Rigby Taylor

This is so well written - brilliant descriptions, sharp dialogue, great characters, and amazingly, it's both funny and sad. So many great lines - this one perfectly described me playing ball games: "I found the ball and tried to throw it back to the infield. It landed about halfway between me and the person I was trying to throw it to and stopped dead in the grass." Cracked me up.

Thank you JeffreyL for this wonderful comment and for your magnificent review of Frankie. I am so relieved that you can 'safely read' my stuff - because my memoir that is about to appear, has ruffled a few feathers elsewhere. And thanks for reading all my stories, it does make writing an even greater pleasure when you know someone is actually reading what you write.

Thanks, Ulyssess. I'm pleased you approve.

Wow, that's a relief. Hang onto that optimism, Wesley. I'm pleased you approve of the ending. Thanks for reading and commenting, it is very appreciated.

And thank you, Gene, for reading my stories. Yes, Frankie found his anchor, and deserved it. Without the dream of a happy ending, life would be empty indeed.

Trust me, Canuk. My recent fiction is not readable because my brain's too clogged with self-righteous outrage about the way humans have allowed themselves to return to serfdom, after what seemed like the beginning of a new era - back in the 60s. I've no idea if Ted is related to Robert - although if activity in the "Arts" is an indication, then it's probable. I'm so relieved you've retained your optimism - without it we are mere husks performing rituals. I'm optimistic that I'll kark it before the shit hits the fan.

Ah yes, happy endings. They're not as elusive as they seem - as long as we only want what's possible. As for the next story... I have severe doubts as to its suitability for young impressionable minds. But we'll see. .

Thanks, Timothy. Yes his explorations were indeed pivotal. I sometimes wonder if guys were less circumspect and leapt into genuine explorations earlier, when forming relationships, there might be fewer sad break-ups later on.

Thank you Gandalf - you are a Wizard of compliments.

Ten minutes later Frankie’s tale was done. Brief it had been, but nothing important omitted. László sat in silence while Frankie hoped he hadn't shocked him. Why he cared was something to be thought about later. He only knew it had been essential to be honest. After the debacle with Clarence and Violet he’d promised himself never to trust first impressions again, yet here he was again becoming involved with someone about whom he knew nothing. But this felt different. Didn’t Lucien feel different

Your imagination and memory do you great credit, Canuk. Your predictions are so very close - in an astronomical sense - that it is astounding! In the right hands - ah yes - thems loaded words. Define 'right'. The enormous, inescapable and insurmountable problem is, that 'good' 'nice' 'decent' people are not ruthless enough to ever accumulate enough money to make a substantial difference. Only mean, greedy, grasping, cruel, selfish sociopaths are prepared to do what it takes to accumulate the obscene amounts of money that will /could improve things. And we're too late - All the money is now concentrated in the hands of the few who demand endless war and consumption to keep the shekels pouring into their overflowing coffers. (Mmmm... Why do I feel as if I'm raving and repeating myself?)

Oh dear... I feel so guilty, Wesley. Now I don't dare post the next, and final chapter! I'm too nervous about what it will do to your tender psyche. Please say you forgive me!

First the monastery, and now this! Frankie's logical brain refused to accept the coincidence so it shut down and concentrated on escape before the fire brigade arrived, people noticed him, asked questions, then blamed him for arson and murder. Fuck!!! This was not a nice thing to have happened. Ignoring cuts and scratches, Frankie scrambled over the fence, the stream and the neighbour’s fence, paused among the trees to rub off the worst of the leaves, mud, blood and other detritus, then put on s

Yes, Wesley. It is a problem if you're in a new place. Frankie's problem is he just leaps into relationships without checking first - impatience is often a cause of problems, but then, as he is prone to say - he who hesitates is lost. It's difficult to know who to trust. Here internet investment scams and dodgy tradespeople cheat mainly older people out of billions of dollars a year. 'Trust no one', seems to be a sensible motto, but then you might end up lonely. 'Hope for the best and expect the worst' is a useful thought to hang on to. 'One good friend is worth more than an army of acquaintances', as Robert was advised nine books ago.

Thank you Okie, Yes - I imagine the thought of 'home' is sustaining him.

I think it was quick thinking and reflexes and strength rather than luck that got him out of this scrape. As it is now the summer solstice for you, and the winter for me, I can reveal that the answer to your questions and hopes is "yes".

Clarence, Violet and Inesh were wallowing in the shallows, staring at Frankie as he waded the last few metres. ‘Inesh, this is Frankie, he’s joining us for lunch,’ Violet announced as if she’d just won the lottery. Inesh stood and the two men shook hands. Inesh’s grip was hard and lean, like his body. His face expressionless. ‘How do you do,’ he said with magisterial pomposity. Frankie straightened perceptibly and with matching superciliousness replied, ‘How do you do.’ Two secon

Dear Canuk. Only pessimists have a chance of a happy life, so I hope I succeed. Pessimists understand that things could be better and don't have to spiral down into the worst possible scenario. Armed with a knowledge of human history, they don't hold out any hope of rational solutions to problems by those who want to lead us. Being thus aware of the slings and arrows of outrageous idiocy, they can build a bulwark against a sea of cupidity, and by careful preparation, avoid them. [Apologies to that Danish Prince]. I do agree about the mind numbing effect of these vast edifices. All the visitor can do is let the ambience either thrill or repel, and not bother to try to understand or make judgements. After all, the intention of all great religious monuments is to instil a mind numbing sense of exaltation and unquestioning awe, definitely not to stimulate intellectual debate. Oh ye of little faith! How can you even question Frankie's ability to overcome whatever befalls him? At least up till now. But I agree, things are looking decidedly sus.

You sense impending trouble because you are a sensitive fellow- a very rare breed. As for the darkness of humanity? I assure you, Wesley, I haven't even scratched the surface of that. I write tales of sweetness and light compared to the lives of many millions of 'real' humans. Do Unicorn farts smell nice? Don't all my stories have a happy ending? For some at least?

The bus was new, clean, and for those seated, comfortable. The driver took no risks and didn’t speed, so they managed to avoid the numberless carts, motorbikes, bicycles, other cars and pedestrians that appeared to pay little heed to road rules. Frankie enjoyed looking at the land, towns and people of the green foothills of the Western Ghats and was surprised at how quickly two hours passed. Suddenly they were in Nagercoil, about twenty kilometres east of Kanyakumari. After a twenty-minute stop

I imagine Lucien will have an unpleasant old age, friendless and miserable. Yes, Frankie meets nice guys, but none that 'tick all the boxes' necessary for him to embark on a permanent loving relationship. But I'm keeping my fingers crossed and who knows - that's if he survives, of course.

Ah yes - karma. Unfortunately the karma for people like him is to forever make miserable those around him while escaping the rotten fruits of his own behaviour. He'll die convinced he was a really nice guy and everyone else deliberately misunderstood him just to be unpleasant. I'm sure Frankie will find what he's looking for, if he ever really sets his mind to it and stops getting distracted by his quixotic urge to solve other people's problems. I am so please you find him interesting.

Absolutely - never judge a book by its cover.

Indeed - what can possibly go wrong - surely the guy has at last learned not to always trust his first impressions? He may be smart in an emergency, but a little more circumspection at the start would serve him well.

During the train journey back to Madurai and south to Kanyakumari, Frankie mulled over his weeks in India, astonished at how wrong his preconceptions had been. Instead of a degraded and worn out, chaotic land of ungovernably overcrowded cities and poverty stricken hordes of slum dwellers and peasants, he’d seen vast swathes of natural land and forests, apparently limitless supplies of water in rivers, streams and lakes – both natural and man made. And a population of apparently healthy, friendly