The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

rules of play
00:18 Sep 28 2008
Times Read: 1,079




I hate motorists. It’s a strong word to use, but it’s applicable. It’s the bellicose manner of them: as they drive those one ton killing machines, seemingly unaware of anyone else that may be around them.

Call me a tad jaundiced if you will, but I’m in my mid-forties and I’ve seen too many of them get away with what amounts to murder, with a paltry fine and a slap on the wrist, if and when they arrive in court.

And, though hate ill-mannered motorists, there’s one thing I hate more; and, that’s a motorist who uses a mobile phone whilst they’re driving.

I hate them that much, that I’ve developed a game to play with them, that doesn’t go down too well, with those I’ve played it with.

And, that brings me to this and an example of my ‘rules of play.’

I’d been on the way to the shops, on a grey day, which promised more to follow.

I wore a thin, thigh length, mock leather coat, collar turned up, of course.

I’d already cleaned my John Lennon Style glasses twice, due to the moist air.

It’d been as I replaced them, the third time, after cleaning, I had noticed the dark blue Golf gti pass me, at speed. He’d been on his mobile, right elbow on the sill as he steered.

Incredulous, I’d turned on my heels, in a full hundred and eighty degrees, to watch as it receded into the distance. It’d been then that I had so often in the past.

As I stared, I mouthed it’s plate letters and numbers, as I’d rooted in my inside pocket, to produce a no-existent pad and pen.

Then I’d made as though I were writing the registration plate number down, prior to putting the pad back in my pocket.

Now, though I’m not, I’m told I dress like a bizzy and my actions were geared to ensure an observant motorist who might look in his, or her mirror, will see me doing what I had.

And it sometimes tickles me what happens next.

Sometimes you’ll see, someone glances in his or her mirror, see what you’re doing and swerve; or they may even throw their phone to the floor.

Either way, it amuses me, for a moment or so: as they drive away in their one-ton killing machines.

Longbar
14:04 Sep 19 2008
Times Read: 1,098

Contains some adult themes.



Longbar









The bar was almost empty; I noticed that – yet, he wanted to sit near me.

And I’d liked that…

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

“So what are you writing?” He’d queried, suddenly showing interest.

“Just thought’s,” I’d replied, without looking up.

“Nothing really, I guess,” I’d added, after a brief pause, as I’d really no desire to tell him of my musings.

I’d been writing of Dave, whilst he was there at the office, changing the water cooler.

I’d been telling my notebook how I’d felt, much as if it were my confidante.

And I’d needed one ~ after all, I’d had thoughts, even the off fantasy, about someone, a man, who looked as good as Dave.

It was these thoughts that had distracted me, as the young man had spoken to me.

Yet, I drew myself out of my daydreaming, as he leaned across the table and placed his left hand on my right knee saying, “I’m sorry, I never introduced myself, did I?”

I’d been about to say something quite stupid, I’m sure.

Yet, hardly without taking a breath, he told me, “I’m Jeff. And I don’t normally chat people up like this. But… well, you looked a little lost… and we all like a bit of company at times, don’t we?”

Having said what he had, Jeff sat back, blushing and breathing heavily.

All around us there was the normal buzz you’d associate with a successful bar.

At our table there was quiet, as I absorbed what he’d said; as he sat waiting expectantly, for me to say something, anything.

But, what was there to say? I couldn’t think of anything.

“Have I said too much?” He asked me.

All I could do was smile – before finally replying.

“Oh no,” I said, looking to my empty glass and wishing it were full again, “you haven’t said too much at all.”

As if to emphasis my words, I lightly placed my right hand on his, as it rested on my knee and he grinned broadly.

“Your glass needs refilling,” he said, picking up both our glasses.

“What are you having?” Jeff asked as he stood.

“Bitter,” I replied.

“Okay, I’ll get them in. Okay?”

“Yes, sure. Thanks.” I felt embarrassed. It seemed obvious to me that Jeff knew how I felt. And, after what seemed like forever, when he returns with our drinks, I can’t help but feel that Jeff can’t hear my heartbeat, which sounds loud and fast, to my ears.

And, when he sits, it is closer than he had earlier, with his hand back on my knee.

I quickly look around, then turn back to Jeff as I tell him in a hushed voice, “I’m pleased that you came over.”

“I’m pleased you can say that… he says to me and then adds, “My friends at the bar…” he indicated the two men sitting on tall stools, at our end of the longbar, in their fifties to early sixties both wearing loud colours and a lot of gold, “the two old queens at the bar? They said you looked scared and bet me you’d do a runner.”

“What did you say to that?” I asked, my curiosity enough for several cats.

“I told them that when I go to the gents for a piss, I’ll ask you to join me.”

“And what did they say to that?” I had to ask. I just had to.

“Well, put it this way,” he began, , with a broad smile on his face, “put it this face, if we leave together, I get twenty pound, next time I come in. Ten pound of each of them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he finished.

And once more there is silence until he says to me, “Well, I figure I need to siphon the python before I drink anymore. Are you coming?”

The Fool and the Confidence Course
22:57 Sep 18 2008
Times Read: 1,099




His friends had been in when he’d called to visit; and the coffee had been of the finest blend. The afternoon had passed pleasantly enough, with music played loudly, on the perfect sound system available, ‘at the price.’ The company had been good and the smoke had added to the afternoon’s pleasure. Yet all too soon, it was time to go.

Then it was off to class: Confidence and Assertiveness, a twelve-week course.

Introducing himself and learning he was well-early a classroom was shown where he could sit.

The class was needed, he felt; doodling away with a pen: a failed relationship and a recent job loss had him knocked for six.

The classroom door opened. The next moment a woman walked in, armful of papers: the tutor. Not only did he know her from a previous course, where they’d both been students; but, hers would have been one of the last faces he would’ve expected.

Then, just a few moments later the door had opened again and she dad breezed into his life, as she opened the door, not like a zephr breeze, but more a minor tornado.

Leather jacket, coal-black jeans, and mirrored shades, she’d swept a slight hand through wavy shoulder-length brown hair, as she surveyed the room warily.

It had been at that moment he recalled that first moment he saw her, at the usual stop where he got off his bus.

She was standing with several others, talking across a bin to a schoolgirl.

A large bright puffa-jacket, big belt-buckle, D.M. boots and the pink mobile phone at the belt all caught his eye.

He noticed too, that next to the phone there was a black box, a panic alarm.

Scary lady, he’d thought: little knowing. ‘Pretty though’, he considered, turning to look at the bus timetable.

Then she walked into the classroom, the whirlwind that had moments when she was quiet and small, so that he felt that urge, to well, protect.

That evening he’d enjoyed a drink.

Yet, while he drank, listening to the live band – He had seen much. More than he wanted to know. He had seen all there was and would be, with the inclusion of her special friend.

It seemed wrong to him, that the girl, mildly autistic, should have someone around her, so in control, while he is the manager of a home for the autistic.

That evening he had drunk, rather too many glasses of whiskey.

Later, he had read the Tarot, the first time in many years… because of her.

The Tower, The Fool, and The Lovers, again and again: ‘just what did it mean?’

Rain – Blood Hunter
00:31 Sep 18 2008
Times Read: 1,103

An Adult-orientated story.







Rain – Blood Hunter



Introduction:



Sitting on the end of the black leather doctor’s couch, the rubenesque brunette swung her legs gently, ankles crossed.

Her clasped hands rested in her lap and her eyes darted back and forth.

Although she hated the green gown that fastened at the back, it was standard, unlike the treatment she had received in the last hour or so.

The gaunt doctor, with thinning grey hair swept back from his high forehead, wearing the white coat stood up from his seat and began pacing his office, hands clasped behind his desk.

He eschewed the computer, in favour of the pen and her manila folder was two centimetres deep already.

And, although the cramps were worse, she couldn’t help but smile a little as she watched him pace the carpeted area of his office.

The fellow as pale, his tie, just a little bit tight against his Adams apple, which bobbed up and down a lot, as he swallowed an excess of saliva.

She could see the sweat droplets form on his furrowed brow, just before he spoke.

“Miss, since you came to see me, I have taken many tests, but it’s your bloods that confuse me…” Nasin swept an arthritic hand, mottled with age, upward through his hair.

In all his years in general practice, the man had never seen results like hers.

And, his confusion had grown exponentially, with each of the woman’s visits to his small office, which had brought his to this day, which had supposed to bring him he answers he sought.

But, the results had provided more questions than answers.

Nina Brecker looked up from her hands and towards the elderly man.

“Why?” She asked simply.

“You’re displaying all the signs of anaemia. You haven’t eaten since the attack, yet you’re comparatively healthy,” he explained, as he continued to slowly walk from one end of the carpet to the other.

“Comparatively?” she queried, with a twinkle in her eyes.

Conrad Nasin spotted the amusement. It puzzled him further.

He stopped still, looked directly into her eyes..

“Well…” he paused, seeking the right words; “It’s as though your immune system is fighting back against something with is, eating away at your healthy blood cells.”

“And that means?”

“Miss, I cannot presume to make a guess. This sort of thing is unheard of…”

‘Thinking on it,’ one could say, ‘she had developed a natural immunity that saved her, yet changed her; rare, but like a blood-disorder can be carried, yet not passed on.’

Nasin was bemused and the furrows in his brow deepened somewhat.

Abruptly she was overwhelmed by the constant cramps she had been enduring, for well of two weeks now.

Nina leant forward, grasping her knees, groaning.

The pain was becoming unbearable, she felt as though she was being sick: yet there was nothing left inside. ‘How could she feel this sick?’ She mused.

Nasin stepped forward, placing a hand on her back.

“There there…” He said and wanted to say, ‘it will be alright.’ But how could he?

Doctor Conran Nasin was stymied. Never in all his years had he encountered a case like this. But, here she was, in his office.

He stroked his patients back, making ‘ahhh’ sounds, still seeking to reassure her, as Nina’s head slowly turned; and she faced him, with blazing eyes…



Part One



Nina woke up in the middle of the night, with the urge. She knew what she wanted, but couldn’t stop the need just with animal blood or birds'. She wanted human blood...

She got up and dressed and went out, recalling as she strode the streets how she had felt after her first kill; the guilt had consumed her, which is why she had chosen to drink of anything, but man.

But, that was then. And tonight she was who she had reborn to be.

And, she allowed a smile to cross her face, as thoughts of that first kill came back to her in a waking dream, as she remembered how the cramps had ended, as the doctor’s blood had slaked the Need.

But, the blood, the way it had fountained upward out from his neck, that is what give her the name she had taken and still used now. Granted, it had confused the girls in the office, but that couldn’t be helped now could it?

‘After all,’ she thought, ‘how can I return to who I was now?’



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

She left home, dressed in leather, as she liked...

she knew exactly where to go, at that time... there was just one place to go.

She walked down the streets and around the corner; there it was... the Goth bar her friends had talked to her about...

The red-ish light invited her to enter... people dancing everywhere, and the music so loud... she walked to the dance floor and started to move... she knew she was sexy and her body was the centre of all looks... male and female... her eyes closed, feeling the music and moving to the rhythm... soon she felt her presence... a beautiful blonde was dancing beside her, rubbing her body against hers...

The blonde just smiled at her and leaned forward to kiss Nina... soon their bodies were so close that Nina couldn’t resist... and started licking the girl’s neck, making her moan in pleasure... The blonde took Nina’s hand and took her to a corner... a dark corner... "I’m Tessa" she said, kissing Nina senseless again...

Tessa unbuttoned her tee-shirt, showing her gorgeous breasts...Nina was absolutely out of control with her perfume... her soft skin... the making out session lasted a couple of hours... then Nina took Tessa’s hand and both walked away...

"Where are you taking me?" the blonde asked her... Nina grinned and looked at her with lustful eyes... Every erogenous zone was burning, with the need to be satisfied.

It was blood, it was all about blood; suffusing her neck, nipples, clitoris and labia.

She was afire, with desire… and, body and mind were as one: Need.

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

Licking her lips, Nina turned around and walked back home... the sound of the water was music to her ears... full moon and a wonderful view from the bridge...

‘This night couldn’t have been better,’ she thought, giving a last look down to the water... Tessa’s body was slowly sinking into the darkness...

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

Next morning, Nina Brecker sat at her desk, in the large sunlit, open-plan office.

The dark haired beauty had taken the name Rain, just the day previous.

Her appearance and name change really quite bothered the other two girls who shared the room with her.

And, as Nina idly filed the nails on her right hand, she sensed their discomfort; with heightened senses; their ever-so slight glances in her direction, the murmurs of what would have been snatched conversation: except that she heard it.

She was very conscious that she had changed physically and psychologically.

It’d been the second time since the attack she’d had no cramps… after last night.

She had changed in her face, as well. It hadn’t taken the girls to point that out. She’d seen it easily enough in the mirror. Nina’s face looked less rounded; with less age lines, as if her face had been smoothed out.

Yet it was her mindset that was so radically… she cared less for the opinions for those around her, for a start… and, all of that from two good feeds.

‘I have to get out more!’ She thought with a smile.

Cody kicked the cat
17:38 Sep 09 2008
Times Read: 1,129

Cody kicked the cat, metaphorically speaking that is. He would have kicked the can, but he still had it in hand, as he slaked a non-existent thirst. The can was his fifth, since early morning, so there was one left.

The question was ‘would he finish it,’ before the Post Office opened, so he could cash his Giro?’

He still had half an hour to wait and the PS2 was beginning to overheat.

“Time for a spliff,” he muttered drawing his eyes away from the clock to his tin: the green leaf on its black surface suggested what the contents were. The suggestion would have proved correct, as the young man opened the lid, to reveal its contents. And, he smiled at the faint smell of cat’s urine assailed his nostrils: An eighth of good Skunk, White Widow at that.

Cody rooted out his packet of G & V, which he unfurled, to dig out his papers and a packet of orange skins.

“Lay it once,” he muttered, “then, lay it again.”

It had been a simple ethos he’d thought, for years.

‘Give yourself what you need, then add a little bit more.”

And, though it hadn’t been a good week, or month, come to that, Cody fell good.

He had plans, for the night; and nothing, just nothing, would stop him from doing as he wanted, not tonight. Not now, that is …

Tomorrow was another day. In fact, tomorrow, there was a distinct chance his life might change, yet again. And, there was noway he was going to screw his chance up, like that kid in the new film out, ‘Trainspotting.’

“Geez,” he mused aloud, “that guy was a real loser.”

Yet for now, he had seven minutes left to finish what he was doing and get out of the house, just seven minutes.

He finished rolling his smoke and gave one end a twist, then inserted a piece of rolled card into the other; and reached for his Bic lighter.

Snipping the twist off, with a nip of his forefinger and thumb, he placed the roached end into between his lips, flicked the wheel and brought the flame to the open end of his joint. The paper burnt and then he inhaled the heady mix of Skunk and tobacco, taking the sweet smoke into his lungs, where he held it.

It was as he exhaled that Cody felt that expected rush sweep upward.

He liked that, so took a second ‘toke.

Then with a dry mouth, he reached for the last can, using the last one as an ashtray, as it was on the coffee-table and two inches out of reach.

“Nice smoke,” he muttered, wondering briefly why he had lost the desire to go out, to cash his Giro. ‘After all..’ he mused, ‘just two minutes ago I was..’

Cody was stoned. One good joint and he was properly stoned.

He snarled, briefly at himself, for his lethargy.

“I have to go out!” He snapped.

If he didn’t go now, there would be no tonight, of course.

So, he stood.

Pulling his battered leather bomber on, over his black tee-shirt, he looked in the hall-mirror and checked his ‘look.’

Collar up, of course; shave, no need; but, his eyes looked real tired, so he went to the old roll-top bureau, he’d inherited and found his shades.

“Fine,” he told his image; “You look fine.”

He turned, to look at the clock once more, ten 0’clock.

‘Where had the time gone to?’ He mused.

Opening his door to the hallway, Cody looked to the floor, with a light smile playing on his face.

A lot of mail and there was the expected brown envelope, thankfully.

There was no-way he could afford what he’d planned, if that hadn’t arrived through the letterbox.

He looked to the left, as he pick to pick up the envelope.

The door was ajar, which suggested that his neighbour Beverly was in.

A single mother, Beverly was often home and rarely made much noise, except for when her child’s Father called round. There the sounds from above him got loud, as the couple argued about anything and everything, particularly the care of their child, Tina Marie, all of one year and a few months old.

Cody sighed.

He wondered briefly whether to close the door to the stairway.

There were thing’s to do, places to go and a day to enjoy.

He’d been up most of the night and stayed awake these last few hours, just to be ready.

Now Cody was hesitant and he couldn’t decide quite what to do

Scowling, he pushed the door open and began to walk upstairs, to Beverly’ rooms.

There was no sound discernable, as he trod the steps, his left hand on the banister rail.

And, although it was quiet, he felt as though he wasn’t alone.

“Bev,” he called out.

His anxiety levels were rising with each fresh step and Cody quickly found he regretted getting stoned.

He didn’t know Beverly that well and he wondered what he was doing there and he briefly cursed himself.

There was noway he intervened in other people business, so what was he doing here?

Finally he reached the landing, where he paused, listening.

Silence, still.

Abruptly the silence was broken, by sobbing.

He turned his head toward the sound and with a stern face; he walked toward the sound of crying.

It was coming from the front room, her lounge.

“It’s Cody Bev,” he called out, as he walked down the short hallway and approached the closed door, which he pushed open slowly.

The sobbing was louder, but he could see no-one.

The room was a veritable hotchpotch of mismatched furniture and baby-toy’s, high-chair and walker.

There was a dresser to his right, a tv straight ahead, before a low coffee-table, with a smoked-glass top; and a long, worn somewhat battered looking

He stepped into the room very cautiously, although he was uncertain why.

“It’s Cody.. Beverly..” he said once again, as he noticed the fingertips, holding the right arm.

He stepped forward, toward the bay window, overlooking the road leading dawn to the prom and the river.

There she was. Cowering.

He could see blood, on her the back of her left hand, as both covered her face.

Beverley was curled into a ball, wearing a blue terry-towel robe, feet bare where her slippers had fallen off.

Cody crouched down and reached forward with his right hand.

“You okay?” He asked in a timorous voice. She lowered her hands slowly from her face and snapped at him bitterly, “Does it look like it?”

It was a question, which required no answer.

The short-haired brunette with an elfin-face, had a split top lip; a badly bruised left eye and puffy-red eyes; and streaked make-up, from hours of crying.

“Erm, no,” he admitted ruefully.

She sat, slowly, painfully; her back against the window seat.

“What are you doing her?” She asked, looking around, anxiously, as she tightened the belt round her robe.

“I was on the way out,” I began, “then I saw the door open downstairs. An you never leave it open, ‘coz of the little-un.”

“Barry. Barry called round,” Beverly told him, as she looked down at her knees, as she straightened the robes hem a little: “He’d decided we needed a chat about me telling the CSA who her father is.”

“And he did this?” Cody asked.

She reached to her lip, “And he did this. Yes.”

“Nice fellow,” he mumbled. “And Tina?”

“Tina Marie!” Beverly exclaimed suddenly and stood quickly, running out of the lounge and into the hall.

“Tina Marie!”

Cody stood and followed.

He walked down the small hallway towards the room where he heard sobbing.

The room was sunlit, the mobile turning through the faint wind coming from an open window.

Beneath the mobile was a wooden cot, now empty.

Cody looked round the room quickly, anxiously looking for his neighbour.

She was behind the door, holding the sleeping child tightly in her arms, wrapped in a large white blanket.

“She alright?”

There was no answer, just more silent tears.

“I’ll go make some tea,” he told her quietly.

Then as he was walking out of the room, she lifted her gaze was her child to stare at his back as she told him, “I want the door closed.”

“Alright, I’ll do that first,” he assured her.

Cody was filled in mixed emotions.

Anger toward someone who beat on their partner: and fear, as he’d seen Barry Smith in action on the street. The fellow was a loon-ball in his opinion.

‘What had she seen in him?’

‘Why had they got together in the first place?’

He wanted to ask a myriad of questions.

Instead, he locked first the front door onto the outside world and then hers, as she had instructed.

Back upstairs, Beverly stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the child, safe in her arms.

This wasn’t what she had wanted for the little girl, yet this Life is what they had.

“Okay, done.” His words dragged her from her reverie.

“Yes?”

“Uh huh,” he responded, “all safe.”

“Safe?” She repeated the words, heavy with irony.

He didn’t know what to say, or do.

“I’ll go make that tea,” He told her finally, after long seconds of silence.

Then Cody went to the kitchen, to brew up.

While the kettle boiled, he rooted out cotton-wool and antiseptic and placed them on a tray with the cups of tea, once made.

He picked up the tray and took it toward the child’s bedroom, where she still stood, in exactly the same spot she had when he had left to go downstairs.

Cody knelt and sat the tray down on the floor.

“I don’t know whether you take sugar. Do you?” he asked.

“One, please?” Beverley told him, still looking down at Tina Marie.

He poured, occasionally looking up at mother and child.

“It’s all locked up downstairs,” he reminded her, “do you want to put her in the cot and I can treat those cuts while we have tea?”

She hadn’t answered, though did as he suggested, moving slugglishly.

Just as slowly, Beverly returned to where he now sat cross-legged, tray before him.

As she sat, he poured antiseptic onto the cotton-wool.

“This’ll hurt,” he said to Beverly, looking at her face.

‘What a stupid thing to say,’ he reminded himself.

He treated her wounds tenderly, hurting for the brunette, as he saw her wince upon his ministrations.

Eventually the tea was drunk and he continued to work, his fingers brushing against her skin ever-so lightly.

Briefly his blue-green eyes met her brown: and, he looked away quickly.

“Will he be back?” he asked, as he stood.

“Maybe,” Beverly responded softly.

She paused a moment and then added, “He says he’s her father, he can come whenever he wants.”

Cody stared down at the toes of his black boots, thinking.

“You two stay at mine tonight. I’ll stay here,” he said slowly, after much deliberation.

“You can’t…” Beverley told him quickly, “He’ll…”

“Do nothing,” Cody assured her.

“Huh?” She asked in surprise.

“Look, I’m no hero. But you two go settle down in my flat and I’ll go see about new locks and fittings. Then… I’ll visit a some friends.”

He knew a few people, one of whom had assured him he’d repay a favour, if needed.

Now, it was needed.

“Okay?” Cody enquired.

Beverly stood as he made for the door, a plan forming in his mind, quite unlike the night of hedonistic pleasure; he’d in mind for the night.

“Well I don’t know…” she replied.

He stopped at the head of the stairs and turned to face her.

“I do.” I told her, with a certainly he hadn’t felt, in years.

Cody left the house, breathing the fresh air, pleased to be out, very awake, very aware of being alive. With this feeling, he went to the post office and cashed his cheque.

Then as he walked toward he locksmiths, to buy the very best, to secure their home, he knew it’d mean no weed for a week, or so.

“Big deal,” he muttered with a wry smile.

Some people live their whole lives without Love and he was one of them.

Cody knew that.

But, at one time she had thought she had known true Love. Now there she was, sitting in his flat, with those injuries.

That wasn’t right,’ he mused, ‘that isn’t Love, not by any definition I know of.’

He was bewildered.

Yet, through his confusion, Cody knew he had to do something.

So he would do something, he’d follow his plan.

MOOMINTROLL HAS ADVENTURE Story Two & Three
13:56 Sep 09 2008
Times Read: 1,134

MOOMINTROLL HAS ADVENTURE 9th June 1971



Story Two The Boat Chapter one



“Snork! Snork where are you?” yelled Moomintroll.

“I’m here but where’s Sniff?” said the Snork.

“Help!” yelled sniff, “I’m sinking.”

The two ran to where Sniff was.

It was true, Sniff was waist deep in a bog.

The Snork said, “Let him sink.”

To that Sniff said, “Wretched wretch.”

“No no don’t,” said Moomintroll, so reluctantly the Snork helped Moomintroll pull Sniff.

“Phew! Thanks,” said Sniff.

The next day when the two were on the beach Moomintroll noticed a boat.

He yelled, “Quickly, quickly, come it’s a boat. No, it’s well, a dingy.”

The other two quickly came, but Sniff tripped over and went flying, and then it started raining so they towed the dingy back home.



Snufkin Joins In Chapter Two



Now the trio had got a dingy, but they did not have a place to put it in, so the Snork said, “We’ll build one.”

So the next day when the Snork was pleased (and had gone mauve.)

He said to Snifkin, “Please will you help us build a shed?”

So that day, bangs and yells and bonks were heard, and the next day the shed was finished.

“It looks great,” said Sniff looking at their handiwork.

“Hmmmm… yes, yes I agree,” said the Snork.

But then the Snorks sister, the Snork maiden came and she said, “Pooh!” and she went off. When she’d gone Moomintroll said “Pah! Women.”

The others laughed.



The End

































MOOMINTROLL HAS ADVENTURE 10th June 1971



Story Three The Early Winter Chapter one



The old old Moomin winter custom is that every year when the winter comes, to go into hibernation with a meal of pine cones in your stomach.

But this year winter came early, and this is what happened.

One day when Moomintroll was paddling in the river the Snork maiden came along and she said, “Come on, let’s play hide and seek with the others.”

“Oh! Okay,” said Moomintroll.

But suddenly snow started falling, faster and faster and faster, then it stopped as suddenly as it started.

‘Very mysterious.’ Though Moomintroll walking to the house, there he found Moominmama making strawberry jam.

Moomintroll said, “Did you see the storm?”

“Yes,” said Moominmama.

“Oh!” said Moomintroll walking out.

On the way to the river it started to hail.

“Ouch! Ow! Eek!” yelled Moomintroll running back into house there he met the others. Then Moomintroll realized it was an early winter.



The Early Winter Chapter Two



When they had done the old old custom they still could not get to sleep.

“So,” said Moomintroll, “we will have to sit it out.”

“Spoken like a true gentlman,” said the Snorkmaiden.

“Yuck!” said the Snork.

“I agree,” said Moominpappa.

“Yes,” said Moominmama.

“Oh! Okay,” said Sniff reluctantly.

“Great!” Said Snufkin.

Then Snufkin said, “Hey! It’s stopped hailing.”

“Yes,” said Moomintroll, “and it and the snow are melting.”

“Good,” said Mother, “I’ll go and make pancakes.”

So they all had pancakes for tea.

‘An early Spring,’ thought Moomintroll.



The End

MOOMINTROLL HAS ADVENTURE
13:06 Sep 04 2008
Times Read: 1,175

MOOMINTROLL HAS ADVENTURE 8th June 1971



Story One The Cave Chapter one



Moomintroll lives in a blue moomin-house, which is in Moomin-valley.

He lives with Moominpappa, Moominmamma, the Snork ans Snork-maiden,

Along with Snuff, Snufkin and the Muskrat, with two other creatures.

(Snorks express feelings by changing colour.)

One day Moomintroll asked the Snork if he’d like to go on a hike, (Snorks look like Moomins.) The Snork said, “Thank you, I’d like to.”

So off they went. After awhile Moomintroll fell down a hole. Then he noticed that the hole was not a hole at all it was a cavern. He shouted to the Snork, “Get a rope then throw it down, and then come down yourself.” The Snork followed Moomintrolls instruction and soon they were standing facing each other and Moomintroll said, “Good work Snork I could not have done better myself.”

“Thank you,” the Snork said modestly.

The Moomintroll said, “Let’s go home, because Moominmama said she would make pancakes.”

“Yes let’s,” said the Snork.



Sniffs a pest! Chapter Two



One day when the Snork and Moomintroll were talking about their secret cave Sniff

Overheard and said, “Wretched wretch,” and then said, “Why didn’t you let me into the secret.”

Moomintroll said, “Well you’re too small.”

“Pahh,” said Sniff walking off.

“He will tell every-body, and then it won’t be secret any longer,” said the Snork.

Quickly Moomintroll ran off.

When he reached sniff he said, “Oh come on, before I change my mind.”

So off the trio went.

When they reached the cave, it was occupied by the Muskrat who said, “This philosopher now has a home.”

“Sniff,” said Sniff, (But he didn’t stay long.)

So the small part went home, and to cheer them up Moominmama produced a party.



The End

‘…for God and his Country’
11:34 Sep 02 2008
Times Read: 1,209




Bright colours screamed noisily across the night sky, as the soldier knelt behind the remains of a wall.

Just behind him, two of his comrades lay amongst the rubble strewn debris.

All around him, soldiers were dead and dying.

With fingers covered in ash and blood, right hand clasped the stock, the left hand around the barrel; he held his rifle tight to his chest, knuckles white.

For a moment, he thought of his Mother; and closed his eyes, to recite the only prayer he recollected from his childhood.

She had stood by him, as he knelt at his bedside, hands clasped before him.

“If I die before I wake …”

With a tear rolling down his right cheek and leaving a trail through the dust ingrained on his face, he thought of the twinkle in his mother’s blue eyes, as she reminded him of the lines, he had forgotten.

“If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

Then moments later, he heard the voice of his Captain, urging him and the rest of the platoon onward.

No meat-sack he: but, a man, with a life to live, whilst so many had already died

Yet, resolutely he stood, ready to do his duty, for God and his country.

An introduction, to sunshine
13:33 Sep 01 2008
Times Read: 1,224




He opened the back door and said “Buggerfuck” into the night air, before returning to her, feeling a tad calmer.

Boy, had he needed that smoke.

The idea had been a pleasant chat after work: yet, there they were, still there after nearly three hours.

The conversation was good; they seemed attracted t one another; and flirted outrageously.

And, no matter how many times he’d tried to engineer the conversation toward his age, as it felt like an obstacle toward their friendship, she had shifted it back to something he could relate to.

“I’m tired of the boys,” she had said at one point, “who think they’re so special, that just by telling me I’m hot, I’ll be interested in what they’ve got between their legs.”

“I want to know someone who’ll listen, maybe tell me I’m pretty. But, I do need to feel that I’m respected, listened to. You know?”

He smiled again: as he did like to, listen to her, tell her she was special. ‘Coz she was.

He was disturbed.

Thinking it, he grinned.

‘No,’ he was ‘disturbing’ or, to be more accurate, he found her very much so.

He’d always had a premonition, that he’d meet someone like her. But, like this?

“Well,” he said to his young friend, “I’m at an advantage, I got to know you, before I got to see you.”

It was true; he’d picked up on their mutual interests from her profile on the website they were both on; and the rest was history, their history.

He was wistful: and momentarily, he touched the screen.

“Why,” he mused aloud, “did I have to meet such a lovely young woman on a website, of all places?”

He stood and ruefully typed ‘brb’.

A cigarette was needed.

‘Well, a cigarette and the air-fare across the Atlantic.’