LAMENT

 LAMENT 

By John Abbott

Louise had only known John for seven months and she would never forget the night they met. Not that it began as anything out of the ordinary, but later it seemed so, because of the joy that it had brought to her. She had gone for a quiet evening out with two girlfriends; a couple of drinks, a meal and some good conversation was what she had expected. That's what she got, and a lot more besides. John and his friends were in the same London restaurant and it all started innocently enough. They bought Louise's group a bottle of wine, and soon enough, the two groups were sharing a table. They were all young and laughed heartily together, enjoying each others company. When the evening began to fade into early morning, John gathered up his courage and asked Louise for her telephone number and whether she would risk going out alone with him. She was delighted and immediately agreed. To her, he appeared intelligent, fit, strong, strikingly handsome, and, most of all, good fun.

 

Within a few weeks, the two of them had become constant companions. John Coleman was a Scot from Edinburgh, he was twenty-one years old and full of confidence. Louise had realised straight away that this wonderful man, who always had something to say, and willingly laughed at every opportunity, was also a caring and sensitive soul. He was a soldier, which had initially surprised Louise, he didn't seem the type in her opinion. Although she wasn't keen on the military in general, she accepted that it should not be allowed to spoil a potentially happy relationship. He was very bright indeed, and was an ambitious Corporal in the Scots Guards. He appeared to love the life and had plenty of good mates within the battalion. She loved his dry, sarcastic sense of humour, and found him so attractive, that, at times, she could hardly believe her luck. They communicated well, expressed both feelings and thoughts to each other, and knew the difference between the two. To Louise, the relationship seemed perfect. The physical side was sensual, and the mental side was intriguing; compatibility seemed assured.

  

   Then in April 1982, a group of Islands in the South Atlantic, known to some as the Falklands and to others as the Malvinas, was invaded by Argentina. What happened thereafter is now history. As events unfolded in the South Atlantic, John's battalion geared itself up for war. John was a confident, sometimes awe-inspiring kind of man and he threw himself into those days with all his heart. He seemed to realise that after all the training and all the hard work, he would now get the chance to literally 'test' himself in the cauldron of war. And when he returned, which at this early stage, he never doubted once, he would return a wiser, stronger man. John loved Louise enormously, and although he had not admitted it at the time, when his battalion left for the South Atlantic aboard HMS Canberra, he knew that he would miss her terribly. Louise had received the letter on the twenty-second of June.

     " Dearest Louise,

It seems I have been mis-cast. This is no role for me, I am no soldier at all. All those war-games were simple enough, but the reality is far too terrible for me to comprehend. I love you so much and have no wish to lose you. I shall never again take your love for granted, as I feel I have done, whilst I indulge my childhood fantasies here on these islands. I yearn desperately to come home. I promise with all of my heart that I will never leave your side in the future. I love you. I want to feel your hair and smell your body, I need your smile to bring me back to the world of the living. I want to feel your lips upon mine, our tongues to embrace forever. I miss you more than I can ever explain. Life seems so shallow here. My friends fall like leaves in an autumn wind. When I return, will you marry me? I will give this life up, I shall no longer live the life of a warrior. I shall not often spend time away from you I will endeavour to care for your every need. I love you, please ... please ... do not forget me. When my last breath escapes me upon the battlefield, it will whisper your name ..."

 

Louise had read this letter countless times before. So often in fact, that she had almost memorised it word for word. It always brought forth a flow of tears, slowly tumbling down her face. The taste of these tears on her thin lips was always of the same bitter, salty kind. She had imagined the scene a thousand times. Officially, she had been told that on the twelfth of June 1982, upon the summit of Mount Tumbledown, at 22:39 hours, G Company had, whilst giving covering fire to the Recce Platoon, came under heavy Argentine mortar and artillery fire, thus killing Corporal John Coleman and wounding two colleagues. Unofficially, she imagined it slightly differently. The love of her life, with his young friends, huddled together against the cold and the damp, clinging grimly to life, coming under a terrible firestorm of mortar and artillery shells amidst the desolate rocks on the summit of Mount Tumbledown. The ending of yet another young, hopeful life. The final words in his letter would echo forever in her soul.

" When my last breath escapes me upon the battlefield, it will whisper your name ..."

 

Copyright John Abbott

The Road Not Taken

 The Road Not Taken
- (Cast your mind back to 1975?)

John Abbott

A simple long-held dream, what could it mean?

To be an ardent military man,

Surely, I could, if anybody can?

 

I was strong, fit and hopelessly optimistic,

Maybe I was just autistic or sadistic?

I could jump, run, leap, climb and fight.

And I sort of knew, I was born bright!

 

I spent my time doing only three or four things,

I met lots of girls, which gave me wings,

I read a lot of books, and met a few crooks,

I played a lot of football, kicking against brick walls,

And I studied hard and read lots of history,

Which offered up both victory & mystery.


I applied and quickly passed all the basic stuff,

And I knew it was tough.

However, maybe I was too clever to follow this Endeavour?

After all, I had wanted it forever!


I had to follow a final medical procedure,

And of course, I was a believer!

However, I was told I had a heart with issues,

Very soon, I was using tissues!


You see, I had a faint murmur, 

Which made my dream a burner,

Doing this is never going to be an earner.

 

Didn’t believe it, still don’t believe it, I’ll never believe it,

it didn’t fit the remit!

With this, I must admit, 

There has to be a God, albeit one with wit! 

 

I wasn’t laughing, I was crying, 

All my planning, my guarantee of staffing, and they weren’t buying!

This military boy at almost eighteen, took a mental beating,

Surely this was cheating?




I suddenly lost hope, didn’t want to mope, but it was outside the scope! 

I only had one plan, it was all that mattered,

As for dreams of military glory,

They were forever shattered! 

Copyright John Abbott

Mojave Beginning ~ (Part Two)

 Mojave Beginning ~ (Part Two)

By John Abbott

Reality kicked in as Charlotte spoke to me in her soft tones.

" Mr Hireson - ten, twenty minutes maybe, OK. Would you like a drink ? "

" Yes, sure. Why not ? " She turned and my eyes caressed her buttocks. I admired her curves and thought what a shame it was that I could not really get involved. Body and looks - eight. Brain and life - probably not as much as I might hope for? I thought that I knew quite a lot about the personnel that I traveled the highways of space with. You could say, I knew all the important information about them, but even my limited experience had taught me to treat that remark with caution. One of my God-given skills was immense patience, which, coupled with intense and careful research on the net, normally gave me most of the relevant information on my fellow travelers.

And as I knew - information is power.

……………

Charlotte passed me my drink with a questioning glance. " Mr Hireson ? "

 

" Yes Miss ... Charlotte, isn't it ? " I said gently as I grasped my frosted fruit juice. I sipped from the glass and looked straight ahead into Charlotte's eyes. Name tag or no name tag, I knew more about Charlotte Fuller than she could ever have realised.

" Yes, what can I do for you Charlotte? " I asked. 

…………… 

" Well Jim ... Julius Caesar can't see a thing - it's cold, whatever it is. Bloody space junk! "

“ Shelt ... I know that you think I'm an old woman, but tell'em to go to Amber anyway. Space junk or not. we don't want it hitting us unprepared do we ? “

" No question Jim, you are an old woman ! But I'll get our customers to take some care - OK !"

" Thanks Shelt ... Standard Condition Amber - OK. "

" You got it Jim. " I said glancing yet again at my watch. I opened the channel to our passengers and put on my official captain's voice.

" Ladies and Gentlemen, we may have a minor fluctuation in our steadiness. Please proceed to Condition Amber now. Please return to your seats immediately . "

My eyes checked the instructions on my Head Up Facial Display. Each section of the lander was able to operate independently at a push - only from orbit to the lunar surface of course. My eyes blinked the relevant responses to Condition Amber :

Activate Emergency Ground Lights. Yes. Activate Independent Operation Pilots. Yes. Activate Emergency Warnings. Yes.

Activate Emergency Sealing Units. Yes. Activate Emergency Stabilisers. Yes.

Activate Radio Beacons. Yes.

Activate Emergency Extinguishers. No. 

No need to have the extinguishers in or around the Moon, any fire would be snuffed out immediately by the near-vacuum of Space. I checked our height and stability. I slowed old Lutter just a tiny bit, that should give us the manoeuvrability for any minor adjustments as we come in to Alex.

" Ladies and Gentlemen, please remember we are on Condition Amber - please ensure that you stay in your seats. "

I checked on my display where the girls were, as expected, Susan was in Section C, Jen in B and Charlotte in A, no problem ... everybody aboard should be happy enough.

 

Except for the delays - no problems. I crossed my fingers and hoped that nobody at Alex had got the jitters. Christ knows, times were hard enough with the trouble in the Belt without any extra security nonsense.

……………

Charlotte smiled as she spoke " Mr Hireson, I don't suppose ..." she paused,

“I hope you don't think it too forward of me, but, would you fancy a drink sometime with me would you ? " Her smile grew wider.

I was mildly surprised ... rather Charlotte than Jenny I thought.

" Ermm ... I don't know. I've not got a lot of time. " My head was working overtime. I told myself, I'm only young and must take every opportunity that comes my way, but I had plenty of problems on my plate already.

 

" I'll give you a call after we land maybe, eh ? " her smile stayed upon her face, but not as broad, I was glad to see that I hadn't disappointed her entirely. 

Then something happened ... 

A massive blast was heard and the shock rattled through A section, my head and neck were immediately forced back into the padded seat. Charlotte was flung like a childs doll at speed up the central aisle as the front end of our section closest to section B was sent spinning over my head, the whole section was rotating end over end backwards. The rapid spinning rotation indicated our separation from the remainder of the OTL which was standard in emergency situations. In a second, darkness enveloped us only for the the emergency lights to crash into our consciousness, and for what seemed endless seconds - there was silence ... total silence. The spell was almost immediately, outrageously broken by the shockingly loud wailing siren. It cut through the hot air that hung inside our section of the lander, splashed itself into our faces and assaulted the eardrums of everyone aboard our section of the Lutter. I felt rivulets of sweat dribbling down my sides. The siren was screaming at us through the stifling air, one or two people who hadn’t heeded the earlier warnings were tumbling in a weightless panic - I'd briefly imagined an OTL full of screaming lunatics, but it wasn't like that at all. A few faint groans, a little whining, but generally pretty calm which was relatively surprising due to our present circumstances. I had no doubts that we were hurtling through space and I assumed that we would all soon be dashed into the desolate, dead lunar landscape.

 

No doubt if this is my death I see approaching, then a few officials on Earth would by now be thinking about my guilt. I feel sure that my death would be seen by them as God’s justice.

 

Almost immediately, our section of the Lutter kicked violently sideways ... you could hear the passengers gasping. One weightless woman (Anne Jackson I believe?), a yard to my right, although unconscious, was spinning wildly, globules of blood and tissue gyrated around a large gash on her her head, it reminded me of some strange psychedelic effect. Again our section kicked violently sideways, much stronger than the earlier one ... It was in opposition to the direction of our tumbling and noticeably slowed the end over end motion. The couple of unstrapped passengers appeared much gratified by this, whilst the nearby woman still twirled amidst her own blood. A third extremely violent kick sideways tipped the section up at an angle, my seat straps strained along with everyone else, the ridiculous sirens stopped their wailing and thankfully the tumbling end over end was now almost imperceptible. I couldn't understand why the sirens were used at all, all they had done was scare the shit out of the passengers and numb their brains for a short period. All these types of landers had separate sections, each pressurised individually and each with limited although necessary piloting capability, I figured that someone had sorted the stabilisers out first to enable us to have a chance of surviving. As the tumbling stopped, my thoughts turned to what sort of catastrophic problem had caused our little calamity. There must have been a blast, exact cause unknown, and what the hell had happened to the rest of the Lutter?

 

A voice then stuttered into life onto A section's intercom and an overly-loud male voice began to speak. “I have stabilised the section.”

Not quite true I thought. We still had motion, but backwards and subtly right, it was at least no longer violent and was a damn sight safer than earlier.

“I would be most grateful if somebody with flight dynamics experience could help me out back here?”

I knew a bit, but kept silent ... a low profile was best in my position.

Not that it mattered, a small man - Parkin, was that his name? - five or six seats back on the port side of our section of Lutter moved tentatively towards the rear using the seats to stop himself from spinning in the weightlessness. He was dressed in combat gray overalls and wasn't instantly recognisable - although I had guessed his name, as I mentally scanned the passenger list that I had retrieved on Sunday, but then I had only noted people that I perceived to be of any importance or that I would have to talk to or deal with directly. He stopped and guided the unconscious Anne Jackson back into her seat - the globules of blood remained free floating to my right.

The section had been fully booked on Sunday - eighteen passengers in total.

 

Obviously I hadn't checked to see if anybody would cancel or not and when I had arrived at Houston early on Monday, A section turned out to be two passengers short, then there was Charlotte of course and presumably the section's steward as well. Hopefully, Charlotte should be OK, Yeah, she should be bruised and shocked but generally OK.

In the shock of our situation, I had almost blotted her entirely out of my mind.

I loosened my seat straps and turned to look down the central aisle for her. I couldn't see her at first, but then someone had got her seated. No doubt I would see her pretty face again after we'd got ourselves down.

The loud male voice boomed out over the intercom,

“Ladies, Gentlemen ... This is Steward Fredericks speaking. We ... that Mr Parkin and I, have made a quick assessment and we figure that the best policy right now is simplicity. We have therefore decided to land upon the Moon as soon as possible and signal for help.“

As I heard it, I knew straight away.

“Hopefully, this delay will take no more than two or three hours. When Mr Parkin and I have more information, we will relay it immediately.”

Lies - unadulterated lies. It must have been obvious to the other passengers as well in particular the regular shuttle-riders. I wondered ... If we had been only twenty to thirty minutes from landing at Alexandria, then we would almost certainly be quite some distance away now, and definitely north of Alex, probably over the highlands somewhere, which wasn't good.

My brain began to grind over the possibilities for myself, not that I didn't trust this pair, but they weren't looking out for the personal safety of John Hireson ... I was!

If we land ... it’ll be bumpy but relatively safe, when the beacons are turned on ... we shouldn't have to wait more than a few hours.

Of course there were major flaws with this little idea ... we don't know where we are for a start, hence the delay before rescue could be a long one ... possibly longer than our on-board supplies of air and water. And this plan assumes that we haven't sustained any damage to our major systems. The beacons should work but we don't know what happened to spark our little disaster initially on our journey into Alex do we ? Personally, I'd have gone with another plan. Spend a little time looking first, set off our beacons now, something is bound to pick up the signal, then get as close to a base as possible before landing. There might even be a base fully within range of our limited fuel ... although I doubted it. Steward Fredericks loud voice again spoke,

" Please strap yourselves in tightly ... we will attempt to land in a few minutes. "

……………

 

I tightened my seat straps as far as I could and stupid as it might have seemed, I crossed my fingers and hoped we'd be ok. I couldn’t believe that my personal safety would now depend on a ‘Fredericks’? Weird?

I spent a fleeting moment allowing my mind to caress Eleanor, which was another story entirely.

Obviously the descent was in itself not at all dangerous, but, the landing ... Now that was another thing entirely.

These old types of landers were similar in design to most classes of modern sub-orbital buses, but because they only operated from orbital transfer stations to bases they weren't very rugged, especially as separated sections ...

Normally, I'd have opted for one of the excellent first-class OTL's, but I didn't want to attract any attention to myself, so I'd taken the cheap commercial one instead, dear old Lutter.

Brilliant strategy ... I thought sarcastically.

(To be Continued)

Copyright John Abbott

 

Mojave Beginning ~ (Part 1 of 2)

Mojave Beginning ~ (Part 1 of 2)

There was I.

Alone, stuck here … for ever as far as I knew.

Money was tight … it had always been so. I knew exactly what was needed to change the situation and whose responsibility it was to act as a catalyst. 

I began to plan. I planned for the day when I would have the opportunity to rattle the corporate cage and break free. 

I worked hard and squeezed in my time on the net, and finally the day that I had planned for arrived. 

I took all the money I could lay my hands on, then I relocated … fast

……………

2108 AD - Earth Space

I am twenty-six years old and I’ve been to Space seven times and actually been out onto the lunar surface on three of those occasions. now I realise that that doesn't make me one of Earth's greatest explorers or come to think of it, even put me up there with an Ice miner out in Jovian Space, but the desire was the same...

I didn't want to eke out my existence in my own little plot, seeing similar down-trodden people in similar down-trodden places. I just couldn't see me foisting my own little sarcastic sense of humour on anybody for their whole life. I wanted desperately to explore, to see things with my own eyes and to do things that others simply hadn't had the opportunity to do.

It was this desire that had left me going nowhere. I had no knowledge of my real parents, they either did not want me or could not afford to keep me - it didn't matter, compared to some, I had indeed been blessed. I had been recognised as an intelligent child (whatever that meant) and been pushed into the correct educational facilities by my foster parents for most of my life, all of which, I had vivid memories.

……………

I was half-laying in the chair as I flipped the white plastic cup sideways out of my hand, it spat globules of light brown liquid into the air like raindrops as it clattered into the dark grey plastic bin that stood a couple of yards away.

 

I had finished my third cup of sugarless, strong tea, I didn’t recognise any special flavouring, just traditional boring tea, not some disgusting Earl Grey, and was anxious to get on with the task in hand - I only had the rest of the week to see out and PDT Kravitz was out of my short life. I had little doubt that memories of his persistent shouting would haunt me for some time, perhaps forever.

I turned round, sat up and verbally logged on.

"Hireson, John." The computer in front replied quietly, sounding very laid back. (nonchalantly)

”Hello, what can I do for you?"

"Job Search please?"

"Thank you." pause  "Begin when requested please.  I wish..."

…………… 

None of us were searching for a profound answer to life's mysteries when we had agreed on our plan. Alright, that's not precise enough, I certainly wasn't searching for an answer - and all of my three friends had spoken to me at great length on the subject of life and the Universe. I suppose we all had reasons/questions, but no answers.

 

In this day and age, I find it highly amusing that we still send snail-mail, but, it is relatively quick, even by todays standards and it's certainly safer than any form of electronic mail. And so that's how we had confirmed our agreement on the final rendezvous.

Any Wednesday, (July to September) - Alexandria Base - Griffin's Bar - 20:00 hours.

 

Bink !

The red light came on ...

The CPU had been given instructions to run it's program on some random occasion within a three year time-span. That random moment was now... The program had begun...

In the eerie near-vacuum of Space, the program had a start date of the fourth February 2108. It's eyes and ears began to look and listen, to separate the cacophony of sounds and to assess the vast number of images that passed within it's range. It was searching

... searching ...searching ... calculating ... re-calculating ... searching. It was hunting for it's prey ...

……………

Earth Space - Tuesday February 8th - 11:05 GMT - 2108

On board Commercial Orbital Transfer Lander “Lutter”, approaching Alexandria Base - just south of Julius Caesar Watch Station on the Moon, marginally east of the Sea of Tranquility.

……………

"What's that Shelt?"  

"What?"

" That ? What is that ? " said Jim.

Amidst a huge array of blinking lights on the headsets, something nagged.

" Uh ? "

" Shelt ? What the hell is it ? "

" Christ knows ? " Replied Shelt glaring into the headset.

" Shelt ... call it in. That blue one shouldn't be there ! "

" I know, but Jim ... what about the time ? "

" Sod the time. Call it in ! "

" Jim ... ? " I queried his obvious fear.

" No ... No sodding about. I want it called in ! "

" We don't know what it is. "

" Precisely Shelt. I'll do it myself if I have to. “ Said Jim impatiently.

" OK., OK.. I haven't a clue what I'm gonna tell’ em though. "

" Tell them what you damn well want ! But for Christ's sake tell’ em ! "

" Delta Five ... Delta Five. This is COTL Lutter. We have a problem. Possible bogey. I repeat, Possible bogey. Please check our sector. "

A small crackle of officialdom replied. " Affirmative. Sector check for Commercial OTL Lutter - await our comments please. "

" Shelt ... help them to find it ... we don't want no nasty surprises do we ? "

" What are you ... my mother ? Said Shelt, they’ll find it and it will be some pile of space junk. Just you wait and see. "

" You hope ! " My thoughts were elsewhere.

I was more concerned about the time. Another poxy hold-up. I hated the work and nothing ever seems to go with the schedule nowadays. I'd promised the girls that I wouldn't put up with any shit like last time - but here we are, fourteen hours late already, we'd had a hold-up at Troy Transfer Station waiting for some Earth government officials - any more hold-ups and the base would want strip-searches again, which would really set the girls off. I'd told them that we'd be straight out, minimum stop-over at Alex, then dock the Lutter back at Troy, hey presto, then a quick return home to Houston via a shuttle. Unfortunately, there had been all sorts of wild reports coming out from the ‘Belt’ about various craft and different issues, etc, etc.

" Shelt. I'm sorry to keep on, but what about the girls ? "

“ Christ ... he's a nightmare. “, thought Shelt,  “ OK, OK. I'll tell them. OK. Just give Julius Caesar a chance to sort it. I'll give them four or five minutes OK ? “

……………

“Well Jenny. What do you think ? "

" He's OK. He's not exactly my cup of tea, but ... " Charlotte broke in, she always did. " Yeah, yeah. But do you think it's worth a try ? " giggled Charlotte.

" Look Charlotte - he's probably married or homosexual. " My mind added - or simply uninterested in your dark locks, Charlotte dear ...

……………

I hoped that Charlotte gave me my drink and not Jennifer. Jenny was certainly attractive, her medium length, shaggy blonde hair and her general demeanour were pleasant enough, but I think she had probably eyed-up everyone aboard, including the women, and that sort of girl wasn't for me - short-term or otherwise. Now Charlotte was a different matter. She too was attractive, but her smiles seemed more genuine.

She also had beautiful shiny, dark hair, cut short and an arse I would sing for.

……………

" Wish me luck Jenny, eh ? " beamed Charlotte.

Jennifer’s answer was a smiling quip as she strode from the galley. " No chance, he's the only decent looking guy on board. " I realised that I didn't actually know that, we only serviced section's A and B, the rear and the centre. Section C was off-limits to us stewardesses. Section C at the front of this lander, was probably full of government lackeys, civil servants and their ilk. Who cared. She had momentarily depressed me, for every man I'd met, Jenny had met ten. God knows, she'd probably slept with most of them as well. I was split, sort of jealous and sort of glad. Jealous of her luck ... alright ... charm, I understood it, but didn't like it nonetheless. And glad that I wasn't such a tart. I was just about her closest friend and obviously I been told all the tedious details. That wasn't fair - it might have got tedious at times, but I had enjoyed hearing about them ... My, my, my, we have had some laughs, I thought.

My earpiece cackled. " Charlie, everything OK ? " Poor old Shelt. He hated these trips, but he had to put in another few months to get his pension.

" Charlie ... One last run with the drinks OK. We've got to be down in thirty-five minutes. OK Charlie ? "

" No problem Shelt. I'll do section B and Jenny has already started on A. “ 

…………… 

As I opened my eyes, the sight that enveloped my vision was exactly what I had expected to see. I had never tired of the view to Earth from an Orbital Transfer Vehicle. This elegant blue and white orb has a special place in my heart - of course it was home, but I felt something deeper, stronger, more profound, the reason was - natural environmental safety. For all humans, Earth was special, it was the only planet with a breathable atmosphere - or to be precise, the only one at the moment - Mars was down for terra-forming and the search for others was taking place out there in deep Space. I had become a frequent visitor to various parts of Earth Space and I returned to the gracious gentle environment of earth as often as time allowed. I believed that although an Earthman and despite the fragility of humankind, I was born to travel into Space. My mind wandered back over  years in a moment. I could remember being fourteen years old with the clarity of a book being slammed down in front of me. 

……………

Slammmmm !!! went the book hitting the desktop.

" What's up Hireson ! You can't recall, can you ? Think boy, think hard and then think again ! Get that memory into gear will you ! "

The present bane of my life ... Mr 'blasted' Kravitz ! Tall, thin, bespectacled, moustached, grey-haired PD Teacher. PD officially meant Personal Development, but we all called our Personal Development Teachers, Permanent Dimmer Twats. Obvious reasons really, One; they were always there. Two; they have the universal effect upon us of lessening the light. And finally, three; they were unpleasant and stupid, apparently incapable of having coherent thoughts.

 

Magically, the alarm bell rang, hence saving me from further embarrassment.

" OK Hireson, you're off the hook. Tomorrow's session will be easy. That is, for me. You've been jamming in the work for six or seven weeks now, so we are going to throw you in the deep end and see just how bloody gifted you are, or not, as the case may be. Tomorrow's session will be a lengthy essay on you ! We would like a minimum of five thousand words on what path you wish to take with your life. It will be entitled " I wish. ". Don't bring any materials or books with you, you won't need them. You will have the whole days session to produce this piece of work and must present it by 16:30 hours. OK Any questions ?

My mind leapt, the fools ... the careless fools - a walk in the park.

……………

My mind skipped the short sequence before the next day and rammed into fast forward.

To me, it was just like a dream sequence from a movie. PDT standing in front of me, watch face being keenly studied. A word emanated from PDT Kravitz's mouth, " Begin! ". I began to hit the keyboard.

“ I wish. “

“ I wish to be able to dream. I ... “

(To be Continued)

Copyright John Abbott