Words Are Forever!

 

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(Photo credit: Flickr)

Sean kicked the grass in frustration, his eyes filled with tears and he tried to control himself with great difficulty. His dad‘s harsh voice resounded in his mind like a volcanic eruption, ”You’re no good, you’re like your mother – a drug addict! I hate you.” He dashed inside the house, his dad recoiled on a chair, a glass of beer in his right hand, remote control on the other. They exchanged hateful glances. And Sean raised the gun.

*

Hamza tried to stop the tirades of abuse from the boys in the estate, ‘you’re a loser, go kill yourself.’ At home, it was worse, his mother was stoned twenty-four hours a day… He left the house but the words of the boys clung to him like a second skin.

*

Chloe’s brown eyes light up in anticipation. Her dad kissed her on the cheek, and said with a smile, ‘you light up my world angel, you’re a star, you can do this.’ She nodded, her future is bright, she knows she can do anything she set her heart to, she had been nurtured with loving words, right through her childhood, and now at the age of twenty, the world is her oyster.

* * * * *

The words we speak has the power to destroy or build up, let’s be mindful of our words. Some people were damaged by words of others while some have killed others by their words. Let’s choose our words carefully. A word fitly spoken has the power to change a life…

Think about that this weekend, and I wish you love, peace and happiness, wherever you are in the world my friends. Have a great weekend!

Much love, always.

🙂

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Stranded At Santum Close (4)

jtkunley

(Photo credit: jtkunley)

The man fell down with a  heavy swoop, hitting the ground like a bomb, his eyes turned red and Linda screamed, staring at her assailant in shock.

*****************************

A day after Linda’s disappearance, Gordon was desperate to find answers and he decided to check his wife’s things. He rummaged through the contents of the drawers in their room as sweat poured from his agitated body in torrents. He threw his wife’s clothes on the floor, looking around with a deranged glint in his eyes and swore softly under his breath. His gaze swept the room clean and he shook his head in despair, he was sure he had checked everywhere.

Eliza appeared at the doorway with arms akimbo and his demeanour spelt trouble but Gordon was not in the mood for his arguments.

‘Dad, what do you think you’re doing?’

Gordon sighed in defeat and answered, ‘I am looking for clues son, anything that could show me what to do!’ Eliza considered that, came inside the room, then sat down on the bed.

‘I found mom’s diary on the table when she left for work yesterday, she must have forgotten it, you might find some answers there.’ ‘Eliza said quietly, his eyes sad. Gordon took the blue diary from him and held it to his heart.

‘Thanks son, I’ll see if I can find anything in it.’

Eliza nodded and left the room and the next thing Gordon heard was a deafening sound as gunshots erupted outside his bedroom, he heard stomping footsteps and his heart broke into a million fragments.  Disregarding his own safety, Gordon bolted out of the room after his son, but it was too late. Eliza was lying on the corridor with blood pouring out of his chest wound.

‘No!!!’ Gordon yelled and held his son close to his chest, weeping uncontrollably. He gently laid him back, ran into his room, yanked open the door of his walk in wardrobe, picked up one of his semi automatic rifles, and strode out of his room, darting downstairs but there was no one around. Minutes later, sounds of siren tore down his street and Gordon finally realized, that  his life was rapidly going downhill.

Three police officers alighted from their cars, their gloomy eyes suggested they hated the sight of the grief ridden man whose house had become accursed.

************

I appreciate everyone who has followed this story thus far, the culminating part would be posted next week. Do continue to enjoy the rest of your week!

Much love, always. 🙂

Stranded At Santum Close (3)

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Linda sat demurely on a wooden chair with her hands tied to the back, she had tried to search for a way of escape, but there appeared to be none. She looked round and surmised that the room where she was kept was a loft conversion, it was empty and bare, the tiled floor gleamed and had a funny smell. Her head ached and a soft moan escaped her bruised lips. ‘It’s unbelievable that I could be abducted in broad daylight!’ she thought indignantly with a frown.

She’d just came out from St Paul underground station and was walking briskly towards her office at Little Britain when a black Sedan parked beside her and two men jumped out, one grabbed her by the wrist and the other expertly dragged her to the back of the car and they zoomed off. Everything happened within minutes, she screamed but one of the men closed her mouth roughly with a white handkerchief, and the next thing she knew was waking up and finding herself strapped to a wooden chair. Strangely, she was not scared but was certainly worried about the motive behind her kidnapping.

She sat in the middle of the room with her back to the door. Sunlight streamed down from the only window in the room, for that, she was grateful because she hated staying in the dark. She heard a key turning on the door and someone entered. Linda gritted her teeth silently and waited.

A man came into view and slapped her hard on the face, her head jerked backwards violently, as an involuntary sob escaped her. Linda swallowed hard and tasted blood, rage built up inside her but she knew the only way she could survive was to show no fear. She clamped down on her resolve to scream. Her assailant was around Eliza’s age, twenty-three but massive with a baby face and arms built like steel, his brown wavy hair looked out-of-place on his white pasty skin. He crouched low and spat out angrily,

‘You’ve got nowhere to hide woman, your secret is out!’

Linda stared at the man, her hands hurt like hell, but the only thing she saw was her husband’s angry face. She stared defiantly at her accuser and asked,

‘What do you want from me? Who are you? What secrets are you talking about?’
‘You are the Führer‘s descendant and must be cleansed!’
‘The Führer?’ And she scoffed but suddenly, the dingy room where they were began to spin, Linda almost vomited as memories flashed through her mind. The whisperings in the night, the surreptitious looks her parents sneakily threw her way while she was dating Gordon and the final sigh of relief when she finally got married and her mother called her aside and dropped the bombshell, she was adopted – and from that moment onwards, her life changed forever. She had hidden her true parentage from Gordon; there was no need to embark on a pilgrimage that would only end in tears.
‘My biological father died shortly after I was born, my mother died in a road accident in Vienna when I was two, that’s all I know.’

‘You liar!’ the man screamed and raised his right hand to strike again but he froze when a shadow crossed his path.

*************************************

I appreciate everyone who has read this story up till now, two more posts and it’s over – unless I changed my mind and turn it into a full length adult fiction but I’ve not decided yet, my hands are full as it is. The message in this story has to do with race, or our parentage. We can’t choose where we were born or to whom, so let’s just try to love one another in spite of our differences. Thanks so much for taking time to drop by!

Live well and love well!

🙂 🙂

And They Were Men!

Glenda Otero

(Glenda Otero)

Rippling muscles, maybe none!

Great smiles, baritones voices;

They searched for food, they found a home,

 They looked for success, they found contentment,

Great men don’t have to be in your screens,

Great men were not born

They were made.

Not all are fathers…

Not all fathers are great…

Some, were just men.

One great man said,

”No other success in life – not being President, wealthy, or going to college, or writing a book, or anything else – comes up to the success of the MAN ( or woman) who can feel that they have done their duty and their children and grandchildren rise up and call them blessed!”

                                                                                                                                                                         ”President Theodore Roosevelt

I think President Roosevelt was right. Nowadays, we  have so many absentee fathers but I’m not going to dwell on that today! I just want to praise great men, like my dad, my husband, Alastair Forbes, Freddie, Roderick Craig Low… just a few among the throng of really great men. Happy father’s day to you guys, we (your daughters, wives, partners, friends,) appreciate you.

I hope you are enjoying your day and I hope you’ll have a fantastic week as well.

Much love, always!

🙂 🙂