to contact her?�?BR>“I might just do that sometime!�?he replied.
 
The End
 
 
© C.N - November 2006


First  Previous  2-8 of 8  Next  Last 
Reply
 Message 2 of 8 in Discussion 
From: MSN Nicknameswitchgears1_Sent: 11/14/2006 11:06 PM
 
Would tonight be different? The old man sat at his computer and grinned as he fumbled for the on switch. What could he tell her this evening that he had not already told her? Why had  such a beauty selected him. The tone of their messages which had begun on message boards, then progressed to chatrooms had now changed from, funny, ‘sending up’words, to  more ‘loving�?ones; even intimate at times, depending on how much either of them had been drinking when they were on line.
 
Her photograph sent to him via msn messenger, showed her young, natural beauty. The delightful sight of her at her best, displaying her strawberry blonde hair, her curvaceous figure draped over a sun lounger by the house pool, both created a current of excitement to ripple through his old flesh and muscle. He chuckled to himself then paused briefly as his mind drifted back nearly three decades when he was at his peak; a time of plenty in women, money and most of all company.

He recalled some of the romantic adventures he’d had, along with the hearts he’d broken with few regrets. So how had he ended up here, a lonely old man punching away at a keyboard trying to present an image of himself as a younger man?

The stroke had devastated him at first, then little by little he recovered each lost ability, up to the point where he now was, almost back to normal apart from some short term memory loss. The  visiting therapist told him he needed a hobby. “You spend too much time on your own!�?he declared. “Get yourself a laptop and join the world wide web to make  new friends in  places away from here. You get few visitors here and none when you were in hospital? Do you have any family?�?/DIV>

“I have a son who works in the city�?he replied, adding “But he’s always very busy and doesn’t get much free time.�?nbsp;

“That’s a shame, I think you need other people. You’re becoming socially isolated. Would you like me to see about getting a computer for you? We have special borrowing access for senior citizens to help them learn today’s technology. It won’t cost you anything! It’s funded by Age Concern!�?/DIV>

The old man agreed, and  later, after being shown the basics of his laptop,  he was soon on line and learning fast about all of its many uses. It was on one of these occasions, whilst surfing the web alone, he entered a room which advertised itself as one where you could make new friends easily.

Alicia, or ‘Sin-sister�?was already a member of the group and had so been for several months and her humour and easygoing ways had made her a popular person with whom to chat or post messages in the room. David, or ‘Boy Blue�?as he was known by his pseudonym was an obvious target for her as she began to engage him in regular conversations, ranging from the weather to politics and believe it or not, even feminism. Often they would laugh together at postings from people which they didn’t really understand or even ‘get the gist of�? 
 
They found they had a lot of common interests, but were especially dumfounded to discover that they both lived within 30 miles of each other.  On line etiquette and  normal worries had at first disbarred either of them from disclosing where they lived, but after a few months of long evening conversations which by now had moved from the MSN group room to the privacy of MSN Messenger, they realised that they both lived on different sides of London.

Alicia nagged David for his photograph and he stalled her for as long as he could, surmising that once she saw his elderly features, that she would lose interest in him and even though he realised that physical contact with her at any level was hardly likely to happen, what he felt for her now was more than just affection.

After recent health ordeals, he needed someone to love and to be loved by, even if it was only in a non physical way. But now the time had arrived to do something before he lost her.   The answer bowled him over with its simplicity. He would send her a photograph of his son who was in his mid thirties, unmarried and quite handsome. She needn’t ever know, and neither would his son, also called David. He was sure he’d get away with the pretence and after all, what harm was he doing?

The conversations went on daily for a long period of time, their wording becoming more and more like that of lovers than simply friends. The old man often wondered why Alicia didn’t make any effort for them both to meet and she thought the same about him, never supposing for one minute that it was physical appearance in reality which was the major stopping block.

Then one day, fate intervened. The old man continually  neglected his medication during the long hours of typing away into the night, using just one finger to form the words which he most wanted to convey. His loud shout and gasp before he slid into a coma,  was heard by one of the twilight shift at the nursing home and an ambulance was called to take him to hospital. His son was routinely called and highly agitated and upset he arrived at Queen Charlotte’s Hospital to be with his father.

The on call consultant told David that they were doing all they could, but they didn’t really expect his father to survive this time, so he should prepare himself for the worst case scenario.

“After all, he’s a very old man and this is not the first time for him is it?�?he asked. David shook his head and tried to stop the tears forming in his eyes. “He’s been so happy these last months too!�?his son said....”I don’t know...............

The doctor said, “There is one thing, your dad had a piece of paper with him which you might want!�?nbsp;

David scanned it, noting the ‘Sin-sister�?nbsp; = Alicia and the ‘Boy Blue�?= David  pseudonyms and a hotmail  address and password and wondered what and why they were recorded as such. He guessed his dad’s memory was poor and this was the reason. He shrugged his shoulders and settled down to wait for any more developments.

Just after midnight, a nurse said , “The doctor would like to see you now �?at the office please!�?/DIV>

David quickly went to the ward office desk. The doctor said, “I’m very sorry, but your father passed away a few moments ago. We were just coming to get you when it happened.�?/DIV>

His heart sank as he realised he would never see his father’s smiling face again, never hear his silly old jokes, never smell the old man odour which clung to his father like stale pipe tobacco. They would never watch television together or discuss the merits of single malt whiskies from different distilleries. Tears flowed freely as he remembered his dad when he was younger and instantly regretted that he had not done more for him after his mother had died. “Too bloody late now!�?he muttered.

A few days later, David went to collect his Father’s personal effects from the nursing home, which included the laptop which needed to be returned. It could wait for a day or two he decided. In his hotel room, David opened the laptop and was pleased to see that he was in a ‘hot spot�?and all the magic of the ‘w-fi�?technology was instantly available giving access to the internet. David was computer literate and had no trouble using the password to access Messenger. He could see the name ‘Sin-sister�?on there and it was ‘active�?/DIV>

He sent a message asking for a chat. After a few moments, a reply came.
“Hello, is that David....where have you been?......I’ve missed you dreadfully!�?/DIV>

David responded.  “I am not David the person  you normally communicate with on here........I am his son.�?/DIV>
 
There was a pause for a moment then a reply came, “I don’t  understand......please explain?�?/FONT>

“Can we meet?�?David asked,  “What I need to say would be best said face to face and not on here!�?/DIV>

“Of course�?Alicia answered.

They arranged to meet under the clock at Waterloo Station at noon on the following day. “I’ll wear a West Ham scarf!�?David said. What will you be wearing?�?/DIV>

As he typed the last line, the laptop ‘crashed�? It’s batteries were empty. He searched feverishly for the laptop’s charger and realised he’d left it behind. “Oh well, I’ll just have to go along and hope she recognises me from my description�?he muttered to himself.

The next day arrived and was a bright and sunny one for a change. David wondered what sort of friendship or acquaintanceship his father had had with Sin-Sister. He’d never mentioned her to him, obviously. He wondered how she would take the news of his recent death. Was she a hooker even?
Nah! his dad was too old to be bothered by pleasures of the flesh, he thought.
 
The short train ride into the city took about half an hour and it was almost noon when he arrived at platform 6 as arranged and waited near the clock so see if the young woman, whose picture was embedded into his brain as much as it was on the the messenger page, was anywhere to be seen.
 
Lots of tourists and city workers bustled around, but the only person remaining static under the clock was a little old lady in an electric wheel chair. Her eyes scanned the platforms and when she saw David’s mauve and blue scarf, she called out to him. “Hello, are you David?�?/DIV>

He looked at her for a few seconds then walked over. “Sin-sister?�?he asked.....
 
She smiled and said yes of course, and you are David, I recognise you, but you are not my  internet  David?�?/DIV>

He shook his head. I have some bad news for you I’m afraid......My father, ‘Boy-Blue�?passed away a few days ago. I thought I’d tell you in person. Did you ever meet him?�?/DIV>

“I guessed he was poorly�? Tears rolled down her face, “No, I was too embarrassed about my age and physical state to ever suggest it, but we did know each other really well....He sent  me your photograph you know, so that I wouldn’t realise he was old, and I sent him one of my daughter in the states, pretending it was me.....All seems so silly now!�?She continued,  “I always knew he was an old man because of his knowledge and wisdom, but I guess he never realised that I was like this eh?�?nbsp; She smiled philosophically, “Perhaps you should contact my daughter sometime if you are free......She is unattached now and is a lovely girl. Would you like her hotmail address to contact her?�?/DIV>

“I might just do that sometime!�?he replied.
 
The End

Reply
 Message 3 of 8 in Discussion 
From: MSN Nicknameswitchgears1_Sent: 11/14/2006 11:06 PM
 
Would tonight be different? The old man sat at his computer and grinned as he fumbled for the on switch. What could he tell her this evening that he had not already told her? Why had  such a beauty selected him. The tone of their messages which had begun on message boards, then progressed to chatrooms had now changed from, funny, ‘sending up’words, to  more ‘loving�?ones; even intimate at times, depending on how much either of them had been drinking when they were on line.
 
Her photograph sent to him via msn messenger, showed her young, natural beauty. The delightful sight of her at her best, displaying her strawberry blonde hair, her curvaceous figure draped over a sun lounger by the house pool, both created a current of excitement to ripple through his old flesh and muscle. He chuckled to himself then paused briefly as his mind drifted back nearly three decades when he was at his peak; a time of plenty in women, money and most of all company.

He recalled some of the romantic adventures he’d had, along with the hearts he’d broken with few regrets. So how had he ended up here, a lonely old man punching away at a keyboard trying to present an image of himself as a younger man?

The stroke had devastated him at first, then little by little he recovered each lost ability, up to the point where he now was, almost back to normal apart from some short term memory loss. The  visiting therapist told him he needed a hobby. “You spend too much time on your own!�?he declared. “Get yourself a laptop and join the world wide web to make  new friends in  places away from here. You get few visitors here and none when you were in hospital? Do you have any family?�?/DIV>

“I have a son who works in the city�?he replied, adding “But he’s always very busy and doesn’t get much free time.�?nbsp;

“That’s a shame, I think you need other people. You’re becoming socially isolated. Would you like me to see about getting a computer for you? We have special borrowing access for senior citizens to help them learn today’s technology. It won’t cost you anything! It’s funded by Age Concern!�?/DIV>

The old man agreed, and  later, after being shown the basics of his laptop,  he was soon on line and learning fast about all of its many uses. It was on one of these occasions, whilst surfing the web alone, he entered a room which advertised itself as one where you could make new friends easily.

Alicia, or ‘Sin-sister�?was already a member of the group and had so been for several months and her humour and easygoing ways had made her a popular person with whom to chat or post messages in the room. David, or ‘Boy Blue�?as he was known by his pseudonym was an obvious target for her as she began to engage him in regular conversations, ranging from the weather to politics and believe it or not, even feminism. Often they would laugh together at postings from people which they didn’t really understand or even ‘get the gist of�? 
 
They found they had a lot of common interests, but were especially dumfounded to discover that they both lived within 30 miles of each other.  On line etiquette and  normal worries had at first disbarred either of them from disclosing where they lived, but after a few months of long evening conversations which by now had moved from the MSN group room to the privacy of MSN Messenger, they realised that they both lived on different sides of London.

Alicia nagged David for his photograph and he stalled her for as long as he could, surmising that once she saw his elderly features, that she would lose interest in him and even though he realised that physical contact with her at any level was hardly likely to happen, what he felt for her now was more than just affection.

After recent health ordeals, he needed someone to love and to be loved by, even if it was only in a non physical way. But now the time had arrived to do something before he lost her.   The answer bowled him over with its simplicity. He would send her a photograph of his son who was in his mid thirties, unmarried and quite handsome. She needn’t ever know, and neither would his son, also called David. He was sure he’d get away with the pretence and after all, what harm was he doing?

The conversations went on daily for a long period of time, their wording becoming more and more like that of lovers than simply friends. The old man often wondered why Alicia didn’t make any effort for them both to meet and she thought the same about him, never supposing for one minute that it was physical appearance in reality which was the major stopping block.

Then one day, fate intervened. The old man continually  neglected his medication during the long hours of typing away into the night, using just one finger to form the words which he most wanted to convey. His loud shout and gasp before he slid into a coma,  was heard by one of the twilight shift at the nursing home and an ambulance was called to take him to hospital. His son was routinely called and highly agitated and upset he arrived at Queen Charlotte’s Hospital to be with his father.

The on call consultant told David that they were doing all they could, but they didn’t really expect his father to survive this time, so he should prepare himself for the worst case scenario.

“After all, he’s a very old man and this is not the first time for him is it?�?he asked. David shook his head and tried to stop the tears forming in his eyes. “He’s been so happy these last months too!�?his son said....”I don’t know...............

The doctor said, “There is one thing, your dad had a piece of paper with him which you might want!�?nbsp;

David scanned it, noting the ‘Sin-sister�?nbsp; = Alicia and the ‘Boy Blue�?= David  pseudonyms and a hotmail  address and password and wondered what and why they were recorded as such. He guessed his dad’s memory was poor and this was the reason. He shrugged his shoulders and settled down to wait for any more developments.

Just after midnight, a nurse said , “The doctor would like to see you now �?at the office please!�?/DIV>

David quickly went to the ward office desk. The doctor said, “I’m very sorry, but your father passed away a few moments ago. We were just coming to get you when it happened.�?/DIV>

His heart sank as he realised he would never see his father’s smiling face again, never hear his silly old jokes, never smell the old man odour which clung to his father like stale pipe tobacco. They would never watch television together or discuss the merits of single malt whiskies from different distilleries. Tears flowed freely as he remembered his dad when he was younger and instantly regretted that he had not done more for him after his mother had died. “Too bloody late now!�?he muttered.

A few days later, David went to collect his Father’s personal effects from the nursing home, which included the laptop which needed to be returned. It could wait for a day or two he decided. In his hotel room, David opened the laptop and was pleased to see that he was in a ‘hot spot�?and all the magic of the ‘w-fi�?technology was instantly available giving access to the internet. David was computer literate and had no trouble using the password to access Messenger. He could see the name ‘Sin-sister�?on there and it was ‘active�?/DIV>

He sent a message asking for a chat. After a few moments, a reply came.
“Hello, is that David....where have you been?......I’ve missed you dreadfully!�?/DIV>

David responded.  “I am not David the person  you normally communicate with on here........I am his son.�?/DIV>
 
There was a pause for a moment then a reply came, “I don’t  understand......please explain?�?/FONT>

“Can we meet?�?David asked,  “What I need to say would be best said face to face and not on here!�?/DIV>

“Of course�?Alicia answered.

They arranged to meet under the clock at Waterloo Station at noon on the following day. “I’ll wear a West Ham scarf!�?David said. What will you be wearing?�?/DIV>

As he typed the last line, the laptop ‘crashed�? It’s batteries were empty. He searched feverishly for the laptop’s charger and realised he’d left it behind. “Oh well, I’ll just have to go along and hope she recognises me from my description�?he muttered to himself.

The next day arrived and was a bright and sunny one for a change. David wondered what sort of friendship or acquaintanceship his father had had with Sin-Sister. He’d never mentioned her to him, obviously. He wondered how she would take the news of his recent death. Was she a hooker even?
Nah! his dad was too old to be bothered by pleasures of the flesh, he thought.
 
The short train ride into the city took about half an hour and it was almost noon when he arrived at platform 6 as arranged and waited near the clock so see if the young woman, whose picture was embedded into his brain as much as it was on the the messenger page, was anywhere to be seen.
 
Lots of tourists and city workers bustled around, but the only person remaining static under the clock was a little old lady in an electric wheel chair. Her eyes scanned the platforms and when she saw David’s mauve and blue scarf, she called out to him. “Hello, are you David?�?/DIV>

He looked at her for a few seconds then walked over. “Sin-sister?�?he asked.....
 
She smiled and said yes of course, and you are David, I recognise you, but you are not my  internet  David?�?/DIV>

He shook his head. I have some bad news for you I’m afraid......My father, ‘Boy-Blue�?passed away a few days ago. I thought I’d tell you in person. Did you ever meet him?�?/DIV>

“I guessed he was poorly�? Tears rolled down her face, “No, I was too embarrassed about my age and physical state to ever suggest it, but we did know each other really well....He sent  me your photograph you know, so that I wouldn’t realise he was old, and I sent him one of my daughter in the states, pretending it was me.....All seems so silly now!�?She continued,  “I always knew he was an old man because of his knowledge and wisdom, but I guess he never realised that I was like this eh?�?nbsp; She smiled philosophically, “Perhaps you should contact my daughter sometime if you are free......She is unattached now and is a lovely girl. Would you like her hotmail address to contact her?�?/DIV>

“I might just do that sometime!�?he replied.
 
The End

Reply
 Message 4 of 8 in Discussion 
From: MSN Nicknameswitchgears1_Sent: 12/7/2006 8:25 PM
 
The Bag Lady
 
A movement by the trash cans —A bulging aged crone!
Matted hair �?Bleary eyes —Leather covered bone!
 
 Emerging from her rotting bed
To feed a need inside her head
 
Stumbling —Lurching —Ransacking bins!
Frantically searching —Peering in  tins!
 
Suddenly she holds high her prize
Excitement in her bloodshot eyes.
 
A half-full can —Stinking —Rank!
With a thirst to kill —It’s quickly drank
 
Victim of society? —It knows but doesn’t care!
The Bag lady can’t tell us �?Her mind’s no longer there.
 
Her way of life she has in place,
For an unloved soul in the human race.
 
©C.N
2006

Reply
 Message 5 of 8 in Discussion 
From: MSN Nicknameswitchgears1_Sent: 1/16/2007 12:08 AM
 
(Spotting the Green Eyed Monster Thread in Philosophy and BS made me post this. Sorry if I have put it on here before?)
 
Jealousy

Asleep!
Mind teased by dreams -  Silent torture.
Yet, I cannot weep although alone.
Her image is like the squeeze of a child’s hand.
Personal Armageddon; unwanted and unplanned.
Mouths spouted words hard and bitter as a damson stone.
Mind acted on it’s own, unwilling to allow trust and time.
Remorse!
What was my crime, for which I’ve  paid the highest price?
Unrecognised of course!
But a  cruel throw of the dice.
Without her - a joyless life.
As hollow as a  dead man’s hate!
I understand now of course,
But then you see, it is too late!
©
C.N

Reply
 Message 6 of 8 in Discussion 
From: MSN Nicknameswitchgears1_Sent: 1/30/2007 5:14 PM
 
Mishap  (Original Message) Sent: 1/26/2007 3:25 PM
 
 
Alternatives?
 
Another time, another age,
Another month, another year,
Ambition gone, inner rage,
Future waits, as yet unclear.
Another part, another day,
Another hour, another minute,
How or what to think or say,
Living life with little in it.
 
Another love, another passion
Another fault, another caring
Feelings always there to ration
Analyse and deep soul baring
Another moment, another start
Another summer, another dawn
Poised, disturbing hope and heart
Pregnant dreams as yet unborn
 
Another dream, another aim,
Another challenge, another fate.
Little prospect, who’s to blame?
Self considered second rate.
Another era, another generation,
 Another person, another decade.
Decisions made by speculation,
This man’s path through life is laid.

©cn
25/1/07

Reply
 Message 7 of 8 in Discussion 
From: MSN Nicknameswitchgears1_Sent: 2/18/2007 9:56 PM
: Mishap  (Original Message) Sent: 2/18/2007 2:38 PM
 
 
 
24 Acacia Avenue.
 
“How long before I can move in,�?I asked the contractor. I was fed up with waiting for the outer renovations to the house; the new roof and repairs to brickwork to be completed.
 “Six�?weeks!�?.........”That’s what I said it’d take thereabouts!�?
I remembered the builder Bob Durham’s smug  expression as he saw  the look of dismay on my face. This was to be my first real home. It had cost me dear, despite the fact that as far as I knew, I was its only potential buyer. The owner, a grumpy old man, would not drop his price by even the smallest amount.  I wondered why nobody else was interested in the place which for me was ideal, but this was ‘laughed off�?by the estate agents saying that it was the ‘wrong time of year �?etc.
However, eventually I managed to ‘beg, steal and borrow�?enough money to buy the place, intending to do a lot of the repair work which it badly needed myself.
It took only a few days to realise my mistake. The survey too which I agreed prior to purchase, was not a full one and therefore missed some glaring, expensive problems with the inside walls. I was first saddened when I realised that most of them needed re-plastering.  Poking or digging around to free up old wallpaper, left large holes. It was quickly evident that the whole place needed rewiring and access to the cellar, which I had ‘earmarked�?for conversion to den or study for myself would not be easy to achieve. I consoled myself with the fact that at least now I was single again, I had plenty of evenings and weekends  outside of my everyday job in sales to do the work.
The bills began to mount and my interest in diy in the house began to waver. I finally came to the conclusion that my purchase was a big mistake and one which needed to be remedied swiftly or I would end up in the bankruptcy court.
Being single had advantages. It meant that I could more easily tolerate the mess and poor conditions inside the house whilst waiting to decide what to do next without having to consult or persuade a partner. So, I made a decision. It was all a mistake. I called in the estate agents and asked them to put the house back on the market for me. I made up some story about emigrating to Australia and hoped they would believe me. Once again I noticed the slight smirk on the two young men’s faces as they came to measure up and look over the limited amount of refurbishment and decorating I had been able to do in the six months or so that I’d lived there.
“You’d getter a much better price for it sir if you were able to do anything with that cellar!�?.........one of them said. “A laundry room or how about putting a snooker table in there and maybe even a small bar or something?�?The other one added. “You could leave the walls as they are just red brick and just clean them up a bit and put flagstones on the floor and it’d be a great games room!  Seen one or two others around here like that and it’s always a good selling point.�?BR>“Already considered that, but I need to open up that entrance a bit first, I think�?I replied.
“That might not be too difficult sir, but you better get a builder to check it for you ‘cos we think this building, along with that string of cottages up there, was hit  in a bombing raid during the last war. Lot of damage done evidently, but most of it repaired after the war, thank God.�?BR>“Well, the surveyor never mentioned anything about it.....So it must be ok, right?�?
“You don’t think that was the reason this place was on the market for so long last time do you?�?I asked, hoping for an honest reply. “Oh no sir!........But there was a daft rumour going around for  years that this place was a bit haunted......You know, weird sounds at night and sounds of digging. Don’t suppose you ever heard anything sir? You never mentioned it.........Still nobody in their right mind believes in anything like ghosts today, surely?�?BR>Well, I don’t anyway!�?I answered abruptly.
The two smartly dressed young men left, and said they would be in touch shortly. I watched them grinning and chuckling on the way to their car parked just along the road. I muttered to myself, “I bet they did know about the bloody rumours and chose not to mention it to me when I was buying the place. Still, what difference would it have made?�?BR>I put on some old clothes and thought that I would have a try at widening the cellar door...”I’m not going to bloody well pay for a builder to knock out a few bricks when I can do it myself!�?nbsp; I grumbled and went to look for my 9lb sledge hammer with which I had removed the battered old garden fence. First of all I had a look at the cellar entrance construction and saw that its surrounding timber was rotten. “That’ll soon come off!�?I thought and took a swing with the hammer. There was an enormous clumping sound followed by what can only be described as a something akin to a sandstorm as the whole doorway collapsed, covering myself and the surrounding area with rubble. After a few minutes, when the dust settled, could see a large dark hole next to the cellar entrance. It looked almost like the entrance to a cave. A foetid smell floated from the room and as I waited for my vision and senses to clear, I’m sure I heard a sound that resembled a loud moan. “Jesus Christ what have I done?�?I asked myself. I climbed back up the concrete steps to my hallway from where I found my car torch. With this in my hand I returned to the scene of the damage and looked inside. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as my torch beam swept around the room and settled on something in the corner. I forced myself to stand up and enter the hole. I could now see clearly what the white object in the corner was . A pile of bones, but to me the most distinctive part was the fact that I could clearly see two skulls.
“What the hell has.........................At this point I heard the sound of heavy feet on the stairs and in the hallway upstairs. “This is the police...You all right down there sir?�?a voice shouted from above.
“Yes.......I think so!�?I replied nervously. Had a bit of an accident though with some building work and it looks like I’ve uncovered something you might be interested in...Would you like to take a look?�?BR>A large police sergeant arrived alongside of me and saw what my torch beam was still illuminating. “I see what you mean sir!......he said nonchalantly. Any ideas?.....They look as though they been there a long time by the colour of them bones. We’ll have to get the big boys in sir...Routine in a case like this.�?BR>I nodded and made my way back up the stairs wondering how I had become the proud owner of at least two skeletons in my cellar. I suddenly realised that if they proved to be murder victims or whatever, I’d never be able to sell the bloody house. “Just my damn luck!�?I cursed. The sirens soon announced the arrival of the forensic pathologist and the SOCO teams, who immediately ribboned off the area. A senior detective told me I’d have to stay in a hotel for a couple of days until their investigations and evidence gathering was complete. Trying to find some humour in my predicament, I
wondered if this was covered by my house and buildings insurance as I went off to find a suitable place.
A few days passed before I was told that I could return home and to my surprise, the scenes of crimes and forensic teams had left the place really clean and tidy and had even placed strong timber supports in to stop any further collapse near the cellar. Only a chalk mark on the floor now indicated where the bodies had lain. I realised that I needed to know what happened to the people who had evidently died in my cellar.  I didn’t have to wait very long.  Detective Inspector Manley himself came to see me to explain. “We’ve done all the forensic stuff sir and dental records show us who the deceased are. “It seems that the remains  in your cellar belong to a certain Mr and Mrs Humphries who owned this house during the war. The place was hit by a 500lb’er when it was bombed. According to one of your elderly
neighbours, it appears that Mr Humphries was a bit of a ‘scrooge�?and would not pay out for an Anderson shelter to protect them from the bombing. He thought his cellar was strong enough to keep them safe and so it proved actually. Unfortunately, it also became their prison  and grave once the house collapsed on top of it. Nobody knew they were there. Mind you, it was 60 odd years ago now. By the way, there was also a lot of  expensive jewellery found  in there along with their bones. Lot of good it did ‘em eh?  They have no living relatives it seems, so you may have a good chance of claiming the stuff. Good luck anyway! It’s going to cost you an arm and a leg to correct the damage, isn’t it sir?�?With a grin, he left and went out to his car.
For a moment I was flummoxed. What an event. How would it all end?  To myself I made a vow. No more diy jobs at home or anywhere else, ever! A mischievous thought crept into my head, what if?  What if the jewellery became mine? What if there was any cash left over? Yes, I would take a holiday before deciding what to do with----------
 --------24 Acacia Avenue.

©
C.N. 2007

Reply
 Message 8 of 8 in Discussion 
From: MSN Nicknameswitchgears1_Sent: 3/25/2007 6:32 AM
Writer's Challenge porn without description of body parts
 
 
Mishap Sent: 5/29/2006 2:09 PM
A yellow tungsten glow from a badly placed streetlight pierced the gloom of the small  rented room in which the two, who having  met just two hours earlier, intended to spend the night together. Unidentifable tropical night sounds acted as an erotic symphony and hung in the humid air as did the fragrance of the nearby Jacarandas. It was as if they had known each other for years as they slid off their few clothes and danced around naked in the the room in the dark, without music - totally absorbed in exploring and enjoying each other's bodies. They both drunkenly bumped into items of what could loosely be called furniture, Meg sighed and whimpered as George pulled her in close to him and nibbled  her right earlobe and nuzzled her neck. This caused her to move her body in an almost uncontrollable sexual manner, anticipating what was yet to come. They both fell onto the bed and Meg ran her fingers through his thinning hair and disguising her disgust, rubbed off the excess gel onto the bedsheet.
George finished his attentions to her ear lobe and began to nibble and tease other parts of her body.Meg gasped with pleasure. In her experience, few men ever really bothered to allow her to enjoy herself during this part of sex. This would be so different.  Despite George being a large person in every sense and also lazy, he slid himself on top and after a lot of fumbling about as he sought penetration, laughed and said, "Sorry! ....Ah got there finally!" 
Meg knew he hadn't of course but was now feeling  breathless and wanted it to be over as quickly as possible so she could breathe  comfortably again.
Then something happened which changed everything. George screamed out, "What the hell was that?" My back! My back!...So bloody painful!.....I don't mind a bit of passion, but Jesus!.....I'm ripped to shreds!"
At this point it became clear what had occurred as the large tom cat gave a defiant 'miaow' and leapt out of the open window onto the porch roof outside.
"Shall we try  it again?" asked Meg encouragingly......."Not tonight!" George answered, thinking of his sore back and increasingly sore wedding tackle. "Was that your bloody cat?"

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