A collection of short stories and journalistic commentaries depicting my simple life
and how I fit in with the modern day universe of our times



"Wake the fuck up!" Mark yelled loudly to awaken Nate.

"Ok, dammit...." Nate replied arising from what could have been the deepest sleep of his life, a dream state where you’re almost not even asleep. You just wake up.

The two hoodlums sat up in their seats and prepared for their latest act of robbery. Sweat ran down the temple and forehead of Nate’s face. He reached under the passenger's seat remembering something his father had told him as a young boy.

"Nate, you become only what you make of yourself."

He loaded his all black 9-millimetre handgun, and slid it in the front seem of his pants. A blue sign read up ahead, 1/2 mile gas and food; next exit on the right.

"Ok, you know the plan Nate. I’m going to back into a parking space close by. You go in and ask for a pack of jacks. When he turns around, you hold that gun right in his fucking Arab face."

Mark was three years older than Nate, and as far as Mark knew, he had the whole world figured out.

"And if he plays any fucking games, let one or two of those things off over his head" Mark demanded as he turned right on to the exit road. 


It was almost 2:00 am. A summer night in July, and they were only one of the few cars on I-95. Nate could tell deep inside that something life changing would be occurring soon enough. In the back of his mind, he knew that every time he went through with this, he would be closer to death, or a life in prison. It had worked twice already this month. The first two times Joe had done the dirtiest part of the deeds. Now it was Nate’s time to blossom.

Nate had already lost everything. His father had died when he was only nine through a car accident. After that loss, his mother's personality had quickly begun to change. There was the heavy drinking, staying out late leaving Nate home alone, and regularly bringing strange men to the house; forcing Nate to hit the streets late in the night.

So Mark was looked upon as an older brother, giving him food and a place to stay whenever he couldn’t take his own household any longer. But at the same time, teaching him all about guns and drugs.

Mark turned right at a stoplight, and they could both now see the seven eleven up ahead. They pulled into the convenience store parking lot. An elderly man with a black towel wrapped around his head was standing behind the register looking out through the shop window. There were no other cars in the empty parking lot, as they pulled into a space backwards.

Mark turned to Nate with a look of approval.

"You got this one Nate; you've seen us do it twice. I’ll be right here in drive ready to gun it."

Nate nodded and got out the car. Butterflies where fluttering around in his stomach, as he opened the front doors and heard the beep of the doorway announce his entrance. Nate didn’t look at the cashier as he walked down the candy section. He calmly picked up a bag of mints and headed toward the register. As he looked up, the Arabian clerk was eye-balling Mark and the car still running, he then looked back at Nate walking up towards him.

"Hello sir and how are you tonight? Nate enquired while he placed the mints onto the counter. By now his hands were trembling and he knew the old man could see it. The clerk didn’t reply as he quickly scanned the barcode.

"Total, one twenty three," the old man said while looking back out at the car and then back at Nate.

"Oh yeah, and a packet of Newport one hundreds," Nate added as he pointed over the cashier’s shoulder to the cigarette console behind him. The clerk turned his back to reach for the smokes, and that was when Nate pulled the slick black heater out from under his hoody. He cocked it back with shaking hands and demanded the cash from the register draw.

"Give me the fucking money now you bastard!" Nate yelled as he held his pistol up.

The Arab assistant turned around slowly and walked over towards Nate. He put the cigarettes down on the counter and looked him dead in his eyes. Nate saw no fear in the old Arab's face as he held the gun close to his forehead.

"Get out, you mad fucker!" the clerk screamed as he reached under the counter and grabbed for a small gun. He lifted it to Nate’s head and Nate dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

"Get out!" the clerk screamed one last time as he loaded the twenty two and pointed down at the cowering teenager.

Then one shot went off loudly and what seemed like glass being shattered to a thousand pieces was heard around the store. Nate knew in his mind he was surely dead and gone now, parted from this hell called life, and rising onwards towards a heaven. A place where there was no hurting or pain, where people go without having to bring a single thing along with them.

A few seconds later Nate heard the entrance bleep of the doorway as Mark ran into the store. Nate reached around his body for traces of a gun wound or some sort of bleeding. There was nothing.

"Come on Nate get the fuck up now man!" Mark yelled as he pulled up Nate by the material of his hoody. Nate stood up and took in the bloody scene. The elderly man was lying behind the counter, face down with the right side of his head blown clean off. He could see the man’s brains running into a bloody puddle on the freshly waxed floor tiles. He just stood there, dumbfounded as to what had just happened. Mark was already behind the register trying to prise it open.

"Fuck Nate, I don’t know the code to use it, the asshole locked it up."

Mark turned to the dead man on the floor, and kicked him pointlessly in the stomach. He ran around the counter and hastily pushed Nate out the door without the earnings. Nate was still in shock as he opened the door of the car and hopped in.

Mark threw the twelve gauge sawn off murder weapon onto the back seat of the car and the two of them sped out of the parking lot heading back towards the highway. Nate’s entire life had just flashed before his own eyes.

"What the hell Mark? You fucking killed him, you killed him!" Nate yelled over the sound of screeching tyres.

'Yeah, well he was gonna kill you!" Mark yelled back at him with more anger.

The two of them sat there with their eyes wide open as they saw blue lights in the distance through their rear view mirrors. Nate knew it wouldn’t be long now before they would get pulled over by a million cops. He blamed Mark for everything wrong in his life at that exact moment. Then he blamed his mother. Then his father.

"We're done for Mark, and it’s all your fault. You had to go and kill him. Why?" Nate screamed with a crackly voice.

"Why you ungrateful piece of shit!"

Mark turned off to the side of the highway and slammed on his brakes.

"Get the fuck out! Now!" Mark yelled and reached over and opened Nate’s door.

Nate just sat still, not moving one bit.

"Nooo, what do I do, where do I go?" Nate was now crying an endless amount of tears.

Mark lifted his foot over the seat and kicked him four hard times with his boots before Nate fell out of the car onto the gravel. He then threw the nine millimetre and his shotgun out of the window on the ground next to Nate’s crumpled body.

"Good luck you little prick!" Mark screamed out the window while speeding back onto the highway.

Nate slowly stood up and brushed himself off. He soon noticed he wasn’t crying any more, instead he was listening. Listening hard, to an awkward and disturbing sound. It was the sound of his own voice. He had been sadistically laughing aloud into the empty air for what seemed to be an eternity. He was looking up into the night sky like he was directing it toward something or someone. He stopped laughing and caught his breath then fell to a foetal position holding his knees within his arms.

He looked up with glaring eyes and about two hundred yards in front to see rows of flashing lights coming his way. Rather than taking flight, he just lay there and thought about how he used to go fishing with his dad at weekends, and how he had taken him to go carting one time. He had so much anger built up for his father. How could he leave him to rot on this planet all alone?

Nate then had a sense of clarity, as the flashing lights came closer he stood up, walked over to the murder weapon on the ground and picked it up. He dropped hard to his knees and placed the short double barrel into his mouth. Looking up to the black night sky, he forgave his father as he pulled the trigger blowing the back of his head out of his skull. It was all over now, no more. No more pain.



"Wake the fuck up!" Mark yelled loudly to awaken Nate.

"Ok, dammit...." Nate replied arising from what could have been the deepest sleep of his life, a dream state where you’re almost not even asleep. You just wake up.

"Pull over now Mark!" Nate yelled in a cold pouring sweat. He was soaked in the coldest realisation of his life, and he wanted out.

Mark pulled the car to the side of the road where he had previously dropped Nate off before in his dream.

"Good luck you little prick!" mark screamed out the window while speeding onto the highway for a second time.

Nate couldn’t have made a clearer decision if his life had depended on it. Except for that one single thought of forgiveness. And from that moment on he just knew that life would be good to him.






FORGIVE ME FATHER, FOR I WON'T SINSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Well other than the plastering, work on the flat has pretty much ground to a halt at present, but that doesn't mean to say that the old tools have been left to go rusty. I had another opportunity to go out and break into a sweat this week. Yes it was another bathroom.

DAY ONE:
Like any other day one this involved getting a general feel for the place and a huge ripping out process. First to go was the carpet, the water was isolated, the pottery removed and the tiles stripped from the walls.










DAY TWO:
More blooming plastering. Fortunately though, this was a second bathroom so it gave the opportunity for a straight run at things without the need for ensuring the maintenance of services. First off though I had to level off the walls with a base coat of bonding plaster. On top of that, because this bathroom was to be only half tiled, the upper half of the walls required a skim coat to a polished finish.






DAY THREE:
Todays first task would be to go under the floor and re-route the piping to supply the new layout. After that I could start to get the new suite into position.





Then with the walls near enough dry from the earlier plastering, it was also time to begin tiling. Like I said earlier this was only to be half way up the walls and not even all walls were to be tiled. Only those surrounding the suite.



Apologies for the lighting by the way, but that's probably why I'm not a photographer.






DAY FOUR:
With the tiling all completed, all that was left was the grouting. And then I could commence fitting the suite.




Holes were drilled through the wall for all the wastes and the pre-positioned piping was connected to the appliances.


And then there was the shower to build up too, along with the heated towel rail.



Note: The cable seen here was to earth bond the towel rail, an important and necessary step in a bathroom.





Time for the shower screen, loo seat and accessories, colour coordinated waste pipes and bath panel and we were nearly there.












DAY FIVE:
With the inside work all completed now and ready for decorators and carpet fitters to come in and work their magic, all I had to do was the final waste connections to the outside of the property and that was another PadPimpers project successfully completed.



Another bathroom installationSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend



"I am home." She told Simon on the phone as she entered the building. And he believed her. She just smiled to herself, knowing that she was entering someone else's apartment.

Jennifer told him she needed a bath and ended the call as she knocked on the door. Russell opened the door and smiled at her asking her to come in. She told him she needed a quick bath and proceeded to the bathroom to take one. After the hot steamy shower, she redialled a set of numbers, "Simon, I just got out of the shower. I'm gonna need a nap now. I love you. Goodnight." And again, he believed her and told her he loved her too.

There was a hint of guilt within, that little voice that kept saying she was not supposed to be doing this. But as she looked at the mirror and Russell behind her wrapping his arms around her, she flashed back on the night that she had found out Simon had cheated on her with a friend, and that little voice just shut its mouth and let her continue with what she’d started.

She looked at Russell from the mirror and he knew what he was to do next. He unwrapped her towel and let it fall to the floor as he took on the naked image of her. Her supple and plump breasts with nipples so erect, he said he wanted to start nibbling on them. His gaze fell down to her waist and then lower to that spot he had been more than willing to wait for.

Jennifer turned towards him and she saw that his eyes were still on the mirror checking out her behind and she smiled to herself knowing that she still had what it takes to do any angle. 

He cupped one breast and she licked his lips. And he carried her to the bed. His throbbing cock was turning her on and she felt herself getting wetter by the second. She was too excited for him to get inside her but she stopped herself, thinking that if she was going to do this, then she should do it perfectly.

As he laid her onto the bed she looked into his eyes and wrapped her hands around his dick. He moaned as he started licking her neck. As his lips went lower, he groped on both of her breasts and with this tongue, teeth and lips he ravaged them like there was no tomorrow. It hurt a little, but it was an ecstasy-filled pain and she savoured that moment. She gave out moans and short screams of delight and her hips started moving toward his swollen organ. His cock's tip touched the opening of her womanhood and he gave out a sound when he felt the oozing wetness. 

Without warning he plunged his whole shaft into her hungry pussy and her nails dug into his back. It was delicious. She urged him to go deeper, to go faster and she was in pure ecstasy. Gone were all the thoughts of vengeance, vanished had the thoughts of anger. Jennifer was somehow freed from everything she’d gone there for. 

And as she climbed that mountain of sweet love making, she let out a sound of pleasure as she plunged down into the depths of delicious orgasmic Eden. And as he reached his own brand of climax, he let out his seed onto her face and it trickled down her neck and over her breasts. Jennifer fingered it up and licked the creamy goodness off of her tits. She loved the taste of him.

Then he tried to kiss her lips but she quickly turned away. The sex was great, but kisses are made because of love she thought. And so she stood up from the bed and carried her naked body back to the bathroom where she began to put on her clothes again. When she stepped out of the room he was already asleep and she quietly left, thinking to herself that it was all done; just to make an even playing field.

And as she entered her own flat, Jennifer took out her phone and found a single message from Simon:

"Babe, I know I told you this morning that I slept with another girl and I know it must’ve really hurt you. I just want you to know that I lied, it was just my dumb ass idea of April Fools! I need you to know that I love you far too much to be with any other." Sent: 11:59 PM 01-April-2011.

That text was three days old now, how could she have possibly missed it?






IS VENGEANCE SWEET?SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend





He walked down 40th with a quickened pace, slouched low, avoiding the friendly faces that usually greeted him on the walk home. The sky was dark, save for the blood red remnants of the day's sun. The boiling heat of the summer day was replaced with the dead calm of night. A few people said hello, but he pretended not to hear. He was afraid to talk to them. Afraid of what he might say. He couldn't tell anyone. Not anyone. Only he and Charlie would ever know what he had done.


The buildings knew too. He didn't want to notice, but they just stood there in knowing silence, ready to come down upon him in punishment. He was afraid of everything. He just wanted to get home and speak to Charlie. Charlie would make it O.K. Charlie would fix everything.

As he approached the apartment building, he heard footsteps behind him. He froze. They knew. Everyone knew. Everyone knew and they would be after him. He ran now, for it wouldn't be long. He ran up all 15 flights of stairs and was ready to collapse as he reached the door. He was finally home, though, and he could talk to Charlie and everything would be fine. Charlie was his best friend. Charlie would never lie to him; Charlie would never let him get hurt.

He went in, locked, bolted, and chained the door. Then he sank deep into the only chair in the room. He kept the lights off. Charlie liked the dark best. He had gotten used to it and didn't mind all that much anymore. He spent most of his time talking to Charlie anyway.

As the last rays of the dying sun crept through the slats in the window blinds, he studied the room. The paint was chipped and faded, and the wall had a large water stain from when the pipes burst last winter. A cockroach scurried behind the refrigerator as the last light left the room. This night the sky would remain dark as the moon had reached the end of its cycle and was dead with the sun.

"Why don't I sleep anymore?" he asked Charlie.

"You think too much. You never let your mind rest."

"I did something bad today, at least, I think I did."

"Why do you still go out there, Nathan?"

"I like the people. Well, I like most of the people."

"And therein lies the problem. You don't like them all, and no good ever comes from that."

"But it's not my fault. Usually I just."

"You just think about it. You just imagine, don't you?"

"I'm hungry."

"We're not done talking yet. Do you remember Chicago?"

"A little"

"Oh, I think you remember a lot, a whole lot."

"I didn't know Charlie, I didn't know."

"Whether you knew or not, you're the reason we're hiding out in this crappy apartment and whenever you go outside, you risk getting caught! And now you go and do something else!"

"But Charlie, I didn't know! I couldn't help it!"

"Yes you could! You could have stayed inside like I told you to!"

"But Charlie, it, it's no fun up here."

"Well, it won't be much more fun in jail, will it?!"

"I didn't go to jail before."

"That's because nobody saw you thank God. And the only reason he didn't tell the cops is because he's in a coma!"

"But why did we have to leave, then?"

"There's no way you forgot that. Your "thoughts" got you into more trouble than I ever thought possible."

"The woman?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, Nathan. The woman."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You never do."

"I just thought."

"I know, Nathan, but that won’t get you anywhere with the cops."

"But I didn't, I don't want to go to jail, Charlie."

"It's not up to me, Nathan."

Sirens echoed through the city, closing in on the apartment.

"Charlie! Charlie what should I do?"

"I told you to stay inside. You didn't listen, and now look what happened. I can't help you anymore."

"But Charlie, I didn't know!"

"That doesn't matter."

The door burst open and light flooded the room.

"Freeze, put your hands where we can see them!" The cop's voice rang through the apartment.

"Charlie, help!"

They cuffed him and took him down to the patrol car.

"Charlie, don't let them! Make it stop!"

"Shut up and get in the car kid" said the cop.

They took him downtown and threw him into a cell.

"Charlie? Are you there?”

"Yes Nathan, I'm here."

"I'm scared."

"You should be" spoke another strange voice.

"No. I don't want to talk to you Sam."

"You don't have a choice."

"Charlie, make him stop."

"No. You brought us here with you."

"Charlie, stop it."

"Talk to Sam for a while. He makes an interesting point."

"You should end it here, Nathan."

"I, I don't like you."

"You don't like a lot of people. Isn't that right?"

"Shut up!"

"You've done bad things. They'll put you in here for life and you'll never leave. You'll never be free."

"That's not true! Charlie?"

"I'm afraid he's right."

"Stop it! I don't want to be here! Make it stop, Charlie!"

"I can't do that, Nathan. Only you can do that."

"I'm scared to."

"Do it" Sam spoke again, "Do it before they hurt you anymore."

"I want my mother."

"You're mother isn't here anymore. You know she can't do anything. Now get this over with."

"Shut up. You're lying."

"Do it already!"

"I'm afraid."

"I know, Nathan. Let's do it quickly. It will all be over soon."

The next morning, an officer headed to Nathan's cell to escort him to the interrogation room.

"Oh my god!"

His cell was cleaned out quickly and silently. And it was the officer that found him who spoke first.

"Why'd he do it?"

"Guilt, most likely; I mean, have you seen the crime scene photos? I wouldn't be able to live with myself either if I had done something like that. He was one sick freak."






VOICESSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend



Tonight’s story has been cobbled together especially with Steph in mind. This is because a couple of times now she has asked for happier endings to what I write. So with that in mind, here goes:

Harold, a sprightly 95 year old man was living in a care home for the elderly. And every night he goes to a secluded part of the home’s gardens to sit and ponder all his accomplishments and long life.

One evening, Mildred, another of the home inmates, wanders into the same area as Harold. They begin to chat and before they know it, several hours had passed them by as they were reliving their lives between them.

After a short while Harold looks at the 87 year old Mildred and says, “It’s a funny old thing this ageing lark, but do you know the one thing I miss most of all?”

“What would that be then Harold?” she asks him.

“Believe it or not, sex”, he replies.

“Why you dirty old fart Harold”, Mildred exclaims, “I bet you couldn’t get it up anyway. Not even if I held a gun to your head!”

“Oh I realise that,” replies Harold, “But it would be nice if a woman could just hold it for a while, you know, for old time’s sake.”

“Ah you poor, poor man, let me oblige,” says Mildred as she unzips his trousers, removes his manhood and rolls it between her fingers.

As was to be expected, there was little change to the status quo, but the couple sat together for another hour or so.

After the evening sun began to drop, the couple arranged to secretly meet again every night after dinner, where they would sit and talk and Mildred would take hold of Harold’s manhood. They did this fifteen nights without fail, and then the story turned.

You see on the sixteenth night, Harold didn’t show up at their usual meeting place. Alarmed at this, Mildred decided to go look for him and make sure he was alright. She walked all the way round the care home, checking all the rooms as she passed them but there was no sign of Harold.

Eventually, while checking round the gardens a second time, she found Harold sitting by the pool with an 84 year old woman called Evelyn. She was another of the care home inmates and she too was talking to Harold while holding his manhood.

Furiously Mildred yelled over at the two of them, “How could you? You two timing old bastard! What does she, that tart have, that I don’t?”

Looking down at Evelyn’s violently shaking hand, Harold could only tell Mildred the truth.

“Parkinson’s.” He replied as his eyes began to glaze over.






TILL DEATH DO US PARTSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

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Its my own fault really, its all about what I see in the world, and how it all translates for me.

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