Somehow… We’re All Connected

 

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(Photo credit: Flickr)

My office is in a prestigious and historic building in Whitehall, and every day on my way to the office, I love saying hello to the cleaners making the place a beautiful sight.

They are as important as the Prime Minister, Theresa May.

Maybe some people might not agree with me, but we’re all important. From the bus driver struggling through the morning traffic to the chef in the restaurant trying to bring sanity to the chaos in the kitchen to the cashier at the grocery store who might endure muffled abuse from disgruntled customers to the care assistant who takes care of  our older relatives or the nursery assistant who has to endure the incessant screams of restless babies and yet, has to smile and reassure parents that all has been well when it hasn’t.

I reckon, we’re all the same.

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The feeling of ”I’m always right and I know everything all” has the hallmark of a ‘jerk syndrome.’ I respect all the men and women holding two to three jobs, trying to make ends meet while also bringing up their children at the same time. They are superheroes.

Now don’t get me wrong, life isn’t a straight line, but it would augur well to appreciate people who appear to be doing menial jobs. I once got into an argument with a former boss who refused to allow his driver in the same lift with him, I didn’t mince my words when I told him in no uncertain terms that he was wrong. You can imagine what happened after that, I got fired? Hell no (forgive my language), he apologised to his driver and increased his pay. Although I later realised that the truth is a bitter pill to swallow.

We’re all connected.

Imagine the scenario where we’re all rich, every single soul on this planet is wealthy. Where would you find the shopkeepers, drivers, butchers, child-minders, just to mention a few? So, why not give that sweaty waitress a sincere smile and the cleaner at your HQ an appreciative grin? Maybe I’m wrong, let me know what you think.

Have a wonderful weekend friends, and may the coming week bring you peace!

Much love, always. 🙂

 

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Out Of The Ashes

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I believe in life after death, not every one does, but I do. Human beings aren’t merely flesh and blood, we have souls, and soul are indestructible. I’ve got friends who are atheists, so I’m not going to expand too much on this before I start a debate that would rival a sitting in the House of Commons.

Yesterday marked exactly ten years when people with warped views of life took the lives of 52 Londoners, they also left almost 100 people with life changing injuries and scars. Yeah I know, my post is a day late but the topic isn’t. After work yesterday, I caught a few glimpse on the news and was sad at such wanton destruction of human lives. But I was proud, (in fact, I still am) to be a Londoner. Years has passed, but we’ve grown stronger as a city. More tourists visited London than ever before, I love travelling on the tube, bus or on a private car. It’s testament to the fact that evil will and cannot win.

If we read the news, there’s always stuff that would make our tummies churn (my daughter always says that), but life isn’t all gore and horror. There’s the incomparable breath of fresh air, there’s the sheer joy of clean water, what about the juicy goodness of an orange? The list is endless, life is good, and it’s tough, I won’t dispute that.

The relatives of the 7/7 bombing and the senseless and needless attack in Sousse would be comforted by the love and prayers sent their way. I believe in prayers but I also believe in living each day with a heart of thanksgiving in spite of my circumstances, that, I believe is what would keep me sane and out of the ashes of stress and despair. My husband used to say that everyone has problems, it’s just our ways of dealing with life’s daily grind that’s different.

I would end my post with this simple quote from Groucho Marx, ‘I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.’ 15598033400_01b66cb659_k (2) NP: I’m still writing, albeit slowly. I’ve informed my publisher of my inability to submit my manuscripts until next year. Life seems to have a way of sending many distractions my way and I always oblige 🙂 I hope everyone is fine. Please, stay safe! Much love to you guys, always! 🙂 🙂

Avalanche

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(Photo Credit: Flickr)

Pete stared at the papers in his hands and his blood froze.

Amanda, his wife of five years wanted a divorce, what a way to start the year! He sat down wearily on the bed as his mind raced to the red-head beauty who bumped into him at Mile End underground station in London – she had apologised profusely and they got talking. Within weeks, their romance blossomed. As an Investment Banker, Pete had little time to woo her but Amanda more or less took control of his life.

Within two years, they were married, and his parents were delighted. A year after marriage, Amanda was desperate for a child, he wasn’t that bothered. After all, he’s always holed up at his office in the City, slaving away to make as much money as he could. They hardly spend time together and deep down, he knew it could be the reason she wanted out. They love each other, why would Amanda think divorcing him would make her life better? The noise of his phone disrupted his reminiscing  and he grunted before picking it up from the bedside table.

‘Yeah,’ Pete drawled and listened, then clicked it shut. Switzerland. He’d totally forgotten about the holiday he’d pre booked weeks earlier. Like a slow motion, hope began a painful ascent in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, time away from their usual life in London would spice things up a bit, and talk of divorce would disappear.

Half an hour later, Amanda strolled into the room, avoiding any eye contacts.

‘Shouldn’t we at least talk about this?’ Pete asked quietly, waving the papers in his hands. He couldn’t stop staring at his wife, whose hourglass figure never ceased to amaze him.

‘We’ll talk when we get to Switzerland,’ she replied. Pete laughed and said lightly, ‘Women and holidays!’

But there was something different about her. He stood up and pulled her into his arms, he was half expecting her to resist but she didn’t.

‘Is this what you want honey?’ he mumbled into her hair, rocking her as he would a day old baby.

Amanda swallowed hard, then closed her eyes. How could she back track now after realising the root of their problems? Divorce was the only way out, or so she thought…

………

NP: I was supposed to have posted this on Thursday but I was extremely busy, I would have to make this a two or three-part series. Amanda and Pete are a couple whose story touched me deeply. It’s also a true story, but as usual, I would change their names to protect their identity and add elements of fiction to it as well. I would post the next part sometimes next week, at least before Valentine’s day. Martin Luther said something that touched me: ‘There is no more lovely, friendly and charming relationship, communion or company than a good marriage.’

Call me a traditionalist, but my parents have been married for almost fifty years, they had their good, bad, and excellent times but they stuck together. Now I think they’re best of friends.

I hope you would have a peaceful, restful and enjoyable week. I intend to!

Much love, always! 🙂

Here Is It!

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”THE BIG clock in Ilford town centre in East London resounded at seven in the evening. The town centre was still bustling with shoppers when a glittering black GMC 4×4 slid past the shoppers and came to a screeching halt at Cranbrook road, a few miles from the town centre. Three men got out of the jeep and dashed into the Golden Oaks pub, brandishing AK-47 assault rifles.

 The pub was packed full of people that cool Wednesday evening, and the men heralded a tense atmosphere as they barged in. There were muted gasps from everyone. Aaron Cohen was among the throng of people in the pub. Instantly, he knew they were looking for him.

A woman stifled a sob and her whimpering grated on Aaron’s nerves. Slowly, he slipped his face cap down to hide his identity: it would do him good to stay hidden.

There was complete silence.”

********

Well friends, here’s the cover of my new supernatural thriller due for release on Dec 16th, I’m spellbound by the cover, and I want to appreciate you all for your love and kindness. I mentioned all my awesome blogger friends on the ‘Acknowledgement section,’ of the book. The novel would be available worldwide, wherever books are sold.

My publisher is ready to release Advance Review Copies (but PDF) at this point in time. Please if you’re on Goodreads or have an amazon account, and you’re interested in reviewing this novel before the launching day, please contact me on this email address: seyisandradavid@gmail.com and I’ll respond with a digital copy.

It’s been hectic on my end (always so), I’ll be moving house in a couple of days… yes, I’m excited but scared of the mammoth work staring me in the face. After all this, I’ll go for a week’s holiday and the only thing I’ll be doing is watching films and blogging.

I love you all and hope you’ll enjoy the rest of this cold week. To my friends who are still battling with that freaky storm in the US, I wish you peace and safety.

Much love, always. 🙂

Dancing In The Wind…

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Majestic, in bloom, in glory!

Full, proud, ever-present?

Completely nonchalant,

to the groaning of the grass.

Dancing in the wind

With the brides of breeze.

Gaily, pouting, showing of!

‘How beautiful I look!’

Thought the flower.

‘And how quickly you fade…’ scoffed the grass.

‘You’re just jealous of my beauty!’ the flower screeched.

‘No, am not,’ replied the grass, ‘it’s just the law of nature.’

‘Huh!’

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

Well… flowers fades, beauty fades (in humans), and I reckon the flower in the this short poetic musing is apparently enjoying itself (?) And the grass is ‘apparently’ telling ‘it’ off. More like life, be happy for those who are happy and show compassion for the weak, that’s just my take on it.

My kids are on holiday in a few hours, a week early, their school is constructing extra classrooms due to the ever-expanding London population. I’m not dreading it, they would hopefully, help me read my mountainous manuscripts! I now have a whole month off from my grumpy editor, Barbara! (she’ll probably kill me if she reads this!)

I appreciate your friendship guys, may you find peace this weekend. Enjoy today dear friends and have a great weekend!

NP: I rarely do this but do buy a few copies of ‘Tales OF Five Lies’ if you love psychological thrillers, you can get it on this link:  http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tales-Five-Lies-Sandra-David/dp/147932132X/ref=tmm_pap_title_0  or just click on the cover on the sidebar. It’s less than a pound, and a quick summer read and if you’re in the States, it’s less than 99cents, or better still, go for the full length novel, which a reviewer  described as, ‘ a fluid and enjoyable read,’

‘The Feet Of Darkness,’ http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Feet-Of-Darkness-ebook/dp/B00BJ6LJHC/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1374233926&sr=1-1 (Amazon UK)

http://www.amazon.com/The-Feet-Of-Darkness-ebook/dp/B00BJ6LJHC (Amazon US) It’s also available on major online retailer and several brick and mortar shops!

My publisher, Arrow Gate, recently released a fantastic press release a few weeks back, you can check it and share please! http://www.prweb.com/releases/thefeetofdarkness/arrowgatepublishing/prweb10879291.htm

Much love, always.

🙂

A Coup In The White House? ( I See You…)

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Yes, Mr President,’ Obama Diary replied and sniffed, his right hand rested on the ‘Resolute desk.’ I walked into the Oval office with a limp, the west wing of the white house (had no idea what that is) was in the hands of the coup plotters. I am the director of the CIA and the information had filtered to me about the coup prior to its execution, the problem is, I couldn’t do anything to stop it, the coup plotters aren’t human, they are out of this world (aliens… machines!)

‘Mr President,’ I began and cleared my throat, ‘I know some great people, kind, loyal to our great nation..’

‘Cut to the chase woman and tell us who these men are.’

My eyebrow shot up in suppressed rage, ‘who said anything about men Mr. President?’

The President gave me a stony glare and I continued,

ReadingPleasure, she’s a blogger but one of the fiercest fighter I’d ever seen, Boomie nee Olubunmi, she’s a martial artist with a black belt for her trouble, she’ll probably write a poem to dissuade the plotters. There’s also Jueseppi B http://theobamacrat.wordpress.com/, a friend of your PA,’ and I motioned towards Obama Diary, whose dark penetrative eyes had regained some colour. To cut to the chase like you suggested, the leader of this great men and women is silentlyheardonce. She’s never been defeated before, a simple look from her and the plotters are dead metals.’

‘Bring them in,’ the President said quietly, his brown eyes had gone a shade darker. I moved towards the door and remembered another thing.

‘By the way Mr. President, the print edition of ‘The Feet Of Darkness,’ is out, there would be a party… after the plotters had been arrested of course.’

The President gave me a forced grin, he looked tired. I walked to the room where my WordPress pals are waiting. We are going to save the world! ( I meant to say, the white house of course!)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Feet-Of-Darkness-Overcome/dp/0957593007/ref=tmm_pap_title_0#_ (Amazon UK)

http://www.amazon.com/The-Feet-Of-Darkness-Overcome/dp/0957593007/ref=tmm_pap_title_0 (Amazon US)

N.P: This is just a figment of my imagination and an update on my recent post ‘I See You…’ https://seyisandradavid.org/2013/03/12/i-see-you/  It’s all fiction but the part about ‘The Feet Of Darkness’ is true. The paperback is finally out, it’s available on several online retailers and bookshops would soon be stocking it across the country. I’m working on the promos and stuff. There would be an update every now and then. Book signings are also planned in London, might have virtual book tours too, if you want me to tour your blog, do let me know by contacting me on seyisandradavid@gmail.com  (my google email is safe… and yahoo too)

Thank you friends for all your support and love, I’m grateful!

🙂 🙂

The Listener’s Dilemma.

 

George Popa!

( Photo credit: George Popa)

”I stayed true to my first love,” Hannah’s soft voice droned on and I was held spellbound by the simple life she’d lived. A life of dedication in the face of outright betrayal.

”I fell in love the first time I saw Michael,” and her face soften at the memory with traces of a smile lurking at the corner of her mouth, ”my dad worked for the KGB then, he’s now retired, he was  absolutely furious when he knew I was dating ”an alien.”

My eyebrows shot up at the ‘alien bit’ and she laughed when she saw the expression on my face.

”A nonRussian is an alien to my dad,” she explained and continued, ”when it was obvious our relationship would face outright persecutions, we fled Russian and came to London, got married and life was good. It was rosy for the first five years and then the late nights began, I tried to question his erratic behaviors but the back of his hands was my reply.

I was on the edge of my seat and Hannah’s voice was becoming strained but I said nothing still, just listened.

”The trips to Ghana was a surprise at first, and then when it continued I became worried. Money was not our problem, I would have lived in Ghana if he wanted me to but he said no. Ten years later, still no kids and we were still married. You can imagine my frustration and failure that I couldn’t give my husband what he wanted. I left everything for him, my family, my friends… everything!

There was silence, it was as if she was reliving the horror of it all. I said nothing still.

”One of his friends came to our house one summer evening, as usual, he’d travelled, and he told me Michael was celebrating his tenth year wedding anniversary, he brought the family pictures as proof and my world fell flat. Michael had five children for his other wife, he’d built his family a beautiful house in Accra! When he came back, he had the gut to call me a barren woman.”

”Where is he now?” I finally found my voice.

”He’s gone to the office and you know what?”

”What?”

”I’m pregnant, at long last… and the beatings has stopped.”

”Have you forgiven him?”

”No, but I still love him which was why I wondered at the true meaning of love. I can’t leave him…I’m forty-five years old and I’m pregnant with my first child.”

”What about his other family? That’s bigamy! Are you okay with that too?”

”We don’t discuss it.”

”Do you think about it?”

She nodded and that was it, we heard the sound of a car pulling up at the drive way, that was my cue. I stood up and Hannah gave me a bear hug then asked, ”If you were in my shoes, what would you have done?”

I couldn’t answer her question. I left her house dumbfounded and sad at the same time, no wonder the poor woman thought love was non-existent!

**********

 

That was the concluding part of ‘The Listeners,’ I hope you like it!

Thanks for reading my post, love always:)