“‘Tis but a myth,” the wise one said.
She was only wise because she was the only one who had ever gone across the great seas and returned to tell the tale to the young women in the village.
“There are no happy endings. No great desires to be quenched or to believe if you allow yourself to be tied down to that kind of life. Nothing good will come of it.”
We believed her.
Although some had questions and the ones with said questions were usually escorted out of the village in the dead of night—-to where, we dared not ask.

“Evening, Sasha. What do you know?”

“Sky’s blue, water’s wet and women have secrets.”

What do you do when you look 7 years old, but you're actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen's entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn't the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her how she looks, 7 years old?

“It was as if he had hit a cobb’s web, and the man must have been dead before he hit the floor. Brock telt me he didn’t mean to kill him, he was going to braek his arm so he couldn’t hurt Lianna any more, but the man movt and taekt the blow at the base of his neck.”

Nodding in agreement with what Thomas and Will had already settled, but looking a little puzzled, Yew said, “I notice you didn’t even refer to the new womenfolk.”
Will gave a crack of laughter, and after looking reproachfully at him, Thomas said laughing, “Rowan, Gosellyn, Hazel and probably Siskin too are dealing with the women, and if you bethink yourself I’m going to argue with those four over who runs the Castle administration, Master at arms or no, you can have my resignation right now.”
Yew looked startled at first, but then admitted with a wry grin, “No, no, and I’m not man enough or mad enough to either.”

.

The drive was silent with a grim look on his face as they left. Bling said to him quietly so Suzie couldn’t hear, “You’re a nice man, Mister, thanks.” She hesitated before saying, “I wish you were my dad.” At that she slammed the door and ran off into the deluging night. She was never to discover the drive never forgot her, and she was a major factor in his decision to become a teacher.

WARNING – This is a disturbing account of child abuse. It is based on a reality many would prefer to pretend didn’t exist. The graphic and explicit language used in this chapter is the language that would have been familiar to and used by Bling and Suzie.

WARNING – Thrift contains a disturbing account of the damage done to a child as a result of child abuse. It is based on a reality many would prefer to pretend didn’t exist.

Alf said, “You know I don’t lend tools. When I was an apprentice there was a sign in the workshop that said, You can tell the mechanic who lends his tools by the number of new ones he has. I didn’t get it till someone explained the ones he lent didn’t get returned, so he had to buy new ones. There’s a new couple moved in over the way maybe twelve month or a bit more back, incomers from Manchester I think. She’s nice enough to talk to and pretty in a blousy, big girl sort of a way, but she’s a bit dim. I know, but if I think she’s dim then she really is, right? She’s maybe early twenties, got a couple of little girls not at school yet.

Marcy smiled and said, “Forget it, Freddy, just don’t call me mate please. I’ve never been a boy. My friends called me by my name or my nickname: Marce. I’m a girl. Ok?”

Margæt was struck by the resemblance of twelve year old incomer Phillip to Woodcock, her sister Alsike’s eleven year old son, who had dien four lunes since. A thought so dreadful in its apparent cruelty, yet to her so clearly a path out of Adze’s despair and Alsike’s desperation to reach through to him occurred, and she hesitated but a moment before deciding it had to be done.

Stage 9: Where the Monkey Meets the Man

I sat in one corner of the kitchen with Skully and Ayle in the corners on the far side of the living room.

The couch was turned on its side.
The book shelf was destroyed—and a lot of my books were shredded.
The DVD player had played its last disc.

I would also need to buy a new TV.

Only thirty-five thousand people on a whole world! George hadn’t thought it through, but one thing was crystal clear to his intelligent, albeit informally educated, mind, there had to be plenty of opportunities for him to pursue his passion, and he doubted any would even care. No keepers, wrathful farmers or water bailiffs to be avoided here. Maybe he could have a shotgun.

What do you do when you look 7 years old, but you're actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen's entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn't the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her how she looks, 7 years old?

Yoomarrianna heard her screams and ran to the barn to see his wife struggling on the ground as a stranger was attempting to rip her clothes off. He picked up the nearest tool to hand, a spade he used for chopping fodder beet which was as sharp as a razor on all three edges after his morning’s work sharpening tools, and hit the man with it’s edge in the middle of his back. Llyllabette’s struggles pushed the screaming man off her and Yoomarrianna hit him again with the spade.

George shrugged and said, “The last time I’d felt like I was in the cross hairs of a rifle sight I was in uniform in Northern Ireland, but I had a load of mates who could shoot back there. Scary. I didn’t like it at all.”

It moved the Landrover thirty-odd feet. That winch had no chance of doing anything. We looked at each other and I shrugged my shoulders and said, “You can’t lose them all either, but hell that was lucky.” I think we both got the shakes a couple of hours later.