I stretch upwards, leaning back over the highest bar of the little wooden bridge, enjoying the heat of the sunshine, the breeze on my skin. I stay there, bent half backwards with my arms over my head, enjoying the peace of the park, the ducks quacking and splashing, small children hitting each other far enough away for their raucous squeals to blend into a p...
There is no sex in this story. Thanks to the Knee Doctor for editing help. * Seems like I worked my whole life to make my wife happy and it was a waste of time. It really hurts a guy to know that all one's efforts and intentions were for nothing. After twenty-three years of marriage, I now realize that I didn't know the mother of my children. She always w...
Desperation leads to disaster. It forces you to leave the safe cocoon you have built over the years and venture out into the wild. Desperation would even make you forget—if only for a short moment—that you shouldn't expose your ugliness to the world. Desperation might also make you forget the ugliness of the world itself. Millie Foster took one look at the...
Who, what, where, when, why? Have I lost the trail again? Have I lost myself in the moment and forgotten how to breathe? How to think? How to remember? This is all I know in those panicked minutes. That they come, moments when I lose my grip and tumble, and that I have to focus, focus, focus. When I find myself in a car, in a bed, in a room, and I find nothi...
Chapter 2, Saturday I stared at the mass of congealed scrambled egg and felt my stomach turn. It was early and Richard and I had been lucky enough to get on the 7am ferry to Calais, our only penalty for being late a small surcharge. It was a beautiful day and the sun was already hot by the time we drove onto the huge cross-channel ferry, the air full of di...
After fifteen years of marriage, I had noticed a sudden decline in the frequency of sex with my wife, Lyn. This had happened over the three weeks or so. Until then, although we were conventional, it was satisfying for both of us – or so I thought. Now, it had become the usual story of “I’m so tired, I just want to go to sleep.” On the rare occasions when we...
Dolly Read held her breath as the matron zipped up the black velvet bunny costume. This was a special outfit worn only by girls who were selected to work the VIPs at the Playboy Club. It was an honor, but an uncomfortable one. Bunny costumes were extremely tight fitting and the VIP version was cut even tighter. Maybe it was worth it; looking at herself in th...
"Zeinab Al-Sharif, you do not at the present time meet the Immigration & Refugee Board's Criteria and Conditions for refugee protection, therefore, your request for political asylum has been denied," read the letter from Citizenship & Immigration Canada, and Zeinab Al-Sharif shook her head, and sighed deeply. This was the end of all hope for her. Having deni...
Hey guys, this is just something I am trying out. If you don't like first person stories you will not like this one. As always feedback is appreciated. No editor for this one if people like it I will continue with one :) ****** At what point did this all spin out of control? I know I saw this coming. At what point did I lose myself to become this person?...
Warning this story was written in England using English vocabulary, spelling and grammatical conventions. Some readers can find these disturbing. * My palms moistened, my heart began to pound. My chiming mobile was telling me that Rita's friend was actually calling to speak with me! I stabbed the buttons, clumsily. "Ms Lewis?" "Yes?" My hand was none too...