What is best for you_Greed_ If The Fates Were Kind_Waving at Trains
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What is best for you
A door closed and Ash looked up at the long haired Oliver who just walked in. “Hey Oli, you have rounds tonight don’t you? I really need to get out and stretch my legs.” Oliver hung up his sweater and although not facing him, Ash could feel the eye roll. “Why are you so obsessed with going out there? You’re the only one who likes going out and who refuses to use drones for your rounds.” “So what you’re saying is ‘Yes, I do have rounds and would love to let you go in my stead my dear Ash’ right?” Ash said with a face growing in brightness. The corner of Oliver’s mouth twitched upwards as his...
Greed
My roots were, and have always been, planted on the island of Ruderic. A very small cwww.onedoor.ccorner of paradise, hidden away in the thousands of islands of the Philippines. Here, the sun was abundant and seemingly a key role in our existence. This was made clear to me come the rainy season where I felt wilted and depressed with little to no activity on my part. Others, though, were not affected as me. Others flourished, thrived and grew. Things seemed to come back to life for many as I sagged in a sort of darkness, only waiting for the clearing sky and the sun to shine on my body once again. My roots...
If The Fates Were Kind
28th of January 2020 Time never makes haste when one wishes it to. It has a nasty habit of dragging on interminably, filling those who wait for something with impatience and in tragic cases, with hopelessness. There is nothing anyone can do to alter its relentless course. Praying, begging and stressing over it will gain you nothing, for time is its own master. So, the only option left is to distract yourself, with mind-numbing games and fruitless hobbies, from the ongoing chase between the past and the future. He paused his train of thought and resumed counting the cracks...
Waving at Trains
Every Sunday morning, Dad drove twenty-six miles to join his fellow steam enthusiasts at the Cansley Light Railway. They worked all day, taking engines apart and putting them together again while the rest of the world cut their grass, watched the telly or went to church. Some brave souls attempted all three, though rarely simultaneously. Then he drove twenty-six miles home again. Grandma said he must have been born with engine oil running through his veins, although he didn’t get it from her. He cut and bruised himself regularly during these outings. It was, he said, an occupational hazard, ...