Category: Short Stories

Married

04. Married

The weekend finally came, and although I had some work to do, it gave me time off as well. My job as a musician wasn’t very demanding, as most days work started late in the afternoon. It felt more relaxed, giving me time to do other things in the day time. The first thing I did after sorting out the garden and tidy up, was call Constance. Her name still thrilled me every time I said it to myself, and I felt the excitement when dialing her number…

We met up, and as always I felt relieved. I rang her quite often just for  chat, and to invite someone out was a big step p. Sometimes they were at work, sometimes they just said, “Sorry, I don’t feel like coming over just now.” Nothing you could do about that, although you could still ring them for a chat. A chat isn’t the same as meeting up though! I still didn’t want her to see my tiny hovel, so we went back to ‘our’ park. Riverview had an abundance of parks, more than Sunset Valley it seemed. I had been to some other meet ups, but this one park near the house was so sweet. It had flowers, benches, quiet corners, and although you were hardly ever the only one there, it was usually quiet enough to have an intimate chat with someone.

Just to see her walking in brought back memories to my first night in Riverview, my long night on the park bench, and my misery. There she was, smiling, excited, her hair clean and neat. We kissed, held hands, and I studied her sweet face, feeling more sure of the next step than ever before, the ring burning a hole in my pocket. Yes, she was obviously excitable, but she was kind and sweet and funny. As soon as I could, I proposed to her. I did it the old fashioned way of course, went on one knee. “Please Constance, will you marry me, stay with me, be my wife for as long as Grim lets us?” She squealed, but just about managed to gasp “Yes, oh yes!” And just like that we were engaged. I felt relieved and so happy, I forgot about my homesickness and my bitterness. I even felt a spark of gratefulness towards Master Kraken. No longer did I wish to go back to Sunset Valley, and starting all over again wasn’t in my mind anymore. I just wanted to stay here, in Riverview, build the next generation, and just live each day with joy. Life just seemed so wonderful and full of adventure.

The very same day I checked my money. I had worked very hard all day every day, writing as well as working hard at my musician’s job, and money had built up a bit. I asked the builders to come, and extend my house. After all, a one roomed house wasn’t good enough for a wonderful woman like Constance. Oh, she would never complain, of course not. She was too much of a well brought up lady to do so, but I wanted her to have the best. Well, the best my bank account allowed, and by the time the house had been extended I needed more time, more income.

All that week I worked and scraped. I extended the house, bought an expensive, good quality double bed (not making the same mistake again!) and a fridge. I even managed a tiny bathroom. I mean, I have been going to the toilet in the library, and shower at the gym, but my wife deserved better than that. My parents would be proud if they saw me, I was sure, for I had made the most with the resources I had. The items were good quality, and I felt such happiness walking from room to room. I was glad that I had stayed. I was pleased with the progress made. After all, I was the first generation in the Legacy Challenge, and already I had a house with several rooms and some level of comfort.

I must admit, work felt different the next few days. I had a sense of purpose, an aim. I couldn’t wait till I had my day off, for I was determined to marry Constance at the first opportunity. For time was moving on, which wasn’t the only reason to hasten our wedding. I loved Constance, just wanted to be with her, and felt such a thrill at the idea of her living with me, husband and wife. Fancy introducing her, “This is my wife, Constance.” I could picture it so vividly, and the days flew past, nothing was too hard. It reminded me of Jacob in the Bible, who loved Rachel so much that the seven years he had to work for her seemed but a few days, for the love he had to her. This felt a bit like that, and it made me understand it all a bit better as well.

Thursday came, glorious, beautiful Thursday. My day off, the day of my marriage to Constance… She came over as soon as I invited her, and we held hands, hugged, kissed and then I suggested a small, private wedding. Constance shrieked, excitement all over her sweet face, and straight away agreed. So we married, and it was the best feeling ever! She moved in, thrilled with my house. I had warned her, but she loved the place. I mean, the view was amazing, and the plot was huge, so that helped too, I suppose. It was a very long walk to the road, and soon after the builders came that first fateful day I have regretted building the house right at the back. Maybe one day I will rebuild the house. That might take a few generations, though!

I felt on top of the world. Constance worked hard as well, her Lifewish the same as mine. She was a Freelance Journalist, and such a fabulous writer! She loved to hear me practice the guitar, and we both worked in our little garden. We had dinner round our kitchen table, another addition to our home. It seemed such a different place to live, such a different existence! My heart was full to bursting most days. The only thing making me feel worried was that Constance must have caught some bug, she was sick all night, and most of the day. I hoped desperately that it wasn’t a cause for Grim to visit our happy abode…

Constance

03. Constance

Tuesday morning came, and I woke up sore and stiff from my cheap bed. It taught me a lesson to buy quality things, but as money was still in very short supply I had to be content with my awful bed. I got up early, watered my two plants, tidied up a bit as the mess around the place was affecting my mood. I sighed, I will never underestimated maid service again!” thinking about the regular cleaner at my parents’ house. Granted, sometimes they just sat down and watched telly, or even raided their fridge, but at least the house was clean and tidy.

Work was a struggle. I did enjoy being part of the orchestra, but my tiredness dragged me down. The noise the instruments made hurt my head, and my fingers were sore from trying to play the guitar. Being tired didn’t help with making friends either, as my mood sank further and further during my shift. I couldn’t wait to get home, and my rickety bed seemed more and more like the most luxurious four poster in my mind. I really thought I might fall asleep on the pavement outside the theatre by the time work finished…

I napped, pottered, and then went to bed happily, knowing that tomorrow it was my day off! I had great plans and wild dreams, and it involved the Girl with Glasses. First thing in the morning I was going to find out her name and contact her. My life was slipping away from me, and in order to keep the Legacy going I needed an heir. Also, I needed company, as living by myself in this one room house with a terrible bed was making me feel ill.

The next morning I could hardly wait till it was day! I looked her up, and her name was Constance. It flowed off my tongue and I kept whispering it to myself. She seemed so competent, and classy, and my hands shook when dialling her number. She agreed to meet up in town, and I got the taxi down to town, my hands sweaty and clammy. I kept drying them on my trousers, knowing that I would have to greet her quite formally. After all, we only met once, and even that was a few days ago! I swallowed when I spotted her, she was very smartly dressed, her hair in a neat bun, glasses making her look very smart indeed. I just hoped she didn’t think me cheeky, what with my one roomed house and all that…

She didn’t, she was very sweet in fact. We just chatted, and when I asked her about her career it turned out she was a journalist! So we talked a bit about writing, and she was very interested in my writing, which really pleased me. “She’s so smart and much better at writing, yet she listens to me rambling on, telling her that dramatic story,” I thought. The one niggle I had was her laugh. It as a bit hysterical, and I realised that one of her traits must be excitable… I had never met an excitable Sim before, as my parents and relatives had always been able to chose their traits. I now realised what a privilege that had been.

Some days it’s hard not to long for what has been, or what will never be, I suppose. I never saw myself as disgruntled or jealous or anything negative like that. Now I find myself looking at other people and just wishing… I think back to home, and the luxury we had there, and I feel the seeds of bitterness taking root and sprouting like my lettuce seeds. My back aches from my cheap bed, and the reason it lowers my mood well into the red is that I remember my childhood comfy bed. I’m hungry, eating cheap salads from the supermarket, and my stomach protests, remembering the wonderful homecooked food. Life is so hard, and it never was. Part of me knows that I went into the Challenge voluntarily, but part of me shrieks, “It’s not fair! Life should not be such a struggle! The Sims Government should help their people more, like insist on better starting salaries.”

I know that’s not possible, and in a way, why should they? Life is so short, and progress can be made swiftly. It’s just that I feel my struggle, and I now realise that I am spoiled. On the other hand, is it wrong to want a smooth life, and have plenty of things to enjoy? Will it make me a better person when struggling each day just to exist? Of course, I don’t share any of these worries with Constance, I’m sure that she has the neurotic trait as well, and nothing must spoil this date! We get on so well, she really is lovely, and for the first time since arriving in Riverview I feel a bit happier. Maybe life isn’t just bleak when starting the Challenge…

Of course, all good things come to an end, even this wonderful date! I make firm plans to meet her at the weekend though, and as she accepted my request to go steady, I know we’ll have a wonderful time. Not once did she grumble or complain that I was boring.. I was dreading that, for when you have a long date, this often happens. Then the girl will march off, telling you plainly that you have issues and she won’t hang around dealing with it. That must be such an awful experience… Fancy ending a date on that note… Although many of my friends told me that the overall experience was still positive, and the girl still thanked them for a wonderful time. Really? I have a sneaky suspicion that they managed to somehow convince themselves of this…

The next few days go in a exhausting blur. Life is just so hard, and the days are so long and lonely! I shower at the gym, usually end up eating at work which doesn’t improve my mood for most of my shift. Food at work is actually pretty good, and as long as I don’t feel too awful by the time it’s time to go to work I actually aim to eat there. It saves another five simoleans for lettuce. My existence is dragging me down, to be honest. The fact that a nap on a park bench leaves me better rested than the bed I bought with my hard earned money is just nagging away at me. I know I should just move on, accept it as a life lesson, but I can’t seem to make myself. I never knew I could get so stuck on little things, and it grieves me, funnily enough. I always thought of myself as adventurous and good tempered, whereas I’m turning into a grumpy old man before I’m even an adult! Surely as a young adult I should be positive and hopeful and bounce back from little niggles in life? Come on weekend, roll on!

First Day

02. First Day

You know that first morning feeling of opening your eyes, not having a clue where you are. I just lay there, staring at the clear sky growing gradually lighter, wondering where on earth I was. For a moment I thought I was back in Sunset Valley, sleeping outside after staying up too late chatting with friends. The quietness of the place dispelled that thought before it was even formed properly, and with it died my growing smile. I remembered the insane challenge I had taken on, and the mistake I had made of building a tiny room on my huge plot, rather than use my money to buy myself a decent bed…

I sat up, groaning, feeling my stomach protesting at the treatment it was getting. So I went over to the supermarket to buy more lettuce, as it was the only thing I could afford. I’m sure I can feel my teeth and ears grow from eating so much rabbit food… I missed my mum’s cooking, the smells coming from the kitchen, and just the ease of going up to the huge fridge and help yourself to great quality food at random…

Next stop was the Library again, where I decided to Work from Home, to earn a bit of money as well as aim for a swift promotion… I had no idea where I was going to learn to play the guitar, but hopefully the theatre would have somewhere to practice, I thought. I worked as fast as I could for a while, then worked a bit more on my book. After all, in order to be a successful author I had to publish enough books in my short lifespan! The stress was building up though, just sitting inside a stuffy library banging away on a computer would have that effect on anyone! It wasn’t just the computers, it was the other people in the library as well, making noises and moaning when somebody else was using the toilets. Two people were chatting just behind me, and I felt my stress levels rising with their every word.

I went to the gym, worked off the stress, and before I knew it the car came to take me to work. I was excited, my first day at work! I had no idea what to expect. I worked hard for a while, but sleeping on a park bench doesn’t leave you with very much energy, so I focussed on meeting the other musicians. Some seemed really nice and friendly but some were there just for the music. They hardly said anything to me at all, although that could have been because of my background I suppose. After all, I wouldn’t be too keen on someone sleeping rough in my orchestra.

You know, it made me look at life differently. I was so used to having a home to go back to, food on the table and plenty of family members around me, that it was hard to think of other people. Now that I was poor, and alone I realised how spoiled I really was! I had been the only one in the park last night, and I hadn’t seen any other homeless Sims, so I knew my situation was unique. There must be other poor Sims though, living in small houses without proper food. I saw how little I knew about life and its struggles, and I wasn’t too sure how much more I wanted to learn about that.

That day I got paid for my work as well as the book I had worked on. My overtime at the library paid off as well, so as soon as I finished work I went and bought myself a bed! It was the cheapest one I could find, but I thought it looked alright. I was exhausted, unhappy, hungry and I even wondered if I would make it back to my house. The bed looked better than any bed I had seen, so I placed it in my one room dwelling, pleased as anything. It was a promise of good things to come, an affirmation that I could do this, and that bit by bit I would work my way back up out of poverty. My hard work would see me through, and I stayed happy all evening, whilst I pushed the short sim lives to the back of my mind. Grim doesn’t give you much time, not even in Riverview, I knew that. I had a very hard Lifewish, thanks to Master Kraken, and I had no idea how I was going to fulfil my Lifewish before Grim appeared with his heart stopping noise. I just wanted to think everything was going to be alright. After all, I managed to buy a bed already, and I had only been here one day, so I had this legacy challenge sussed out no doubt.

I planned to rise early, water my two lettuce plants, then set off to the library to work until I couldn’t possibly do anymore. At that point I would go to the gym, work off my stress and shower, then maybe have a quick nap on a bench somewhere before heading to work. I could see the days ahead in my mind. Long, busy days with money flooding in, and my one room house growing and expanding. Of course, I wasn’t expecting it to be easy, but for the time I had been here I felt I was doing well.

That was because I didn’t realise that not all beds are equal. In the morning everything ached, and I kept longing for my park bench that seemed to have been more comfortable than this bed that I had sacrificed my precious simoleans on! I felt my mood sink lower and ever further into the red, wondering again and again whether I should travel to another area, and start all over again. I had made mistakes, and I wasn’t sure that there was any space for mistakes in the Legacy Challenge. How I wished I had never set off! I was sore, hungry, dirty and miserable, and looked at my situation more realistically as well. I knew I couldn’t afford a better bed, or proper food. My books came along slowly, work was tiring and stressful…What had I done? Why had I felt the need to prove myself?

Challenge

This is a new series based on Sims3. I decided to do the Legacy Challenge, rather than just play.

The Challenge

I can’t believe I did it. Why I fell for his talk, who knows. I mean, I should have known better, for after all, he was one of the Kraken family boys, and judging by their furniture I should have guessed. He had made an outrageous proposition, and stupid as I was, I had fallen for it.

“It will be fun, and I bet that you’ll struggle and I just wonder how long you would manage. Not that it’s hard, but you have to admit that you’re spoiled, and your family are all used to luxury.”

I can still hear his snooty voice, and see his face, looking at me sideways. Yes, I agree my family is used to living in the large family home, three stories tall and all that. I loved my parents’ house. It was large, and had all the modern facilities money could buy you in Simland. I loved watching my dad paint, or watch the neighbours coming to the pool at the back of our home. As a child I spent hours in the garden on the swing or in the playhouse. I still believe there is nothing wrong with having a comfortable house. It doesn’t make you weak or spoiled.

I’m probably spoiled though, as my parents didn’t need my income, so I never had a part time job when in school. I just played at home, went for a run or met up with friends. Being spoiled doesn’t mean I won’t accept a challenge, though! So I accepted Master Kraken’s challenge, only hearing part of his list with rules and regulations.  It sounded easy enough, and in a way I was excited about travelling away from my parents, starting all over in a new town, a new area, even taking on a new Family Name. When he looked at me to see if I would accept I nodded enthusiastically, and agreed wholeheartedly, trying to make it sound like something I would love to do, and pretend I would just add it to a long list of other equally tough challenges…

So I packed a few clothes, nothing else was allowed, got the coach out of Sunset Valley with my single ticket to Riverview and arrived there late Saturday night. The town seemed much smaller than Sunset Valley, its lights reflected on the river, the second river obscured by town buildings. The coach dropped me off in the centre, the buildings packed close together, and I made my way to the prearranged meeting point. From there the Estate Agent took me in his car to the designated plot of land that was going to be mine. It was a long drive, dusk coming in fast whilst we sped past field after field and the occasional small cluster of houses. Master Kraken had told me the maximum amount of money I was allowed in my bank account, and he had given me an address of a plot of land that he had arranged.

“You’ll like the plot, it’s near the river, in a good neighbourhood, so it won’t hurt your aesthetic feelings.” He had laughed again, pleased to have another dig at my background. “It even has a posh name, Riverblossom Hills Drive, number 345. The views in itself are enough to cheer you up!”

I had to agree, even at dusk the area looked amazing, and the houses around were wonderful, private pools reflecting their garden lights. The Estate Agent stopped the car, and we got out. Then I realised that this was it. My home. Apart from there was no home… There was a bin, a post box and lots of ground. Nothing else. The Estate Agent must have seen my face, for he told me that I could arrange for the builders to come along, if I really wanted a building. I nodded.

“Yes. Yes, please, I mean, I need at last one room, if not more. I haven’t even got anywhere to sleep! I also need somewhere to put my desk, as I’m an author, and all that…” My voice trailed off, as I tried to think of all the stuff I would need to buy to have a reasonably comfortable life. He got on his phone whilst passing on the papers to me with his other hand. He looked pleased when coming off the phone a few moments later. It was clear that the builders had expected his call.

“They’re on their way now, Mr Legas,” he smiled, watching me sign the papers. I know I should have backed out of the whole thing there and then. In hindsight, calling the builders was a huge mistake as well. I didn’t back out of course, I mean, what other option did I have? I didn’t even have enough money to travel back to Sunset Valley, and I couldn’t admit defeat before even starting. After all, how hard could it be? I would find a job in the morning, start that novel I had wanted to write for ages, and just make some money that way.

The builders arrived, looked at my finances and built the smallest room possible. By the time they left I had no money left whatsoever. My bank account was empty, I couldn’t even buy a bed. Even a visit to the supermarket would see me leave empty handed! Fortunately my mum had made my favourite food before I left, so I wasn’t hungry, and it was early morning by now.

I decided to get started with my new life right now. So I got the taxi into town (thank goodness Sims Taxis are free!) and went to the local library. I started writing a novel as fast as I could, knowing that the Lifewish Kraken had saddled me with was to be a successful author. By the time I got too stressed to write another word I had at least enough money to buy some lettuce. I bought three, planted two at my plot, and ate one. After a quick workout in the gym and a warm shower I went back to write a bit more.

That night I slept on a park bench. I lowered myself on the hard wooden bench, close to tears. I love adventures, and it had all sounded so appealing. You know, start a totally new life in a new town, with humble beginnings, and build up this huge Dynasty. I looked at the stars, who seemed strangely blurry. I had totally underestimated the word ‘humble’. I knew my home wouldn’t be anything like my parent’s house, of course I knew that. But to get to a new town and to find out that all you have is an enormous plot of land…well, that was a different matter!

Here I was, Daniel Legas, just turned a Young Adult, sleeping on a park bench with nothing for food all day but some cheap lettuce… I had a job as a musician, at least that was something I suppose, and I had one book finished, but still not enough to buy furniture or proper food! Before I grew old and Grim came for me I had to have a wife and an heir, otherwise my Legacy Challenge would die with me!

Just when I started to feel really sorry for myself I saw someone coming into the park. I sat up from my short nap, and greeted the girl. She was very nice, so we chatted for a bit, her voice excited and she laughed at all my jokes. It seemed so unreal at that time, I never even checked her name. She had glasses and her hair up in a bun, that is all I remembered. When she left I went back to my bench, exhausted from the emotions and hard work of today.

By the time I drifted off to sleep the Girl with the Glasses seemed to just be part of the whole wild dream, part of the challenge and not reality at all. Reality was my stomach as empty as my bank account, and the hard wooden bench in a strange park in the centre of an unknown town surrounded by rivers and green fields. That night my dream involved Master Kraken’s thoroughly unpleasant face and the excited laugh of a pretty girl.

The Start Of It All

Back at the Sims! After a loooong break doing other stuff, I’m back at the Sims, but Sims3 this time, not Sims Mobile. Sims3 is different, in that it has a character called Grim, and your Sims die… In Sims Mobile they just move out to an old people’s home, presumably… Sims3 moves very fast, it’s very busy, and very much based round family life. They have jobs, which affects their happiness and health, and it’s a lot more involved. Great fun though, and watching them move around brings stories up again.

I tried first person, past tense for a change. My first time ever, and it feels a little weird, but fun to do! This is the first one of the series, and involves Grim…

The start of it all

It all started that one hateful morning.

I had seemed such an ordinary Saturday morning. Everybody had been at home, even I didn’t have to go anywhere till much later that afternoon. We had all started the day early, we liked it that way. Wilbert had to start at the base so early in the week, we all got used to getting up at the same time as him, have breakfast together, squabble over bathroom space, and then our day would just enfold.

Even in weekends Wilbert was an early riser, and he liked his family around him. Not that he talked much, but he did love having us around, especially me. So that morning had been an ordinary morning. We had breakfast, I think Dad actually made us breakfast. The twins were still very young, and Samuel used to go off and paint straight after breakfast, and keep it up for hours. Sarah was a lot more complex. She didn’t really paint, didn’t play the guitar, and had as her Lifewish to be the top surgeon in the hospital. Or top doctor, I don’t know, something medical anyway. She tended to read a lot. She did enjoy working out with her twin brother though, but even then she got stressed in school easily.

Having the twins had been hard work. Of course I had eaten all the relevant fruits, read the best books, listened to that awful channel on tv, and had the stereo blaring away kids’ music. We had had to wait before we were granted permission. The Baby Planning Office takes its job very seriously, and my brother was still living with us when Wilbert and I finally got married. We had to wait to get married, as my brother’s wife wanted to have her first child before we did so. She obviously wanted to settle in as the oldest family unit; you know, the young couple with a baby, as opposed to just a young couple, and to share the Child Grant equally. They had their first boy, and we got married. The very next day she announced that she was expecting again, all glowing and smiling. We knew already, of course, our bedroom was next to the bathroom…

That meant that our Child Application was rejected, and there was no way we would be allowed to have a child. I was heartbroken, as well as furious, but Wilbert was always so calm and strong, he just saw me through that impossible time. Soon after Caleb, my brother, managed to persuade my parents to pay for a decent family home for him and his family. They did, of course they did. We have one of the healthiest bank accounts around, so why not? I didn’t even begrudge Caleb his apartment. I was just relieved, and rushed the application off as soon as he and his family left our large home. I was just desperate to have twins; after all, time moves so fast, and I was still young, Wilbert had a good income, and worked really hard. Having twins would mean less time off work for me too, so I could carry on my wonderful music career. I felt that twins would make up for lost time as well.

So I read, listened to kids’ stuff, and ate and ate… It paid off, as it always does, and we had Samuel and Sarah. I fell in love with them, even though many days I went a little stir crazy in the house, rushing around to make sure they had a very good upbringing. After all, only then does the Baby Planning Department allow you to choose traits for your children! We managed, Wilbert didn’t get involved too much, he just worked hard. My dad helped a lot, and so did Mum. Then Mum passed, but she had always been quiet, and in a way she made me nervous. You see, Mum had been a very successful musician in her time. She still worked for the Orchestra, and did well. I just moved on, relying on Dad to help out and do the garden. He and Mum were both very keen gardeners, and neither Wilbert or I could stand it! Dad just dug away, humming, and laughing.

Then little Joseph was born, and I loved him, even though I chafed a little at my time away from the Music centre. I hadn’t really been at work since I had the twins, and now I was off even longer. Wilbert just laughed and hugged me, encouraging me to play the guitar outside, in front of the house. I did, and it was lovely. Many people pass our house on their way to the pool, and they always stopped and listened to me playing. Time was sweet and happy, and so calm. Dad cooked a lot of the meals, he worked in the garden, and saw to the children. Life was just amazing in our huge family home, with my three sweet children, my smiling Dad, and the most wonderful husband in the world. Then the fateful day struck and I never even saw it coming.

Dad decided that he’d harvested enough to make it worth a trip to EverFresh Delights Supermarket to sell his produce. I smiled at that, knowing that Dad had a lot of good quality fruit and veg to sell. In a way, I knew that with three kids we were bound to end up paying for at least one family home… So Dad announced that he was going to the Supermarket in a bit, which was fine. He just sorted out little Joseph who had just aged up into an adorable little toddler. On a whim Dad decided to take Joseph with him, which was a bit odd, but as I had just started a painting to work towards my own Lifewish, I was glad that there would be no distraction whilst Dad was out.

Dad and Joseph went off, and I painted, greeted neighbours, hummed whilst choosing my colours… Suddenly I felt this panic, and I just knew something was wrong. I looked around, but Wilbert was working, the twins were busy doing their own things, all the neighbours seemed fine… I called out to Wilbert whilst sorting out my brushes, “I’m just popping over to the Supermarket!” I made it sound as if I needed some ingredients or something, but I just ran and ran all the way there.

I will never forget the sight. I was too late, well, almost too late. I could hear Joseph’s crying from the distance already and that odd roaring sound when Grim is at work. My heart sank, and my legs shook, but somehow I managed to stagger on. And there, in front of the supermarket sat my sweet little Joseph waving his fists and wailing like a banshee. I was just in time to see the last of my Dad fade at Grim’s feet, the people around crying and begging Grim… In fact, even Grim must have been moved, probably by the sight of my crying baby on the pavement, for he stayed on for a while. Of course, there was no arguing with Grim, I tried that, naturally. I picked my little Joseph up, and consoled him, but my heart was just in pieces. My poor Dad, I just realised how much I loved this quiet man, and Wilbert and I seemed so young and inexperienced! Now it was just us and our three young children rattling along in that large house.

That’s when it started.

I changed; everything changed. Wilbert was calm and patient with me, and just loved me to bits, but I changed. For starters, I found out that another baby was on its way, even though I didn’t tell anyone at work, I had only just gone back after having Joseph! Nobody really knew, as it was Wilbert’s birthday that same day, and there was all this cheering and clapping, and they all missed my quiet announcement. I knew time was starting to run out for us soon too. Wilbert had aged up into a mature adult, and I would follow in a few days. Before we knew it we would be elderly, like my Dad, and that horrible Grim would come with his heart stopping noise. So I threw caution to the wind, even though I still loved my career, and even though I had no idea how we would manage with so many little ones, but my brain had been re-wired it seemed. I just wanted… Well, that was exactly it, I just wanted, full stop.

Sophie was born, my little darling girl. I can’t even remember going back to work for more than a few days, because by the time Sophie was much older, Jonas was born. I told Wilbert that it really was a shame to have all that empty attic space, and he laughed and told me to get the builders in if I wanted… I did, they converted the attic space into a huge new room. It was very rudimentary, but it had a few beds and lights, so it worked. I bought quite a few things in fact, and discovered Retail Therapy. Not that it healed much, but Wilbert just laughed and shrugged, and his hugs did really help.

That was how it started, and after baby Andy was born I was too busy and tired to think much. I just didn’t want to think either. So I painted and played my guitar, and thought of things to buy for our home. And I never ever tried to think of that hateful day. Not ever!

Merry Christmas

Hugh! Wait, please wait,” but her gasps go unnoticed by the stocky man striding ahead of her, already pushing his way through swinging doors into the shopping centre. For one second she hesitates, should she just…give up? That doesn’t work though, and she blinks as more snowflakes land in her eyes, so clutching her throat as if to prevent her heart from making its way out through there she staggers on, trying to pick up speed again.

She looks down at the tiled floor, knowing that the slightest unevenness will be the end of her mad dash. “Why on earth did I think it would be a good idea to wear high heels to this, and in this weather too?” she moans, not for the first time this afternoon. “This must be the fastest I have ever run in high heels though,” she keeps up the conversation in her head, hoping that the rhythm of her words will somehow make her legs join in. She tries to ignore the tightness of her shoes, hoping that they will soon reach their destination. Hugh is only just visible, making her feel annoyed, and clutching her salmon coloured bag she considers just pretending that she had to stop. “Maybe I could trip, or I might not need to pretend, soon I will have to stop or collapse,” she grumbles, not even able to mutter the words anymore.

Her throat burns from the erratic gasps, as she struggles more and more to draw in enough oxygen to supply her through this mad run. “I…I just can’t anymore,” her lips form the words, and she leans on the large pillar in the shopping centre, unable to move, her heart beating a loud thumping tune in her head, forcing her to close her eyes. She leans over, gulping in air, her lungs protesting against the rough treatment, making her cough. Her legs are shaking, unaccustomed to her semi high heels, and it’s a definite first for running in these shoes, and judging by her sore feet, probably the last time as well! Self pity is making her breath sound more wobbly, and just when it is growing and flooding her mind, Hugh is there. A very unhappy Hugh.

“Where were you? One minute you’re right behind me, next time I look round you’ve disappeared, and then I find you skulking behind this pillar!” His voice sounds accusing, and his eyes look at her with disdain. She would like to roll her eyes at the unfairness of it all, for Hugh isn’t even out of breath in the slightest! “We need to go, or we’ll be late, and then what?” He asks, but she knows he doesn’t expect an answer, so she merely nods, and manages to stand up straight again. This time she clings on to his arm, determined not to be running after him again, and hopefully he can take some of her weight, and relieve her feet a little!

Together they push through the mass of humanity that seems to have descended on this particular shopping centre. “You’d think they were giving stuff away for free to attract so many people,” Hugh sounds gruff, and she just smiles a bland smile, knowing it’s best not to react. She’s actually grateful for the throng of shoppers meandering down the wide path, for it means that Hugh will have to slow down, allowing her to feel more steady on her heels. Finally they’re in the cosy restaurant, and she feels herself relaxing a little,  for even though a whole meal with Anika doesn’t particularly thrill her, the best thing is that she can kick her shoes off for the evening. The meal itself is lovely, the steak just right, and she smiles and nods at Anika’s endless stories about her little dog, wondering all the time how she is going to make it back to the car… Guilt fills her when it’s Anika who suggests that the men get the car, and for a moment she wished she had paid attention to the dog stories, you know, as a ‘thank you’ gesture. Her “Merry Christmas to you both,” just before lowering herself into the car is therefore more genuine than it has ever been, and freeing her ultra thin tights from the blood encrusted blisters, she whispers through gritted teeth, “and a Happy New Year!”

Jolly Nice Murder

He opens the burger box, his mouth watering. The fat burger with a strip of bacon on the top, smothered in melted cheese makes his stomach growl. He sighs with a long, satisfied sound, just what he needs. A good, hearty burger, red on the inside. None of the fast food chain type burgers, limp flimsy bits of so called beef. No, a Jolly nice burger is what he has been looking forward to. He takes a hungry bite, chomping away, his hands still cold. The large yurt is warm and comfortable and very quiet, but outside the wind is bitter. He thinks about tomorrow, a frown on his face, looking at his problem from various angles. His poem, that is the problem. His St Nicholas’Poem for Brendon. He tuts, taking another bite, relishing the juicy beef with onions. Yes, it was a good idea going here for lunch. Now, Brendon’s poem, or rather, the lack of one. Truth is, he has been putting it off, remembering Brendon’s fury last year. All contained under a pleasant smile of course, but he knew better. Brendon had smelt like murder last year, and if he finds out that he, Johan, has got Brendon’s name again…well, no St Nicholas chocolate will be able to smooth out the evening, he reckons.

Bits of last year’s poem come back to him, and he chuckles in spite of himself. Of course, laughing at your own jokes is pretty poor taste, but then, it had been rather funny to watch Brendon having to read out his poem. He had really enjoyed himself until the poem was over, and Brendon had looked his way, knowing full well that Johan must have been the Saint and Helpers signed off at the end of the poem. Johan had continued laughing with the rest, and so had Brendon, but he remembers the twitching in his eye. He had pretended to sneeze and blow his nose, worried that Brendon might notice the tick, and guess his fear. Brendon had brushed the joke off like flakes from his jacket, but no before Johan had noticed his looks. Now he has got him again,and he will need to produce another poem, but somehow Johan hasn’t got the courage to mention Brendon’s business policies again. Last year he had laughed at the risk it involved, sure that Brendon’s policies were public knowledge anyway, but as Brendon read out the poem Johan realised that he had made the mistake of his life. Literally.

Johan bites and chews through the burger, napkins at the ready, as the burger leaks and bits of coleslaw drop out. Somehow the joy he felt over the first bite or two has started to fade. He will need to come up with a poem soon; one that is funnier than last year’s, but safer. Johan has no desire to be on the receiving end of Brendon’s ire again! Even though nothing ever came of it. Brendon made the odd comment that seemed to hint back to their festive evening, but Johan had expected something a lot more dangerous. Brendon was ruthless, he thinks, I will never forget that poor coffee lady… Brendon had gotten away with it of course, apparently the woman had a heart condition,but Johan is pretty sure Brendon had something to do with her fall. He hadn’t really thought about the consequences of his poem, only when Brendon’s eyes hooked onto him did he think. It was too late then of course, but maybe Brendon saw the funny side of the poem after all? He feels quite pleased for a moment,wondering if maybe Brendon had met his match! He never had expected it to be him, though. Johan pops the last bite of his burger in his mouth, grinning.Yes, Jolly Nice Burger seems a most appropriate name for it! Just when he puts the thin paper napkin down in the box his phone vibrates. He turns his phone on,his tongue dealing with rogue burger crumbs.

“I hope you enjoyed that, as it will be your last. I’ll save you the difficulty of getting me a present and a poem. Have a Jolly Nice St Nick.” Brendon. Brendon sent him a text, but what does he mean? Johan stares at the screen until it fades out. When he turns his phone on again the message has disappeared, it was obviously there to be read just once. What does he mean,last one? And their St Nicholas celebration at work is not for another day. He sits very still, his mind skipping past all the options, and he is only vaguely aware of the tingling in his mouth, the heavy feeling in his stomach. Not for long though, and Johan feels a growing sense of panic as he stumbled to the little toilet block. He makes it with seconds to spare, and is violently sick.When he tries to get up, he finds himself unable to breath, and he frantically gropes for the lock, hoping that the outdoor air will help him to catch some needed oxygen. The last thing he sees is Brendon, grinning, eyes still burning with fury, “Have a Jolly Nice St Nick,” his voice fading away fast.

Lamb

Lambs

“Nathan, you have come to see me?” the king’s smile is tight as he looks at the prophet. His face shows no pleasure this time. Nathan is shocked to see the paleness of the king’s face, but he hides his concern in his bow before the king. He stands right in front of the king, looking at the older man. Time hasn’t been very kind to his king! The king slouches back onto his throne, leaning on an arm, his ginger hair hiding his hand. “Well, tell me what this is about, Nathan” impatience sounding through, eyes wandering round the large throne room. The king frowns a little, finding his heart beating restlessly. “Surely I have nothing to fear from this prophet,” the king clenches his fist, hidden in the curls, “After all, I have served God this year, haven’t I?” He can feel that dark corner in his heart stirring whenever he thinks of the Lord, a corner that he has kept locked up this year, ever since…well, that’s just it. Ever since.

Nathan leans forward a little, his usual calm stirred up about something, the king’s interest piqued. “You see, oh King, there are these two men in your kingdom,” he raises his hand as the king raises an eyebrow, opening his mouth to interrupt. “I know, it sounds like a case for your judges, but hear me out, oh King,” Nathan says hastily. “You see, it’s not just a standard dispute. Please allow me to continue, oh King.” The king shrugs, how could he argue with a prophet; after all, they both serve God, and Nathan has come especially to see him. His breath comes a little easier as well, he did wonder if Nathan would mention his youngest son, but it seems to be a dispute between two men. So the king nods at Nathan, whose calm voice carries on, “The one man is very rich, I won’t mention any names, but he has large herds of cattle and many sheep. Some of his sheep are on the far pastures, some are closer to his house, to make sure they always have what they need.” The king looks at Nathan, the frown still in place, relief in his eyes though, and Nathan continues, “He is an upstanding member of the community of course, with many contacts. His family is from a well known tribe, and he is known for hospitality.” Nathan pauses, looking at the king, noticing his eyes reflecting boredom. There are so many wealthy people around as it’s a good time in the kingdom. They have had peace in the country itself for a while now, so many inhabitants have extended their herds and flocks. Nothing special about that, and certainly not worth a busy king’s time.

“Near his house is a small cottage, with a poor family. They work hard, but they have very limited resources. The mother has not been well, and the man has several young children. It’s a happy family, making the best of their circumstances. Most of the time the father works for the rich landowner, who isn’t an easy man to work for. In all their struggles, this family have one thing they value above all else. One thing they do have in their poverty, and that’s a little lamb. The father loves this lamb, as he has brought it up by hand. They couldn’t afford anything else, and the whole family adores the little thing. It lives in the cottage with them and has been a source of great joy and comfort to them all.”

The frown has been replaced with a dreamy smile. Yes, King David knows about bringing up lambs by hand; the tedious, regular feedings, the wriggling lamb on your lap, its tiny feet dancing on your legs whilst seeking the milk. He knows the love a man can feel for this sweet creature. The special bond that will always be there, even when the lamb turns into a sheep, stubborn, wayward. He dreams back to the fields around Bethlehem, hears their quivering voices echoing around, feels their soft curly wool. Nathan inclines his head, knowing he now has the king’s ear, “You see, the man fed the lamb, allowing it into the house. It actually ate off his table, played with his children, and the man loved this lamb like a daughter.” The king nods, yes, he fully understands, and a sense of being a kindred spirit with the poor man grows in him.

“Well, King, the rich man had a visitor stay over. He wasn’t expecting anybody, the man turned up at an awkward time. Of course, a meal had to be prepared straight away.” Hospitality is of the utmost importance, the guest would have to be served. Any guest has to be served well, treated with respect and care. “The problem was, the rich man didn’t want to sacrifice any of his sheep for this traveller. He didn’t know him that well, and to lose a valuable sheep just to feed a stranger went against his business sense. So he went to the poor man’s cottage.” Nathan stops, as the king sits up in shock, guessing where this is heading!

“Yes, your Lordship, he took the poor man’s lamb, in spite of their cries and protests; deafening himself against their pleas, and used this lamb for the evening meal.” The king is outraged, his fair skinned face red with anger, his fists balled on the arms of his throne, dark eyes filled with fury.

“Outrageous!” His splutters in anger, “What a terrible, cowardly act! As the Lord lives, Nathan, that man shall be put to death, that is certain. He will restore the lamb four times over to the poor family, although nothing can replace their precious lamb, of course. To have such an outrageous act done in my kingdom! I will personally see to this, for the man has shown no pity to the poor family at all!”

Nathan stands there, quietly, his face showing none of the king’s outrage, as he slowly lifts his arm, pointing at the furious king, his words ringing round the deadly quiet throne room, “You are that man, oh King, it was you!”