{"id":173,"date":"2011-03-20T00:29:53","date_gmt":"2011-03-20T00:29:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/geraldhornsby.wordpress.com\/?p=173"},"modified":"2011-03-20T00:29:53","modified_gmt":"2011-03-20T00:29:53","slug":"samplesunday-20th-march-2011","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gerald-hornsby.com\/blog\/2011\/03\/20\/samplesunday-20th-march-2011\/","title":{"rendered":"#SampleSunday 20th March 2011"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

It’s back to #SampleSunday for me after a couple of weeks off. I hope you enjoy them. If you do, please consider my two collections of short stories, from which they are taken. They’re only 71p (UK) or 99c (US).<\/p>\n

For Kindle in the UK:<\/strong>
\n.: BMT 1 :.<\/a> and .: BMT 2 :.<\/a><\/p>\n

For Kindle in the US:<\/strong>
\n.: BMT 1 :.<\/a> and .: BMT 2 :.<\/a><\/p>\n

On Smashwords:<\/strong>
\n.: BMT 1 :.<\/a> and .: BMT 2 :.<\/a><\/p>\n

And in print:<\/strong>
\n.: BMT :.<\/a><\/p>\n

DREAMS OF CHILDREN<\/strong><\/p>\n

Pauline insisted. \u201cI know we\u2019re going to have a child. It was like a premonition.\u201d<\/p>\n

Roger sighed. He\u2019d heard this most mornings for the past month now. \u201cPauline, you know that\u2019s impossible.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Roger. The dreams, they\u2019re so real! I can feel it inside me already. I absolutely know I\u2019m pregnant. You know I\u2019ve wanted this for so long.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPauline, its one thing wanting a baby. It\u2019s another thing\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou men, you\u2019re always like this. You just can\u2019t believe we have these feelings, and that they\u2019re so real.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook. Maybe you should see the doctor. He\u2019ll be able to tell you better than I can.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRoger. When you go out at lunchtime today, I want you to get a pregnancy test kit. I\u2019m going to prove to you that we\u2019re expecting our first child.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI really don\u2019t think \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust do it, Roger!\u201d she screamed.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, okay, I\u2019ll go out at lunchtime, and get the test kit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you. And then you\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/p>\n

Roger smiled, and left the room, locking it behind him. \u201cAll right, Roge?\u201d His colleague, Staff Nurse Wallasey, enquired.<\/p>\n

Roger shook his head. \u201cShe\u2019s still adamant she\u2019s pregnant. Every day, she\u2019s like this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShall I have a word? Maybe she needs some stronger meds?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNah. I don\u2019t think so. She\u2019s fairly harmless.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever you say, Roge.\u201d He stared at Roger for a moment. \u201cJust one thing \u2013 you haven\u2019t, you know, actually\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus, Peter. What do you take me for? Put everything at risk for that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Wallasey smiled. \u201cSorry, Roger. I had to ask.\u201d And he wandered off down the corridor, not able to see the worried expression on the Roger\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

DAMNED<\/strong><\/p>\n

I am sitting on a low, dilapidated brick wall, before an inconspicuous, two-up, two-down terraced house. I am deep in thought, but I know what\u2019s going to happen.<\/p>\n

I go inside the house, and try once more for a reconciliation, which fails. As it always has done before. Despite my pleading, and putting on my best tortured soul expression, Daniella doesn\u2019t want to know. She jabs an accusing finger at me, individually listing the occasions I had promised fidelity, starting with our marriage eight years ago. She then lists the occasions, equal in number, I had failed to keep those promises.<\/p>\n

So I skulk out, head down, oblivious to the world around me. I walk into the street, straight in front of the large juggernaut being driven by a man talking on his mobile phone. There\u2019s no time for the horn to sound, and the squeal of breaks and screech of tyres makes we wince. It\u2019s not a pretty sight, parts of me splattered across the front of his cab and smeared across the road.
\nI watch as the images fade to black. My eyes adjust to the new picture, and I understand what damned for all eternity means.<\/p>\n

I am sitting on a low, dilapidated brick wall, before an inconspicuous, two-up, two-down terraced house.<\/p>\n

SAILING<\/strong><\/p>\n

The wind gusted and howled as Tom strode confidently down the wide, serrated-metal gangplank. He sniffed the salt-laden air, and an involuntary smile creased his pale face.<\/p>\n

It was normally quiet this time on a Saturday, but the marina seemed almost deserted. Nylon halyards slapped and clanged against aluminium masts like some high frequency Lutine bell, whilst blue plastic tarpaulins whipped and cracked. Passing other moored boats, he greeted cabin-bound sailors, shouting “morning” as he went.<\/p>\n

The single-cylinder diesel engine started easily, Tom following the written instructions more carefully this time. After reminding himself\u00a0which rope pulled up which sail, he moved slowly away from the berth.<\/p>\n

Tom breathed deeply, relaxing, motoring up the empty channel towards the open sea. A couple of boats came the other way, their captains’ greetings and hails lost in the stiff breeze. One of them shouted something like \u201cweather\u201d and \u201cVHF radio\u201d. Tom didn\u2019t know what he meant, so he ignored it. He was going to get a radio next week.<\/p>\n

Tom was pleased. With so few boats out, he’d be able to sail without looking a complete novice. <\/p>\n

He remembered what Maria had said earlier. \u201cYou should wait until Andy can come with you. At least, until you\u2019ve got a bit more experience.\u201d<\/p>\n

What did Maria know? Despite her concerns, he knew the decision to sail today had been a good one.
\n\u00a9 Gerald Hornsby 2011<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It’s back to #SampleSunday for me after a couple of weeks off. I hope you enjoy them. If you do, please consider my two collections of short stories, from which they are taken. They’re only 71p (UK) or 99c (US). For Kindle in the UK: .: BMT 1 :. and .: BMT 2 :. For […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-173","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-samplesunday"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5y3CH-2N","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gerald-hornsby.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/173","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gerald-hornsby.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gerald-hornsby.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gerald-hornsby.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gerald-hornsby.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=173"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/gerald-hornsby.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/173\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gerald-hornsby.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=173"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gerald-hornsby.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=173"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gerald-hornsby.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=173"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}