Friday 21 December 2012

The Book Of Life

    Every year at this time I invest in a new diary. Without seeming ungrateful of the ones I receive as gifts at Christmas time, they just never seem to quite fit the  bill. They're always either too small, or too large. I think because of the intimate recordings it's something I have to choose for myself.

    Now I love to sit down, as I did yesterday afternoon and go through my old one. Firstly I transfer any dates that I daren't forget, such as birthdays of family and friends. But more importantly I love to read through my goals and ambitions that I had written down at the end of the previous year. If I failed on any of those I set out, I try and work out why. Of course sometimes this isn't possible as some may have been slightly over ambitious.

    Each day has a different story to tell. There may have been family, or work concerns and as the year progresses your life unfolds in front of you. Sometimes I find myself so embroiled in situations that I don't even remember as to how it all panned out and the diary serves as a great reminder.

    So as today is suppose to be the day that the world ends I'm wondering to myself as to whether I wasted my time transferring dates, and setting goals for 2013. The big question though, is will there be a book of my life to review next year?

    Hope I see you guys on Monday, when I'll be posting my next blog, and if not it was nice knowing you.

 

Sunday 16 December 2012

To Know Them Is To Be Blessed

    Following the passing of a loved one, there will be occasions that will trigger our memories of them. Stirring emotions that we thought we had managed to put to rest.

    Whether it be a holiday time, a social gathering, a piece of music on the radio, or just a word we overhear someone else say, the departed will be back to the forefront of our mind.

    Death leaves a void in the lives it leaves behind, a void that  will never be filled again. But, however briefly we have known our family member, or good friend, our lives have been touched and blessed by just knowing them. God bless.

Friday 14 December 2012

My Little Black Book

    One thing I love about going on vacation, or even staying away from home on business is that it gives you time to people watch. I love nothing better than sitting at a table in a pavement cafe, or hotel dining room and watching the people around me.

    Fortunately for me, my partner likes to do the same. But what we get out of the whole experience is something very different. For my partner it's a signal that he can leave the stresses and strains of his job behind. No reports to write, no staffing problems to think about and no disgruntled clients to handle.

    I use this time as an opportunity to find ideas for my future protagonists, love interests and villains. Now initially I have no real idea who is going to be who in my projects, or if I will ever use them. But I take note of mannerisms, their style of clothing, the tone of their voice when interacting with others, whether the same, or opposite sex. I just love the whole people watching thing.

    So beware if your in a hotel, or cafe and you see a woman taking more than a little interest in you, it may be that you're down in my little black book.

    Do you do this, or something different? Please share your secret.

    

   

Tuesday 11 December 2012

I'm Back


Mount Teide Highest Point in Spain
    If you're a regular visitor to my blog, thanks for sticking around whilst I took a break from online activity for two weeks. To my new visitors a big 'Hello', I'm glad you decided to stop by.

    Where have I been the last couple of weeks? The Canary Islands, Spain, 65  miles off the African west coast.

     What have I been doing? Firstly: escaping from the not so nice British weather, which is minus 3 degrees today. Secondly and most importantly : taking time to concentrate on a couple of new projects.

Amarilla Bay
     Whilst I was basking in the warm Canarian, winter sunshine and listening to my MP3, my little brain was working overtime. Several pens ran dry of ink and notepads were filled with hopefully worthwhile notes and ideas.

    Its a trip I make several times a year, finances permitting. The novelty for me is that I'm writing the draft of this post 37,000 feet in the air; looking down into the blue sea below with the coast of Madeira on my left. I would also like to add that I'm in an aeroplane.

    A recent announcement made by a member of the cabin crew,  caused a wry smile to cross my lips. She informed me and my fellow travellers that the lights in the cabin were about to be dimmed. Now I didn't smirk because of the dimming of the lights, but because she added, 'If any of you want to carry on doing an old fashioned thing like reading a book, you can use the light that can be found in the overhead panel." Maybe you would have to be here to see the funny side!

Paella
    So, I'm back and I thought I would share a couple of pictures with you of the country I've grown to love. Not forgetting the food. Oh, and my blog will be updated Mondays and Fridays. I'll see you again Friday then. Hasta luego!



 

 
   

   

   

Sunday 25 November 2012

Blog Holiday

    I'm having a short break from this blog for a couple of weeks due to work commitments. Meanwhile if this is your first visit please check archive material, which includes a short story over three parts.
   Next post will be on the December 11th 2012. Hope to see you all then.

Thursday 22 November 2012

The Journey of Regret (Part 3)







Part 3 of 3  (Final)


    I feel a piercing pain in the side of my skull and I explore my right temple with my fingertips. I wince, I've found a bleeding head wound. My blood moistens my fingers and it runs down my face. I can taste the saltiness of it, as it trickles onto my lips and into my mouth. I sit still and try to orientate myself with my surroundings, but the situation I find myself in seems somewhat surreal.

    "Jemma follow me. I will take you to safety," says a woman. I'm unable to see her because of the strong light that is now shining in my face.
    Thank goodness, I feel relieved that a rescue party has arrived.  I can hear the voice of the woman clearly persuading me to follow her. I shakily get to my feet and I clamber into the aisle. I hesitate, I've remembered that my carryall is on the seat to the inside of me. I reach in and I brush my hand across the sticky, velvety pile of the upholstery. But the bag is no longer there, it must have fallen onto the floor. How on earth am I going to find it in this darkness? I sigh, there is no point in me fumbling around to try to locate it.

    The female voice continues to encourage me on, but the light is moving away from me and I have to follow. I take a step and I stumble over something. I bend down and tug at what is some kind of bag, hopefully I've found my carryall. But the item is too small to be mine, I think it may be a briefcase, or a laptop. I push the
bag aside to clear my path and it moves away from me at speed. I hear it coming to a thudding halt somewhere up ahead. 

    I can only assume that the train has been derailed, because the carriage is slightly tilted over to one side and I proceed with difficulty. I grab hold of the backs of the seats to steady myself and I follow the guiding light. I pass by my fellow passengers, some groan loudly and others cry for help. I can't understand why they don't follow the rescuer. 

    Although it seems to have taken forever, I've reached the end of the carriage and to an exit. I stop at the open doorway and look up into the cloudless December sky. The cold air blasts my face, making my cheeks go numb. I take a deep breath, a strong smell of diesel oil fills my nostrils and lungs. A multitude of twinkling stars and a full moon light up the night sky, but they fail to illuminate my surroundings. I can't see anything but the woman's light.

    Jumping down onto the track, I drop to my knees. Sharp stone chippings dig into my flesh, causing me to flinch.
    "Jemma, follow me. I will take you to safety," the woman's voice beckons.
    "Please help me," I plead. I'm still on the ground, but my plea is ignored. I lurch to my feet; the light of the rescuer is advancing and is now some distance ahead. I must gather my strength and go after her.

    I walk unsteadily along the track, my feet slide on the hard-core rock that lies between the rails. I  stagger and I nearly lose my balance. I can hear muffled voices, but they're nowhere near me. I can hear sirens, but they're in the distance. The cold bites through my whole body; I start to shake and my teeth are chattering. I have no other option but to keep following the light. With great difficulty I stifle my sobs, I feel so desperately alone and very scared.

    The light is becoming bigger and brighter, I must be nearing safety at last. My legs are weary, I'm struggling to put one foot in front of the other. My head throbs, my body aches and I want to lie down. I daren't though, because the light is within reach.

    I exhale a sigh of relief, I've reached the light and I’m now bathed in it. Its whiteness burns deep into my eyes. I try to shield them with my hand in an effort to see, but to no avail.
     "You are safe. Your pain will ease. Your wounds will heal. We will take care of you now,” says the woman.

     I drop my arm away from my face; the light no longer hurts my eyes and I can feel it penetrate deep down into my body, into my soul. I try to turn around, but I can't. It's as though I've been cemented to the spot. I turn my head and glance behind me; but there is nothing to see, only the white light.
     "I want to go back,” I beg.
     "I know Jemma, I know. But now you can only look back, because for you there is no going back. You are with us now,” the woman says.






BREAKING NEWS


    The 8:00 P.M passenger train to Brighton from Victoria Station, London was derailed at 8:20 P.M yesterday evening. At present the cause is unknown, but accident investigators are on the scene.  

    Several passengers are known to be severely injured and there is one reported fatality. The deceased is believed to be 17-year-old Jemma Anders,who was said to be returning home after visiting some friends in London. Although badly injured, Miss Anders is thought to have wandered from the train following the derailment,in search for help.

    An Emergency Service spokesperson, told reporters that a rescue worker had gone to investigate, what he thought was someone waving a flashlight some distance away from the wreckage.But unfortunately he came across the body of the deceased. It is likely she died because of head injuries. A full postmortem will follow.

    Relatives, family and friends have been informed.

THE END

Sunday 18 November 2012

The Journey of Regret (Part 2)

       
Part 2 of 3


    However, after two days, I was struggling with the whole living away from home thing. Sneaking into shopping mall restrooms to wash before going for an interview and drying my hair under the hand-dryer. I found it all more than a little alien and I didn't get the jobs either. The most distressing thing for me though, was that I was really missing my mom. I was yearning to hear her voice, feel her arms wrap around me, and giving me a big hug.

     I managed to stick it out for another five days and now I'm on the train, going home. I'm feeling relaxed and I'm now thinking about things constructively, rather than destructively. I managed to make a call to my mom before the train left, from a payphone. I told her I was on my way back; there were lots of tears, but she's forgiven me for my unreasonable behavior. So much so, that she's making my favorite supper tonight. She's a great cook, and I love her chili beef and garlic bread. My stomach's rumbling just thinking about it.

     It's 8.00 PM and the carriage is empty. The other occupants are all seated quite a number of rows away, so there's no one to disturb me with their coughing, sneezing, snoring, or any other bodily function that takes their fancy.

     Suddenly I feel overwhelmed and here was me telling you that I was thinking constructively. Okay I lied; I was just putting on a brave face.

     Deep breathe; I’m putting my negative thoughts in a box and into temporary storage, in a dark corner of my brain. My mind goes blank, I now only hear the noise of the carriage wheels as they roll along the steel track and a state of calmness engulfs my whole being. I close my eyes in the hope that I may be able to drift off to sleep, the state of slumber being something that hasn't been easy to do the last week. The thought of a rat nibbling my toes, or someone stealing what little money I had, kept the adrenalin pumping and the sleep at bay. 

   
    OMG, I've been awakened by a sudden jolt and the carriage is in darkness. I hear some of my fellow passengers moaning and there's noise of general chaos echoing all around me.