Bondwriter

A bittersweet short story I enjoyed. The fact that the pronoun "we" is used for a good part; the epiphany walking up the mountain, then the argument, this simple little episode that seems to be pinpointed as the beginning of the drifting apart. I don't know if this story intends to make a point, but I like the nostalgia and the joy mixed in it.

I thought they'd go at it again, but eventually it's quiet. First of all, a little description is in order. I live in a small two-story house, in what used to be a textile industry neighborhood. In the 12th century, they dried out the swamps in the valley and started building a village in the shade of the cathedral; well they built the cathedral around the same time. In the 18th century the small village saw the implementation of textile plants. So it became people with the plants' workers. It was a working-class neighborhood, that developed its lore and legends. Came the 70s, and the big textile crisis. All the plants got closed down one by one; my neighborhood had already gone into becoming a bit derelict for a few decades; it was the lair of crime, prostitution and drugs, and hence was rather ill-famed. In the 80s, the city council and some real-estate developers undertook to rehabilitate the place. It all started with a dock next to the river that saw bars and restaurants settling in. In ten years, the neighborhood got cleaned up. When the university got new buildings there, it became profitable to buy housing in order to rent it to students. Eventually it ended up being populated mainly with students. There were a few long-time residents left, whose families had lived there for three or four generations. Working class, but no longer working for the most part. Actually, there are villages a few miles from my city in which all the economy was based on the textile plant in which the problem is the same. The thing is, this left with people who for a wide part are uneducated. Here comes my neighbor from across the square. My house is at the end of a street that opens on a cute little square, that was re-cobbled ten years ago, so that the now numerous tourists coming to visit find the place quaint and cute. On the right side of the square, looking from my window, there's a narrow canal with houses built along. It's the back of the houses, the front opening on another street. So you have very small yards, the kind big enough to set a few chairs and a table and the occasional barbecue, when the weather allows, from April to October. In one of these houses, lives one of the diehard residents. Mid to late 20s, must be unemployed, got married a couple years ago (I remember the noise of the party), got a kid less than nine months later; I suspect him of dealing hashish, because of the odd visits he gets, but this isn't my point. A few years back, prior to his marriage, sometime in late April early May, I heard some party starting and the noise increased over the evening. Well, all wasn't lost, I wrote a song about it. An Evening Racket It

OK, just came to see what clever comment the BeaStKid made. I'm not disappointed by his witty, wordy reply.

This is the result of a collective effort, and credit should be given to people who may not be as active as they once were, but that got the ball rolling, though of course those who started it all and accompanied the site through its growing pains and have improved it steadily should be even more greatly thanked.

8% of the anthology entries had goats featured in them. I don't remember this happening in the previous one. If this is a trend, more than half of the entries two years from now will have goats in them. I actually learned something with this story, for I associated Voodoo more with chicken than with goats.

I volunteer Kevin, since he started the thread. As he hasn't come around too often (this thread at least), I suggest we just lure people into posting with his good looks, and do not inform him of our vile plans. The prize is a night with him, it doesn't have to include the trip. Unless anyone here works for an airline and gets discounted tickets.

A night with someone from the staff? A free stay at my place, with the awesome view on the 13th century cathedral, and the right to clean the dishes? An autograph from an author? There are plenty of incentives!

Conner's got his share of Internet erotica for the day with this lurid pic.

I wouldn't spill the beans, not to worry, don't want to spoil the fun for anyone, but I confirm you love cliff-hangers. More great chapters to come for Halloween 9, people. And it's nice to have an author/ editor thread, but we don't want to hijack it, so don't be shy and comment too, dear readers!

Ok, we will! But if we don't post regularly, the guests/ bots will have the ratio down fairly quickly.

I wondered about this too. The LVSD has chronically been understaffed, so my fist assumption was that it was a narrative trick to have less cops working on the case, but of course Thaddeus would be likely to be behind this "epidemic". He'd have much to gain to have the law enforcement unable to investigate, or even take action if there were things to smuggle out of the tunnel, like an illegitimate son. Provided the twerp is not far away already, since it was hinted at strongly by the author?

Another question: if two half-brothers, not knowing they're half-siblings, engage in a romantic relationship, it's incest, yes, but is it wrong? Can they go on, or does the social taboo linked to incest endanger their relationship?

Did you notice all the celebrity crackpots who ever claim they were reincarnated (no offense intended to all those who believe in reincarnation) always were Pharaohs and Viking princesses? But a real deity surviving a few millenniums, this would be interesting.

Happy Birthday! Now you're no longer underage, I can tell you you're VERY charming!

OK, I just spotted that the lounge had 1,999 topics. Since numbers are important, and that most members do not have their birthday every day, and do not post their 10,000th message either, I thought I'd open a thread for general greetings and rejoicing. So, pour your heart, thank the loved ones, scream out your joy, and let the world know GA's a great place to be!

Now that an author on the site had eventually managed to get us rid of Michael Myers permanently, you're going to revive Blackheart after his nice flight and his fall? To me it was understood he was out of the picture, permanently. A goat in a tight tie is needed before getting the barbecue going. These animals can escape, can't they? I hope you didn't spend all of your savings, but this is way worth the 300 bucks. So not only does CJ redefine the meaning of "lurker", but also this of "fashion-insensitive". Thanks for your investigation.

Eh! Eh! Watch out for the thread police. Guests, but also bots. And for instance, I clicked in and landed on the previous page, so I added one more count. But I got to read some interesting views on the anthology.

I actually discussed my anthology entries with my sister and my mom. The problem is that I'm sure my mom would love to read them, but I'd have to draft a vocabulary sheet along. And the first one (Goldilocks) still could puzzle her (young characters and a hint at tie-up activities). The biggest problem is my alias, actually. I'm out, and I told a couple years back to my parents that I wrote smut, but some of my fiction she could get to is super kinky, even when not overly sexual, and I don't want to have to explain. So I cannot give her the link! I think I'll do an effort and give the latest one to my mom, she might enjoy it.

Praising quality, good! The Goat did some decent posting, making comments that are to the point, speaking his heart in a debate, yet not blasting others with weighty arguments, never losing his patience with the Frosty One, ... Though CJames' lurking claims make me wonder about his sanity, no doubt your last wish will come true.

The names didn't bother me at all. However, a couple times, like with three or four sentences from "The Stranger With Many Names But None We Know For Sure", I really wondered why it had to be "old-time" speak. I should reread to pinpoint the exact sentences. My take is that whereas it's justified in the case of the translation with the intro, once I hit the story I want characters to speak ordinary language.

This was nothing half as bad as starving children. Not that none of this would happen in France, but though abuse occurs, and even malnutrition (more quality than quantity anyway), when you see people in distress, they're usually adults. Though the time I saw an ex-student from the school I worked in panhandling --I'd known him from ages 10 to 16-- and apparently inebriated at 10 in the morning, I had quite a shock. For the guys in the train, they could have been delinquent (petty thieves or something), but what struck me, compared to other "juvenile delinquents" you can meet, and who look like they don't give a crap, was they really looked scared when I saw them sitting in the train.

Wait until the cows come home. Ou quand les poules auront des dents. Ou quand les ch

Were I you CJ, I'd be quite pissed no one mentioned the quality of your posts, some even going to the extent of claiming they're four times less good than others'. Don't go on a CHAPTER posting strike, though. That would be quite Ericy. Benji, you're a man after my own heart! Welcome to the club! I hope the boys get in the tunnel, find Eric and accidentally reduce him to ashes ("Oops! Did I really get the flame thrower working by doing all that?")

Happy Birthday, Jamie! A year full of sweet things! (I know your name's not Stephanie, but just pretend! )