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Nope Never have I met an honest accountant

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Listen everyone. Clo is studying, and Gary is not feeling well. So...

Oscars future is starting to look pretty much sorted.

Tanka: It must be summer – The flies press against the frame, For just like stained glass, Their wings flutter to escape The very presence of light. Tanka: My thoughts are worn out By how temporal is our plane; The things that we have In the world are all soon tossed, One tear always bringing more. Tanka: All the crowds are gone, And the street for once seems mine; These public buildings Left to their beauty alone – To me and the setting sun. _

Ohhhhh i forgot.... What have you been reading lately? I've been reading Demon King by Eric Henry Vick (an excellent writer who is very much like Stephen King. This is the first in a series). Also, I've been reading the Cork O'Connor series by William Kent Krueger (the first book is Iron Lake and takes place in the Minnesota wilderness. I've just started the second book, Boundry Waters, which promises to be as good as the first.) and Charles Martin, Chasing Fireflies and Thunder and Rain. Super the both of them... i'll be adding more to my library. Oh and My Effing Life by Geddy Lee (lots about him growing up in Toronto.. it's great).

Yes, that particular song, (Don't Fear) The Reaper, is perfect for this chapter. I have to ask though, is there anything Tim can't do?

from anonymous

Thank you. She's a wonderful person and friend

What a wonderful tribute.

I only come to this site once every few months now, I turn 30 next month and I've been reading Comicality's stories since I was 15. That is literally half of my life. New Kid in school was one of my favorites, I also happened to transfer to a new school when I was 15. He's one of the authors I always looked for on here and seeing this post was not a great start to my week. I'm glad to hear he has positively impacted so many though, tragic as this loss is. Edit: A Class By Himself is one of my favorites, I've read most of his work but I confused New Kid in School with A class by himself.

Summer 1985 “I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Lynne said and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. We were sat together in my parents’ kitchen, while my parents were in the living room, watching television. Lynne and I were members of the Young People’s Fellowship (YPF), which was the young people’s group at our Evangelical Anglian church. We were also friends. I really admired her singing voice, which was one of those voice’s that could claim the attention of a whole room with its purity and clarity. She admired my writing, which was strange and humbling. She was one of the handful of people then who encouraged me to write, which was so eye-opening to me. Lynne was and is beautiful but her beauty is more than skin deep and stays in the memory long after meeting her. She radiates a confident sexuality which is so attractive to others, and yet she is so oblivious to it herself. In the YPF, there were so many young men who were attracted to her, some even claimed to be in love with her, and yet Lynne barely saw this. I, though, was fascinated. These young men projected so much onto her, one even claiming that God had sent her to be his wife, but none of them seemed interested in Lynne as a person, none of them looked further than Lynne’s attractiveness. To me, she was a wonderful friend with an amazing intellect and a warm personality. That summer Lynne was eighteen, preparing to go to university that autumn, I was nineteen and struggling to deal with my sexuality, and failing, believing that the only choice I had was celibacy because I was an Evangelical Christian. I had also started my first job and had fallen into a hopeless, unrequited and very secret love for a male colleague. I can’t remember why she called on me but that’s the least important part of the evening. For some reason Lynne asked to see one of the poems I’d written, one about loneliness. So I showed it to her, in the notepad I used to write my poems in. My poems were very teenage poems. They were high on emotional content and low on style and format. I simply copied the styles of poets I liked, not understanding the form or style and struggling with rhyming couplets. My poems were much more of a way to explore and vent my emotional life, to try and make sense of my emotions and the things I was living through. Lynne read that poem, nodding to herself, and, to my horror, turned over the page and started reading the next poem. After she finished that one, she read the next and the next one. She must have read a dozen of those poems. To my horror, she read poems were I expressed my struggles with my sexuality and my unrequited love (crush?), poems that talked about my love for him. I didn’t use the gender neutral “you” because I never intended anyone to read them. But Lynne was reading them (!!). I couldn’t just snatch the note pad out of her hand, so I just sat there and watched her read them. Though the expression that graced her face wasn’t disgust, it was realisation. After she’d finished reading, she put the notepad down on the kitchen table, said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” and gave me a big hug. Then we talked. I tried to explain to her my therapy that it was the “act” of homosexuality, not the desire, that was the sin, and if I could remain “pure” then God would be “happy” with me. I was still in the thrall of the True Freedom Trust. I must have sounded crazy but Lynne didn’t act negatively, but she did ask me an important question. She asked me what I really wanted. Quietly I answered, I wanted a boyfriend. I didn’t know what form that relationship could take, especially with my believes then, but I wanted a relationship, someone to love. She was the first person I admitted to that I wanted to love someone, to love another man, and she didn’t condemn me for it, she simply accepted it. Her acceptance meant so much to me and was so eye opening. There were people who didn’t hate and condemn me just for being gay, and maybe wanting to love another man wasn’t so wrong. Her acceptance wasn’t a light bulb moment, I didn’t suddenly realise it was okay to be gay, but it stayed in the back of my mind, it held out the hope that I could be accepted. All these years later, I am still in contact with Lynne, though we live at almost opposite ends of the country. She is one of the few people I remained in contact from that time. So many people, back then, who called me their friend, quickly dropped me when they found out that I’m gay, not Lynne. Many, many years later, Lynne sang at my wedding. She sang a marvellous version of O Tell Me the Truth About Love by WH Auden. Her beautiful and clear voice filled the registry office, being the perfect ending to our marriage ceremony. She was one of the four people I dedicated my first book to, she was one of the people who encouragement kept me writing. There are some people, through their simple acts of kindness and love, that leave a deep impact upon our lives, Lynne was one of those people for me. Drew Postscript: In the previous essays in this series I’ve used pseudonyms for the people mentioned. This essay is different because I’ve used Lynne’s real name, with her permission. I want this essay to stand as a tribute to this wonderful person.

“We’ve got to call Ken as soon as possible,” George said, “and fill him in on what’s happening here. He can investigate Mossan’s New York City address for us.” Ken had two cell phones. In addition to his work phone, he had a very private number. Only Joe and his sons were privy to it. Tom called the private number. “What’s wrong,” Ken said. He sounded panicky. “Are you both alright?” “Yes, but we have a doozy of a tale to tell you. Can you listen to us now?” “I’m on my way to

First… @JJQuinn hello madam. Now you check it off your bucket list 😂 Second, I have several family members that are lawyers so I plead the fifth. Never have I ever met an honest politician

I think Lyoth, Galactic Hero, already has them slotted in for a long overdue takedown.

My impression of the whole height deal is that Devin's family tries to overthink and micromanage too much. It was a failure since Devin got noticed anyway. You can instill the qualities of size doesn't matter in easier ways. It does serve as an object lesson of what not to do when Devin and Mac become parents. Christmas was a enjoyable affair. Would I be wrong in assuming they recouped the money spent on Christmas with their winnings on bets?

If @Valkyrie invites you on a picnic, beware her bestie might show up too!!!

Hey, all! In the midst of my fourth cold since October 22. Never would have believed it. My grandkids are petri dishes for germs.

Oh, so you have read the other two? Sorry to hear you didn't connect with them, but that's the way it works. Just ignore my recommendation in a later post. I appreciate you delving into this one, though. You take care too, and thanks for steering me towards "Awakening Land". Cheers, and be well. Gary.

Lawyers? I rather enjoy the juxtaposition of screwing them, instead of getting screwed by them. Never have I ever met an honest lawyer.

Thanks for reading and supporting, mdm. So happy you enjoyed it. I would ask for you to leave a Story Like/Reaction, a Story Recommendation, and a Story Review on the front story page. It only takes a few seconds, and these things stir up new interest in the story, and that would make me happy. As far as a part 2, there could possibly be another one connected in some way to Bearpaw. I enjoyed reading along with you, friend. I recommend you check out "Sidewinder" next. Cheers! Gary.