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RESTINGS, RELAXING, RECUPERATING AND WRITING!
Our latest story came to you from a tropical island where Van1 and I are resting, relaxing, recuperating, and writing!
Another story on the way shortly!
Editing on the beach is tough…… sand gets everywhere! Read More …
THE FINAL CONVERSATION
As befits the most expensive and ever so exclusive restaurant in town, the tables were intimate and well separated. Each a little candlelit bastion of intimacy. Nevertheless, if one stood in the centre of the room as I currently was you could see all the tables and recognise the occupants.
They could also recognise me and the look of anger on my face.
This was proven when I saw Colleen, who I’d married twenty-seven years ago, holding hands across the table with a guy about fifteen years our senior. The pair were gazing into each other’s eyes. The cock-sucking mollusc looked like he’d been born in that $3,000 suit which, of course, he’d accessorised with a Patek Philippe watch. Read More …
GONE IN MINUTES # 7
I glanced out of the bedroom window at Dave, my husband of sixteen years mowing the lawn. The sight of him in his blue singlet, faded old shorts, safety boots, earmuffs, and sun hat made me linger. He cut an impressive figure with his muscles bulging as he pushed the lawnmower up the slope of the bank. I continued to watch him admiringly. Read More …
CLICHE #5
The first inkling I had that my wife didn’t deserve the trust I’d always placed in her was after an invitation to our new neighbour’s house. Sandy and John had bought the place a year ago but delayed moving in until they’d completed major renovations which included the building of a clay tennis court. Sarah and I were the first of the neighbours they invited over. We enjoyed a lovely barbecue lunch and some friendly drinks before being given the grand tour. Ours was an affluent neighbourhood and the tour of the gardens alone took some time and ended up at the magnificent tennis court. At John’s invitation, Sarah and I went home, only next door, to change into clothes more suited to tennis. Read More …
MY JERRY SPRINGER MOMENT
I LOOKED AROUND, HALF expecting someone to jump out from behind the couch and laughingly tell me I was on Candid Camera. I’d have said Jerry Springer, except in his case I’d have been lured to his studio under a false pretense.
It had to be a joke. It was too surreal, too bizarre, too warped to be true. I longed for it to all be one huge joke, bad taste and ill-conceived, but a joke nonetheless.
But it wasn’t. Read More …
QUESTION OR TWO
My Dear Followers of Van1andCTCstories.com
I’m sorry if you opened this thinking it was a story, it isn’t. I wanted to tell you a little of my life story and put an idea to you for your opinions which CTC and I value. Read More …
SEVEN DEADLY SINS: SLOTH
Jane lay there as Peter pounded into her from above, pretending, for his sake, and hers, to enjoy what he was doing. ‘Thrash your head from side to side, girl, that’s what you normally do’, she said to herself. She normally loved what they did together but today was different. How different was demonstrated clearly to her when on one of her head turns she spied her husband’s side of the bed. The familiar sight of Dave’s bedside table, complete with his dress watch and other paraphernalia, caused her to freeze. Read More …
OUTSURANCE
If I’d known that today would be the last normal day in my life for many months to come, I might have made more effort to stop and smell the roses.
It was near 3:00 p.m. when my secretary came into my office to say there was a man to see me. I stood and walked around my desk as she led him in, but he ignored my outstretched hand. Well, ignored it for a handshake. He took advantage of my stance to thrust an A4 envelope into it with the words, ‘You’ve been served’.
Read More …
LOVE ACTUALLY – JULIET, PETER & MARK
JULIET SIGHED WHILE turning her head to look at the sleeping form of her husband. He was snoring. Again. She was okay if she fell asleep before Peter but on those nights when sleep took its time before claiming her his snoring kept her awake. It was always worse when he slept on his back, so she gave him a soft kiss on the shoulder before giving him a gentle shove, urging him to roll on to his side. With a grunt he did, and his snores morphed from foghorn to soft rumble. Juliet closed her eyes and rolled on to her back, but it was pointless; she was wide awake. Read More …
CLICHE #4
So much has happened in a few short months that it’s now hard to remember how my doubts started. Let me think back to what happened on that extraordinary, ordinary day.
I remember it was a Wednesday, a Wednesday that started like every other ordinary work day. I left for work at seven-thirty after kissing my wife Julie and giving my two teen sons, Pete and Mick, a squeeze on the shoulder because, apparently, they weren’t babies anymore and therefore were too old for a kiss – their words, not mine – goodbye. Read More …