Life is what you make it, make your luck, destiny is in your own hands. Prologue I might as well own up right at the front of our short-term hopefully intimate but rather one-sided relationship between you the reader and myself: I'm an arsehole, no, let's be brutally frank with you, I am one dumb stupid arsehole. And an unlucky one at that. I never knew h...
Backroads or: On Being Blown Sideways Down the Road Less Traveled There's something peculiarly energizing about a road trip, even if, as is so often the case, it's a journey to nowhere in particular. Even if you've been down the same road a hundred times before, there's always the hint of something new in the air, some new adventure at hand right around t...
Chapter 8 – Houston, We Have Lift Off The following week Ginger had to be in Chicago area to see one of her clients. She was away two nights, and our daughter took it upon herself to be my consort both nights, although she wasn't the only one. We sexted pictures to Ginger – usually erotic and sexy but with us making funny faces to keep it light. They were a...
Chapter 14 Two months after Lola began assisting Ned on upgrading Wave Tosser, Auckland Council, the controlling territorial authority for the Auckland Region that included Waiheke Island, approved the subdivision of 6 ha (15 acres) from the Hills' farm for primary use as a vineyard. Lola was hugely excited when reading that notification, knowing that deci...
~New Mexico, 1870's~ Chapter 1: A Stranger Rides In A dead Indian hung from the limb of a cottonwood over a dry creek bed. There was a flurry of large wings as a rider slowly approached, and reddish-colored hawks lifted their engorged bodies sluggishly into the air with a chorus of kreeing sounds and began to circle leisurely overhead. John Green clicked...
The Subject 2: Further Research Chapter One Prologue The young scientist, her eyes intently staring into the miasma of numbers flashing across the screen before her, sighed dejectedly. Why wasn't the damnable thing working? She thought, and ran her hands through her dark brown hair. "Rita," she said, not looking up from the computer read-out, "run serie...
The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 05: Paul & Jenny's Caribbean Cruise I sat looking out of the window as the December evening closed in. A fine grey drizzle was falling. Jenny would be home soon from University. She had my car, as I was not allowed to drive yet. I wished I had an automatic gear change on my car. My Grandparents, with whom I was staying, were ou...
Prologue. Late Summer 1943 – Suffolk, England. Katie opened the front door and froze. A grim faced postman stood on the doorstep with an ominous looking telegram in his hand. He silently handed it to her, and Katie shut the door before he had a chance to offer her his sympathy. She had been expecting this, she had not heard from Stephen for many months, sh...
Passegiatta I have no words -- alas!-- to tell, the loveliness of loving well! Poe, Tamerlane [Log entry of the SailingVessel Springer: 31 October, 0920 hrs local time. COG: at anchor; SOG: 0.0 kts; Temp: 41˚ f; Winds: NE at 12 knots, viz +3 NMI; Barometer 29.91 steady since 2300 hrs last night; GPS: 44°18'11.36"N by 9°12'35.24"E. Just anchored in...
The laughter filled the darkened street as the children ran up and down the laneways to each home. The air was crisp and clean, the perfect October evening. It had snowed just two days ago and some lawns still had white patches of the cold miserable fluff. Parents laughed and smiled, watching their children gleefully run up to a house to say the expected wor...