(names have been changed to protect the guilty)
Molly stood at the foot of the stairs, her school bag weighing her down. It had been a long day and now she was home. She could not help wondering what fresh hell would be imposed on her, though. It had been like this ever since her father had remarried. What had once been a promise of individual attention and fun, had become an annoyance, with the addition of her step-monster’s children in her once calm existence.
All seemed quiet on the oxygen-theft front, she thought darkly, but she knew this could change at any moment. It dawned on Molly that she was presently home alone and she quickly skipped up the stairs to begin her homework while peace reigned supreme.
At some unknown point in your life, reality will "klap" you on the side of the head on a random Tuesday afternoon, flinging your rose coloured glasses to the ground. The real truth will stare you in the face, forcing you to pay attention.
Teddy Humphries was a loser. No, a Loser (capital L). At 43, he had a mundane job, no female companionship, did not own a home and spent his evenings jerking off frantically to bad Internet porn. The edge and underside of his desk were always a little crusty, but Teddy didn’t care: there was nobody to notice, or complain about the clean-up job. It is important to understand that Teddy didn’t see himself as a loser, despite all the evidence to the contrary.
I am back. I have missed this odd little community, so am hoping to rebuild it - if I can lure people back again. Then we can be a whole purse full of bad pennies. Home is where my crazies are, so I'm going to settle in and see who I can persuade to come back. I will track you down.
This was originally on Blogmark but I have lost the name of the author - if it's you let me know.
I could not resist copying this from Literotica. Written by sheepyboy
The front door closed and the young man who lived in the third floor city flat went out to work on another busy Monday morning.
Not a red rose or a satin heart.
where it should be
next to the bed
the computers of your co-workers
your laptop bag
the box you carry files around in
boot of your car
give up for a while
handbag, shake it upside down, and check the lining
briefcase, turn upside down
boot of car
under the car seats, and down the sides
Sometimes I wonder whether the secret to happiness is to keep moving, to keep changing. I was so happy when I first moved here, I remember cold evenings crocheting a blanket in soft wool, in front of a roaring tv screen. And warm days, when I saw my first big fat bumble bee, and Miranda swam in the biggest enamel bowl that I could find in the rented house.
Site vanished for a holiday?
St. Swithin's Day
So there was I cooking dinner at just before 6pm this evening when I get a phone call from Mrs Wiz saying
Therefore I am an Idiot!
At the risk of seeming to be entirely bored by the ANC's bullying and racist shrieks from everyone, has nobody else noticed the beginning of the Zombie Apocalypse?
I wrote this really slowly because I realise you may battle to read proper sentences.
WTF - where IS everyone? Gone to pastures, everyone? I'm lonely and bored right now and am in desperate need of some entertainment so...who has something to offer?