"Happy birthday dear Robbie..." The modest crowd cheered as the blond-haired boy cringed. "Happy birthday to you!" Robbie grinned widely as he leaned down and blew out the sixteen candles on his plain chocolate cake, before grimacing as he braced himself for the inevitable.

 
Photo by Eneida Nieves https://www.instagram.com/fari.photography

Chapter 9 - At the Cabin

Saturday morning.

Early Saturday Morning. Maybe it was because he had gotten only a few hours sleep each night during the week that Pete had finally gotten a good night's rest. In any case the alarm woke him and he was showered and dressed well before he had to be. Greatly daring, he had put on his bra and panties and filled the cups with the bags of rice. Donning his jeans and a very loose, sloppy sweatshirt he examined the image in the mirror and decided the modest B cups wasn't too obvious. Appropriate clothes for a day in the woods.

A Marvel X-Men Fanfiction starring Wolverine and Jean Grey

“Welcome back to the world of living beings sweetie,” the voice said. Who’s sweetie here? I had the DNR orders on the necklace tag and in my breast pocket. I had non-operable C so what is this effing resuscitation?

CHAPTER 17 - Do you know what I did to the last person that called me Tinkerbelle? I slept with him.

"I have one more room to do. Let me ask Angela if she can cover for me."

"They’ll do that for you?"

"Yes, we are all friends, they have taken me under their wings. Four of us sharing a double room. We have become close out of necessity."

Ellen had a ton of questions to ask about the four in a small room together.

She asked the most obvious one. "What are your sleeping arrangements?"

He answered calmly, "Why two per bed. Why do you ask?"

When Marshal Bullock, Jessica and David arrive at the site. They spot a group of people unloading a boat. Most of them were Indian and it looked like some of them weren’t. Marshal Bullock pulls their boat up to the make shift dock.

David spotted the non-Indian people when they dock. He was curious why they were here. He spots two young men heading towards them.
Jessica saw the two young men walking towards them. She does a surface scan of them but doesn’t detect any hostile attentions. They were curious who she and the rest of their group were.

How do you explain a day to remember to someone who was taught to forget the fallen? This is the problem that faces Terresa Cole y Nakatoma.

Previously

Well I started to follow all of Grandma’s requests, but I was seriously ticked and would really give her what for. It wasn’t just the acrylics, she was stacking the pile in the ‘choose Tegan’ column, and that was not right. I had my nighty in one hand as I barged into the bathroom in just my knickers.

“Tegan why aren’t you wearing your nighty?”

“Grandma you gave me tits!” I yelled.

If it had been know, the first sign of doom was the change in the weather that had started in the first half of November. Temperatures had started a rapid and steady downward trend all across the northern hemisphere, no matter how the weather service protested about Global Warming. 

Raven wipes the sweat out of her eyes as she finishes tightening the caliper guide bolts. It was another hot and humid day. The huge fans in the garage weren’t helping. She reaches over to her mechanic’s cart and grabs her thermos of ice water. She takes a sip of it and enjoys it as it slides down inside her throat.

Chapter 7 - The Shopping Test

Cannon Beach is an unabashed tourist town. The City Parents - no sexism here with City Fathers, please - wisely kept the beach open to everyone, building the requisite yuppie condos far back from the shore. Come sunset you can see couples strolling hand in hand or dogs joyfully running flat out, all outlined against the sea and the setting sun. There's usually someone starting a fire from the driftwood with the family clustered close for the warmth.

Since we have many new readers I decided to re-post this story today on Remembrance Sunday that was lost in my story list. It is posted as a tribute to those who served and those who were lost.
My own father went all through North Africa and Italy and survived to come home but a lot of his colleagues were killed. He took his bad memories to his grave.
Jules

‘Lest we Forget’

By JulieDCole