4
The spring had seen Alice turn forty-six, while the autumn had brought Mrs. Benson’s ninety-seventh birthday. My own wasn’t until December. The only mar on each year was the annual remembrance of the fire that had cost Mrs. Benson her family. Mrs. Benson blamed herself, and it seemed to be more survivor guilt than anything else to me. While there were occasionally guests and small affairs at the house, or ones that Mrs. Benson attended, she never went with anyone but me. She never dated anyo
So anyone following my stories and wonders why nothing is posting - my computer is in the shop being fixed. Having to get online per my phone. I apologise and as soon as the computer is back I will resume posting. Sorry.
Well Aditus, I am a mutt - Scottish, English, Irish, and German. Every now and then I toss in references from the various parts of my heritage. However, it wasn't intentional this time. Glad you are enjoying it so far. More to come and still have lots to fill in.
The Anthologies are short stories. This was among the first I ever wrote but it seemed to garner a lot of attention and people asked me to expand it. So I am trying to keep my word. Glad you are enjoying it Timothy.
I have two stories I have been working on, but not sure which one to finish and get out first. So asking those who read what they would enjoy more. Let me know.
I woke early, but wasn’t really hungry. I figured I had better get a move on, so I wouldn’t hold up Jenny or Mrs. Meyers if they had to go into work.
I’d just finished slipping on my shoes when my cell rang. I didn’t even bother to look who was calling - just grabbed it off the table and hit to connect.
“Morning. This is Jonas. What’s up?”
“You got a bill yesterday. I am leaving it on top of the garbage can. You better have your mail forwarded.