grahamsealby
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It was dark now; the only light came from the sparsely positioned lamps that threw a comforting soft light over the street. The object of his attention was just a door, a simple door with an ordinary looking sign above that advertised 'Turkish Bathes' He waited and watched . . . he watched and waited. He began to get nervous; he was courting danger but his needs were too strong to ignore. He glanced up and down the street; there was no one in sight, but he needed to bolster his resolv
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In the homophobic atmosphere of Sydney during the Roaring Twenties, gay policeman Constable Paddy Langdon was anxious to avoid any deep emotional commitments. Then he met a young man at a seedy Turkish Bathhouse and they fell deeply in love. Gang violence had become an issue, intensifying when gangs began to use a cheap barbers razor as a weapon of choice; this deadly item being used to cut, mutilate and kill rivals.
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You posted a comment about Book 8 Billy Chase Chronicles onto my site where the book in question is KENNY.
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Friday night at the RSL was usually packed with guys enjoying the end of the work week with other guys. On the other hand, Saturday night was more formal and reserved for wives and partners; it was the time to ‘dress up’. Gloria and Kenny brought Billy into the main bar room at the RSL about 5.00 pm and quickly found a table that had a good view of the entrance as well as the room. Billy was excited as indigenous people were discouraged from visiting the club. There wasn’t a prescribed rule aga
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‘Yeah, it’s a bit of a stretch but with luck it should work; how’s the lad doing?’ Fitzpatrick and Gloria were sitting in Cree’s old office, and she had just outlined her plan to flush out Billy’s assailant. ‘He’s doing great; it’s in credible how he’s not only overcome his physical injuries but mentally and emotionally he doesn’t show any effects of trauma. He’s like a proverbial red rubber ball; the harder you bounce it, the higher it bounces back. (Sigh) I wish.’ ‘Yeah, I understand what y
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It was a desolate atmosphere in the Headmasters office that sunny afternoon. Two men of the clergy faced each other across ten thousand miles of desk. The older man was crumpled; sagging into his chair as if desperately seeking comfort and protection. He had just been told of such evil happenings that no school administrator should have to endure. The younger man had adopted a respectable and miserable demeanor. Brother Michael was a hard man but even he had quailed at the prospect of telling t
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Not wanting to make a phone call, Fitzpatrick and Gloria headed to the forensic lab which had been established at the local hospital. They remained silent avoiding any speculation on the supposedly good news. They were ushered into the lab where the chief forensic scientist met them excitedly, and asked them to be seated. ‘Well, (demanded Tom Fitzpatrick) for Christ’s sake don’t keep us in suspense; what have you got? ‘As I reported Tom, before we’d been all over the corpse . . .’ ‘Jesus . .
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The Investigation team was frustrated and stymied. All pertinent statements had been received, then perused and then double-checked, but nothing significant had been found. No lies detected; no new evidence and no new leads. All the college clergy had demonstrated a healthy (or unhealthy) respect for Bro. Michael; he, not Bro. Dominic, was the dominant force at the college. The forensic report simply confirmed the cause of death and didn’t establish any new clues. No foreign DNA was found on or
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If the finding of Bro. Simon’s body rocked the town, the impact on the Marist College was utterly devastating. Students and staff were in shock and counselors were dispatched quickly to try and alleviate the trauma. The matter was made worse when details of the murder were somehow made known to the public. A note had been found near the body; in it Bro. Simon admitted to the rape and murder of Ruth Jalla. His genitals had been cut off and shoved down his mouth . . . an obvious message: Nauseatin
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After the penitent had left, Fa. James sat in the Confessional trying to absorb what he’d just heard. It was hard to accept that a brother priest could commit such a horrendous crime. He was shaken to the core; never before had he faced such an awful confession. Then the urge for normality overpowered him and he longed for his customary cup of tea with Fa. O’Brien. ‘My heavens man, you look awful!’ Fa. O’Brien remarked when Fa. James entered the kitchen. The latter was walking as if in a state
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The parents of little Ruth Jalla were distraught that she didn’t return home when expected. Ruth was known to wander off alone and this added to their concern. All the clan came together and started searching the bush where she loved to play. Sadly, it was a short search. Her body, crudely hidden by brushes and a few rocks, was found, not by her own people, but by a bush walker out for a stroll. The whole clan, and indeed the entire tribe rallied around her parents who were, in a word . . . gut
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Kenny, arriving a little after six, had to peer through the gloom to find Jeff, who was sitting by himself at a rear table. The Shearers Arms was a country pub catering more for passing trade than for regular patrons; and was ideal if you wanted to have a quiet talk without any unwelcome intrusion. Seeing Jeff’s glass nearly empty Kenny offered, ‘Looks like my shout, what’re having?’ ‘Large Vic bitter . . . with a shot of tequila. Tell the barman same as before.’ ‘Wow! That’s pretty powerful;
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I can assure you that none of these cretins will be nominated for Australian of The Year. When writing I became very uncomfortable, but a story is a story and you sometimes have to go places that are repugnant. Thanks for reading, I love getting responses and constructive criticism is most welcomed.
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Kenny His earliest memories were of his grandmother and the way she would cuddle him and wrap him in her arms as they snuggled together in her double bed. The warmth and feel of her large silky undies (then called bloomers) made him feel comfortable and secure. She always smelt of some sweet fragrance. She possessed a large copy of Irish history, heavily bound with embroided Celtic runes which she read to him until they both fell asleep. He became obsessed with the stories of Brian Boru, the
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HI Stephen. I'm really sorry to hear of your ordeal. I was raped by my uncle but that fails in comparison to what you went through. I've purposely avoided any detail of clergy abuse. . . . I've made any dialogue peripheral in my story. The main thrust of my story is about love but I have to warn that there is a rape scene. I totally understand if you would 'opt out' as you say, but thanks for reading anyway.
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Kenny pulled into the closest available parking space, turned off the ignition and settled back with a sigh of relief. The drive from Melbourne since mid-morning to this part of South Gippsland was not long, but he’d driven all the way without a stop. He surveyed the spreading Marist Brothers College and the adjacent (St. Bridget’s) nunnery which dominated this small Victorian country town of Waterford. The grounds certainly were spacious and well-kept with flower beds and some ornamental trees
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With a soft hiss the priest opened the sliding screen door in the confessional booth. He intoned . . . ‘In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.’ ‘Bless me father, for I have sinned. It's been two weeks since my last conf. (choke). .confession, and, and . . . father, I need help. (Pause) I can’t control myself. At least, I don’t think I can. I try, but every time I look at them, they . . . they’re so beautiful. I just want to touch . . . to hold. But then (sounding anguished) I get over
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Kenny Jones and his childhood friend Jeffry Cree, meet many years later when Kenny, after retiring from a successful footy career, moves to a small town in Victoria's Gippsland, to take up a teaching post at the local Marist College. Kenny has revealed that he is Gay whilst Jeffry is struggling to admit being a homosexual.
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Yeah . . . what a mix up. Sorry for the confusion. It's all been sorted out now. This is my first story posting and I had a little trouble keeping track of chapter posting dates and times. Promise to do better in future. Hope you enjoyed my scribbling
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“Believe me Karl, when I heard about Maria, I was shocked. Stunned more like. It must’ve been a crushing blow, coming on top of your own medical problems. I don’t think I could handle all that. How are you feeling now?” Before answering Karl looked around at the patrons of the Seaford pub’s ‘pokies’ room. No one seemed to be listening in. “How am I? Not sure. To tell the truth, I’m just going through the motion of breathing - it was cruel - hugely cruel. I got pissed and disgraced myself at the
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As outings go, today was a great success. After Luke was delivered to his mother's place, Peter then drove him to the MCG. To Luke it was all new and exciting. All the way in, he prattled on about nothing in particular, but everything in general. It felt good to see a young lad so happy. He was like a sponge - soaking up all these new experiences and sights. True to Peters promise, they were admitted to a private box at the MCG and watched the game in comfort- surrounded by all the pleasures of
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Peter finished showering and turned off the tap. Wrapping the towel around his mid-section, he made his way to the in- house cafe. All around him, the sounds of the male bathhouse continued quietly. Seems I’ve been here before. Was it only a few short months ago? That fateful night when I met Sammy. So much has happened. Not all of it good. But then again . . . not really bad. Sammy and Karl have apparently gone into a relationship that looks like weathering the tests of time. If only I’d know
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“Well, what’s so important we have to meet at your place before 4:30? I have to get the kids dinner ready and all the other chores that become necessary with two young’uns. What’s up girl, you look terrible? What’s Karl done now?” Maria approached Brenda at morning tea to meet her at her home after work. Brenda picked up the kids from school, and they were now sitting in Marias lounge watching ‘Dora’. For a little while Maria just looked into her coffee and didn’t answer. Sensing that somethin
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Even though he sounded confident talking to Maria, Karl wasn’t confident that Elaine would let him stay. Sammy might object too. After all, Karl wasn’t blood kin, whereas Maria was. And blood is thicker than water. In fact, he felt very apprehensive as he knocked on their front door, and then was invited in. Settling into a lounge chair he tentatively started explaining the reason why he’d come - “Um - I’ve got a big favor to ask. I wonder if you can put me up for a few days, maybe longer. I’v
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There was an eerie silence as the judge thoughtfully rearranged papers on the bench. After a little time he addressed the accused, who was standing next to his lawyer. “Mr. Huntingdon, is it your intention to plead guilty to the charges before this court?” In a quavering voice Nat responded, “Yes your honor - It is.” “And, are you prepared to describe your actions and those of your co-accused on the night in question?” “Yes your honor - I am.” “Then proceed. I must impress upon you the nee
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