What A (Self) Pity Is #life cruel? Is #life fair? Why is #life So hard to bear? Aren't we grateful For what we've got. Instead we whine Of what we've not. #life is tough. Rarely just. Live each minute. And love with lust.

The Doorway Pt II Once again he sat at his desk, with his head buried in his books and his mind completely absorbed by their content. His candle flickered as the familiar cold draught momentarily broke his concentration but he was so used to it now that he immediately resumed his work. Only tonight it was different. There was a sound too. It started so quietly it was almost indiscernible. A minute or two later he became aware of the noise. It was like a thousand people slowly breathing in and out together. He screwed up his eyes and shook his head vigorously as if the sound was something in his imagination that he could stop. But it got louder and he noticed that the cold draught was now more of a breeze that had started to lift the corners of his papers on the desk. 'That door must be open this time' he thought and turned in his seat to look. 'Humph' he said, annoyed to see that the door was indeed slightly ajar. He stood up and walked over to it. As he reached out for the doorknob an icy blast flung the door back into his face hitting him squarely between the eyes and at the same time extinguishing the candle on his desk. He fell to the floor heavily, his head spinning. In the dark he put his hand to his face and felt the warm trickle of blood from his nose. He sat up trying to get his bearings but the room was pitch black. He was confused having earlier sat admiring the big yellow harvest#moonin a cloudless sky that evening. Now there was no moonlight coming in through the window. It was so dark he couldn't see his now bloodied hand in front of his face. He was about to get up when the noise started again. He hadn't noticed the silence after the door hit him but now the eerie sound was louder and closer than before. It felt like he was surrounded by people all breathing in sync. Suddenly, to his horror he felt the fingers of a stiff hand under his leg. Then another and another. He tried to scream but another cold clawlike hand covered his mouth. He attempted to squirm out of their reach but he couldn't move his arms or legs.In a moment his body was lifted from where he had fallen by a multitude of the hands. The fingers dug into his flesh and he felt pain as well as terror. He was carried for several minutes towards a green glow. It got brighter and as he neared he was able to see his captors. They were stooped and hooded. He couldn't see their faces but he was confused to see them clutching what looked like knarled wooden sticks upon which he was being carried. They reached the source of the green glow. It was a glass orb with a large, bright candle within. They lowered him to the ground and as they pulled the sticks away he saw that on the end of each stick was a human hand, fingers bent and fixed in position like a claw. He looked around and saw them stood in ranks each with a stick and its dreadful appendage. His mind was reeling. This must be a dream. A consequence of his bump on the head. He closed his eyes again and when he reopened them he was still next to the green orb. The sound of footsteps made him look to his right. Another cloaked figure approached and this one was holding a long stick too only this stick didn't have the gruesome attachment as the others did. It had some sort of wire loop on it. Before he had time to study it further he heard more footsteps to his left and a second figure, the same as the first stood on the other side of his body. It also carried a strange looped stick. He was again aware of the breathing and then a doorway appeared through which he could see his room. He strained his eyes and he could make out his desk with the candle once more flickering. A freezing cold wind enveloped him then in the blink of an eye he felt an excruciating pain in both of his wrists and once again he saw the door move violently, only this time it slammed shut plunging him into darkness for a second time. This was a horrible nightmare. He felt those bony hands under his body again and he was lifted and carried again. Only this time it seemed to last for hours. He had no idea where he was going but he felt strangely weak and sleepy. He felt himself nodding off to sleep but fought against it. He could fight it now longer and soon fell into a deep and powerful slumber. He awoke in his armchair as the sun started to rise above the spire of the church outside his window. The rays pierced the early morning mist and their warmth on his face caused him to slowly wake up. He opened his eyes slowly then shut them again to protect against the harsh light. 'Ouch' he said. His head hurt. He remembered the door hitting him in the face but he could recall nothing after that. He sat, eyes closed, thinking that it must have been quite a blow to have knocked him out. He squinted through the sun to see the church clock. 7:30am. He had better get a move on if he was to get to his first lecture of the day on time but as he raised himself out of his chair he screamed at first with pain and then with horror as he looked down to see two stumps were his hands used to be.

The Doorway He didn't believe in ghosts and the paranormal nor did he quite understand religion though he could never dismiss it. He was studying engineering at the university and this sort of thing did not comply with any of the laws of physics. He had a logical mind and unlike the Victorians he so admired, who in their thirst for knowledge had pushed the boundaries of science and morals, he felt no desire to investigate further. As far as he was concerned there had to be a logical explanation for the odd things that had been happening. He couldn't deny that there was something in this house that bothered him. It was more of a sensation than anything he could put his finger on. He would sit at his desk until the small hours of the morning studying his books. He found it easier to work when the other inhabitants of the old house had gone to bed and it was quiet and still. It was always after midnight when it happened. An icy draught as if someone had opened the door and let in the cold air from the damp hallway. The first few times this had happened he would turn to the door, expecting to see it open but it was always firmly closed. He was somewhat confused but after some thought he managed to attribute it to another resident in the house having similar nocturnal habits to him. They must be opening a window or something and its just a draught being pulled through to his room. These old houses were draughty places.He convinced himself of this explanation and so each night when the cold air crept in and touched his skin he would nod to himself knowingly and continue with his work without turning round. He soon learned that ignoring it was a terrible mistake.

Worlds Apart-prologue She'd spotted him almost as soon as she walked into the exhibition hall. She had a thing for tall men and he caught her eye straight away. He was much older than her but she had always been attracted to older men. This man was very handsome. He had the most gorgeous smile but she only watched him for a moment. After all, she wasn't here looking for love. This was work and she had to make the most of the networking opportunities. ************* He had been chatting casually to a couple of colleagues. These conferences could be a real chore. Then he was introduced to an attractive young woman called Kathryn. She was slim, blonde and had the most striking green eyes he had ever seen. They chatted about work stuff for a while until eventually everyone else had wandered off and there was just the two of them left. He tried desperately not to show it but he was transfixed with those eyes. She felt his lingering gaze upon her and silently revelled in it. She found herself looking at him coyly, showing the whites of her eyes and well, flirting. She was flirting. She gave him her card and he looked at it for a few moments then took out his black leather wallet and carefully placed it within. With a wistful sigh he looked at his watch and said, 'You really must excuse me Miss..' 'Kathryn' she interrupted. He smiled. 'Please excuse me Kathryn, I have to go. I'm speaking next door in ten minutes.' He put out his hand for her to shake she took it but they didn't shake. They just looked at one another both acutely aware of the fact that they were holding hands. 'It's been a real pleasure' he whispered and gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. She watched him walk away. She was still watching when he got to the door, hesitated and turned back to look at her. She smiled. He looked back and flashed that stunning smile making her heart race, and then he was gone. He stopped outside the door and blew out a big hard sigh. 'Wow' he said then strode off purposefully.

Fate When #life is good, when everything is settled and it seems there is a 'plan' then fate turns up. Fate always brings with it a surprise. Sometimes a nice surprise like a new baby or a financial windfall. Sometime it brings misery. A death or a #life changing illness. In both cases the 'plan' goes out of the window for a while until things become settled again. Perhaps once the baby has started to sleep and has a routine the parents can look ahead and commit to a new plan. Or the unexpected money is spent or invested and #life carries on. Or if fate has dealt a blow then there may be a mourning period. Mourning is not reserved for the dead Sometimes we need to grieve for a person who is still alive if the person they were has gone for ever. After a while the grieving subsides and, as they say, #life goes on. The deceased persons belongings are divided up, the house is sold or the now disabled person is settled in their new home. The care workers are routinely there to help so although #life is different to before, a normality sets in and plans can start to be made again. But sometimes fate is cruel. Sometimes fate throws something in that could be #life changing but can't be and forever leaves the imagination to run riot and imagine 'what if?' It might be the offer of a promotion or a job move but circumstances aren't quite right at home so it has to be turned down. Every time the successful applicant is mentioned fate pokes you in the ribs and whispers 'That could've been you'. It could be an unexpected attraction to someone. Things are going well in a relationship and all of a sudden someone else is there in your thoughts. But there is never a future in it so fate taunts its victim with daydreams and chance encounters. But one thing is certain, no matter how well constructed our plans are there is no predicting when fate will arrive and what it will bring.