A Unique Gift – Chapter 15

https://lapetitemort17.wordpress.com/?p=96

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly      Facebook: phicklephilly   Twitter: @phicklephilly

California Dreamin’ – 1982 to 1984 – Chapter 12 – San Diego, Ca – The Zoo

The next morning we get up and head to the Zoo. It’s a beautiful day and perfect for what we’re about to do. Parts of San Diego really are beautiful.

The zoo is amazing. I’m from Philly where we have the oldest zoo in the country, but this place is expansive and gorgeous. They have a great collections of reptiles and primates and I’m loving that. They even have moving sidewalks! Whaat?? It’s 1982! Have we been transported to the future?

We even see Shari Lewis they’re performing with Lambchop! (Google her youngsters!)

The San Diego Zoo is a zoo in Balboa Park, San Diego, California, housing over 3,700 animals of more than 650 species and subspecies.[1] Its parent organization, San Diego Zoo Global, is one of the largest[better source needed] zoological membership associations in the world, with more than 250,000 member households and 130,000 child memberships, representing more than a half million people.[6] The San Diego Zoo was a pioneer in the concept of open-air, cageless exhibits that re-create natural animal habitats.[7] It is one of the few zoos in the world that houses and successfully breeds the giant panda.[8] In 2013, the zoo added a new Koalafornia Adventure exhibit, providing an updated Australian animal experience. Another new exhibit, called Africa Rocks, opened in 2017.

It is privately moderated by the nonprofit Zoological Society of San Diego on 100 acres (40 ha) of Balboa Park leased from the City of San Diego, and ownership of all animals, equipment and other assets rests with the City of San Diego. The San Diego Zoo is an accredited member of the Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA) and the American Alliance of Museums (AAM), and a member of the Zoological Association of America (ZAA) and the World Association of Zoos and Aquariums (WAZA). San Diego Zoo Global also operates the San Diego Zoo Safari Park and the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research.

We’re walking around the zoo, and it’s the best zoo I’ve ever been to. A great time was being had by both of us but I think we’re already thinking the same thing.

“Frank, I gotta ask you something.:

“What’s up?”

“We’ve been here for a couple of days and this just doesn’t feel like the way I pictured it. It’s nice, and the zoo was fun, but I’m just not feeling it. I think I needed to land someplace mellow on the west coast just to feel it. I heard it was mellow and I was scared. I think we belong somewhere else out here. ”

“What do you want to do, mate?”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here tomorrow and go to L.A.”

“Alright then. Yea. This town seems kip.”

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly                                 Facebook: phicklephilly

Sabrina – Making the Connection

I get to Misconduct around 12:30. I say hello to Mary the hostess (See: Mary – 2016 to Present – Unexpected Table for Two) and go to my table which is number twelve.

We chit chat a bit and Sabrina rolls in around 1pm. We hug and she takes a seat. I’m happy to see her again. First time we ever hung out was yesterday, and now here we are again the very next day.

I get my usual chicken tenders and she goes with the burger. She tells me it may be the best burger she’s ever had. That’s a bold statement, but I can tell she loved it because she devoured the whole thing.

After lunch we move to a bigger table and I break out my box of business cards. They’re cards I have collected over the years from several bars and restaurants. I have loads of contacts in the industry and I want to help Sabrina get a gig as a part time server.

I start going through the cards and text some people. Sabrina is looking through the cards to to find some places she may want to work. She’s very grateful for the assistance and I’m happy to do it. I like helping people.

We go through them and I’m texting and emailing some people. I can she she’s stressed about this dilemma, but at least we’re taking action instead of just worrying about it.

People are getting back to me and she’s filled with hope. She leaves around 3pm and I tell her I’ll keep working on it. She gives me a hug and off she goes.

As people get back to me with leads and more, I push the information to Sabrina.

The next day we’re still texting and I tell her that my contact at Marathon has some news. He wants her to come to the restaurant at 10:30am tomorrow for an interview.

11:15am on Friday my phone rings. It’s Sabrina.

“I got the job! I start on Monday!”

“I’m so proud of you Sabrina! Well done! Anybody can help you get a job, but it’s you who has to keep it!”

“Thank you so much!”

So let’s recap. Monday she has a panic attack when they cut her hours at her regular job. Tuesday she contacts me for help. We have lunch, get to know each other, and assemble a plan. Wednesday we execute that plan at our second lunch. Thursday events happen. Friday she’s hired at a good restaurant.

Anything else I can do for you Sabrina?

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Sun Stories: Jill – From Jill to Jezebel

So we know our girl Jill is an alcoholic and can never drink again. She drank with Trish and went out of control. Not my problem, but became my problem when I had to work all of their shifts. They are both no longer with us at the salon.

Jill still frequents the salon and all is forgiven. As long as she pays, she’s back to being a client here. I’m glad she’s doing okay and staying sober. I don’t know what she’s like drunk and I don’t want to know. I’m sure it’s been hard for her working at a nail salon after being a stripper and an escort. Living in a halfway house for women with substance abuse problems and addiction can’t be a picnic. They have to sign in and sign out when they come and go. They’re all used to partying everyday so now they can’t and they’re all bored out of their minds. They have to attend AA and NA meetings everyday. They’re living with a bunch of alcoholics and junkies all at different levels of addiction and it’s got to be a brutal little prison for these ladies.

I had seen her earlier in the week and she came in with hot ex-heroin addict housemate, Sabrina who I’m planning on taking out on a second date for some sober fun. (See: Sabrina – 2017 to Present – The Challenge) I’m glad I had a chance to chat with Sabrina again because I’m trying to score some tickets to a show and take her to it. Jill tells me she’s stressed out at her job at her salon, and Sabrina is really stressed at her job as well. I have some fear for them both because stress causes people to re-offend.

It was a Saturday and I agreed to take the shift for Summer who had a family thing to attend. So technically I shouldn’t even been there. Jill comes in and tans just like she always does. It’s always nice to see her. She looks great. Tawny hair, red top, sheer in the front that showcases her ample cleavage, and skin-tight jeans.

When she finishes tanning it’s around 4pm. She tells me she’s going crazy and that she’s going to drink a half pint of vodka and just come back to the salon and chill out. I advise her against it. She tells me she’s going to think on it and may or may not stop back. She’s not angry, I can tell she just wants to feel the high and relax. She’s done it so long and become so destructive with her addiction that she has no coping mechanisms in place to ease her mind or occupy it now that she’s sober. Stress hits and she reaches for the bottle. Sadly for Jill there’s no alternative.

I say a little prayer for her and hope she just goes home or does anything other than that.

But Jill does come back to the salon around closing time. She seems fine. She’s just hanging out and chatting. Okay, everything’s fine. She’s sipping ice tea from a plastic bottle.

One of my beloved clients comes in and I’m happy to see her. Even though we’re about to close I don’t mind because this lady gave me a five-star review on Yelp. Yea, she can come in whenever she wants.

I’m chatting with her a little bit, joking that she came in late but because of the positive review I’m letting her step over the line. Jill hops into the conversation, which is fine. She and the client are chatting away like old friends.

I notice that Jill is more chatty and lively than usual. Is she drinking? Is there vodka in that iced tea bottle?

I send my client in to her session.  Jill suddenly wants to help me close up the salon. I tell her I’ve got everything well at hand. She’s very chatty and starts grabbing things to clean.

That’s the moment I smell the booze on her. I’m getting nervous. What is she going to do?

She can see that I’m on edge and tells me to relax. But I can’t help it. We all know what happened last time. Got black out drunk and kicked out of her halfway house. Thankfully, they let her back in. She says she’s just going to drink a half pint and then by the time she goes home she’ll be clean and no one will find out.

This lady is playing with fire. Phase one is her desire to drink overcoming her will to resist. Phase two is going to the liquor school and buying the half pint of vodka. Phase three is the over enthusiastic chatterbox. Phase four is the euphoria phase where she relaxes and leans into the soothing buzz. That’s where she is right now, and that’s where she should stay.

But they never stay on that level. The buzz levels off and they want that feeling again so what do they do? That’s right, they drink more and that’s when the trouble starts.

Against my stern warning about what will happen to her, off she goes to the liquor store again. She’s already polished off a half pint and I can see her starting to change. I hope she doesn’t come back. Based on her past drunken actions she shouldn’t be here in the salon like that.

My last client leaves and I close the door.

Sure enough Jill returns with another iced tea and I’m sure it already contains booze.  She goes into the fitness center inside our salon. There are big mirrors on the one wall and she’s primping and doing her makeup and listening to her music. I finish, close up the salon and punch out.

She asks me to join her in the gym. I sit down on one of the blocks we have in there. (I think you’re supposed to jump on them) She’s flipping her hair and taking selfies like a teenage girl.  She is clearly entering the next phase. She sits on my lap and forces me to listen to her music. Her demeanor has also changed, she is sounding more urban in her dialect and is starting to slur her words. (Think black stripper)

Jill is a hot lady and a former stripper and escort so she knows the moves. She starts giving me a lap dance. I am really nervous because I’ve never seen this side of her. I’ve only heard about it from other people and it’s like she’s become a different person.

She’s grinding her butt against my crotch. Then she’s kissing me, and the next thing I know my face is pressed between her breasts.

“I miss dancing so much!”

Here is this client and former employee giving me a lap dance in the tanning salon! I’m stunned, scared and aroused all in the same moment. I know it’s wrong but she has reverted back to a drunken slutty stripper that I know would let me fuck her right now.

But being the gentleman that I am, I make some excuse that I have to drop some papers off. I have had to make this excuse to her several times because she’s not listening to me. She is lost in her mind now. Just all over me, dancing and grinding on me.

As hot as she is right now, and as sexualized as she is, I’m resisting and really worried that this is the end for her. She’ll go do something crazy and get kicked out of her house and she’ll end up homeless. She keeps saying how we’re going to go across the street and we’re going to smoke cigars and drink whiskey at Ashton Cigar Bar. She’s out of control.

I keep telling her I have to go drop off the papers.  She ends up spilling the vodka/iced tea down the front of her. This happened when she was trying to drink it, so you can see how drunk she is now. It’s like I’m looking into the eyes of a completely different woman. She’s slurring, and staggering about. I finally get her to the door, and she drops the bottle on the floor. It was nearly empty and made of plastic. She’s pissed off and mad at me now because I didn’t have sex with her and take her out to destroy herself further.  Her last words to me were: “You couldn’t afford me anyway.” and off she went out the door. I am praying that she doesn’t fall down the steps, but am also relieved that she is off the property.

I’m pretty shaken by the incident, and wait a few minutes and mop up the floor. I dispose of all of the evidence in the dumpster out back and windex the mirrors she was leaning up against and touching while she was doing her sexy little dance for me. I give the place the once over and I think I’m good to go. I won’t mention this to anyone. But I will write about it here because the story must be told.

I lock up and head to the bar where I know my friend Prova works. (See: Prova – 2015 to Present – Glow of the Sun) Prova can see I am visibly shaken. I just tell her I’ve got some anxiety about opening the gym. She gives me a Manhattan and that settles the nerves. I just hope Jill is okay. But I’m scared for her well-being out there. She’s so lost in herself right now.

 

Epilogue

I get a text from Jill the next day around 1pm. “Sorry that I was acting crazy… That’s why I can’t drink.”

“No worries. Just glad you’re okay.”

She comes into the salon that week like nothing had happened. She tells me curfew is 12:45 on the weekends. So she did finally get back to her house around that time. She went straight to her room and fell asleep. So somehow she dodged a fatal bullet and no one knew she got blackout drunk. She calls the person she becomes drunk, Jezebel. Sounds fitting. I didn’t go into detail of what transpired between us because I didn’t want to embarrass her and I didn’t want her to remember any of it. She left me around 6pm Saturday and didn’t get home until 12:45. I asked her what she did for the six hours from when she left me.

“I have no idea.”

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Another Life – Chapter 15

I was supposed to meet Ron and Laurie at the Lion. My cousin wasn’t there yet. On the plus side, that gave me a chance to talk to Laurie. I started by apologizing again for Sam’s latest gaffes.

She had started phoning the apartment repeatedly, trying to reach me. Unfortunately, nine times out of ten, I wasn’t there – and one of my roommates had to answer the phone. Rose was assiduous about taking a message for me. She would leave a little note on my desk.

Laurie was 50/50. She would scribble me a message, if there was any paper handy, and she could find a pencil. Twice she left me cryptic messages on the wall. If not, she might remember three days later. Ronnie would chat with Sam, but couldn’t be bothered to let me know that she had called.

– “Why does he always ask about Tanya?” Sam wanted to know.

I told her my schedule – school and work – but she got impatient, and called even though she knew I wasn’t home. I apologized to Rose, and to Laurie.

– “Don’t worry about it.” she said.

– “I do worry about it.” I admitted. “I like Sam, and … there are lots of good things about her.”

– “Great sex?” Laurie wasn’t shy; that much I already knew.

– “Yeah. But … she’s completely different when it’s just the two of us, you know? Not so goofy, and she doesn’t do that annoying giggle …”

– “That’s messed up.” said Laurie. “Even when she’s at home?”

– “It’s worse when her sisters are around.”

– “I dunno, Joe. Not sure you can fix that one.”

– “What do you mean?”

– “Men’s fatal delusion. Guys think they can fix things. You’re a mechanic, right? Men think that if there’s a problem, you just get the right tool, and you fix it. But people aren’t like cars, or toilets. Well, some people are like toilets, I suppose …”

– “They deserve to be shit on?” I guessed.

– “Right. You’ve got a wounded bird, there, Joe. I don’t mean a mother bird, dragging her wing to lure you away from her nest. I mean an injured bird, with a broken wing, or something.”

– “I’m listening.”

– “Women think they can change their man. He cheated on his last girlfriend, but he won’t cheat on me. He hit me – but if I love him enough, I can change him.”

“Guys figure they can fix things. She has issues? I’ll be there for her, and we’ll turn this thing around.”

– “I don’t know, Laurie. That doesn’t sound like -”

– “Do you feel guilty, Joe? Like you should be doing something to make everything better?”

I couldn’t answer that. It was a little too close to where my head was at lately.

– “You’re a nice guy, Joe.” said Laurie. “Unlike that cousin of yours, who’s 45 minutes late. And Sam seems nice – when she’s not … you know, saying something bizarre.”

We ordered a second round.

“Do you know my sister? Jen?” asked Laurie.

– “I think I met her at the Christmas party. Last year’s.”

– “That’s right. Well, Jen’s got … issues. She keeps them under wraps pretty well. She’ll find a guy, fuck him, and get him hooked. Once he’s committed – that’s when she dumps all of her phobias and anxieties on him.”

“She makes the guy feel guilty if he doesn’t cater to her, and try to help her out.”

– “The guy doesn’t dump her?”

– “Once or twice. Jen’s pretty good at picking out the nice guys. You’d be surprised how often they stick around – and for how long.”

– “That doesn’t sound like Sam.” I said. “But I appreciate you worrying about me.” Laurie was just guessing, and trying to warn me to be careful. She was wide of the mark, though.

Except that … Sam had said that I was nicer to her than anybody else had ever been.

Laurie changed the subject – sort of.

– “So did you talk about this with your friend Eli?” I had told my roommates about Eli, and his uncompromising approach to the truth. They hadn’t met him yet, but they all found my stories about him incredibly funny.

– “Not really – none of the details. Three guesses what he said.”

– “Oh man.” laughed Laurie. “Tell the truth? How’s that working out for him?”

– “He’s still single, if that’s what you mean. And he has a mean bruise on the side of his face.”

Laurie and I had a few laughs. Ronnie never did show up that night.

 

https://lapetitemort17.wordpress.com/?p=397

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

Facebook: phicklephilly          Instagram@phicklephilly    Twitter: @phicklephilly

Sabrina – Good Morning

Sweet, lovely Sabrina text me this morning. It was a simple, “Good Morning.”

“Hi Sabrina!”

“Did I wake you? I need some positivity this morning.”

“No. What’s up, dear?”

“Just stressed about my job. The boss is never happy. I’m stressed about my ex. He’s pushing me to do things before I want to do them. I just feel like shit.”

“Can you meet for lunch today?”

Yes, I’m sure I can. What time and where?”

I had to work at the salon later, so I suggested noon at Locust Rendezvous. But she wanted to do a little later and not a bar that looks like a tavern. More of a lunch spot. (I should have realized this, based on her past with addiction and recovery.) I just wanted the $5 burger they have there. I secede and suggest Rachael’s at 12:30. She likes that idea much better. Racheal’s is my weekend breakfast spot. I love the food and the prices.

I get there and she appears shortly thereafter. She looks lovely as ever. We go up to the counter and order then return to our table. The place is quiet and this is the first time we’ve ever met outside of the salon. Technically our first date if that’s what this is.

Am I attracted to Sabrina? Of course. Do I care that she’s used heroin for 7 years and has been clean 8 months? No. I want her to be well and live a happy sober life. Do I care that she lived in a halfway house with Jill because she had to be sent there? Nope. She’s a nice lady that had a shitty marriage and got addicted to drugs. But she’s clean now and I like being around her. If I get bored or annoyed with her I’ll cool it. I’ve written about all of the crazy women that I used to hang out with and date in this forum. I only surround myself with good people now. I’ve cut off all of those people and I’m much happier and more calm for it. Jill, Kaja and Sabrina are all nice women that just made some bad choices, but I believe it’s never too late to change for the better. When I was with the crazies they were still in crazy mode. These good women have come out on the other side and hopefully for good.

At this point in my life I like spending time with people who are calm and nice. No more drama. I’ve had enough for two lifetimes. So many of the people who now live in the past and out of my head are just shitty people. I blame their lifestyle choices and their parents. I also love to work and my alone time, so I dig a lunch or a happy hour but beyond that…see ya!

Sabrina and I have a wonderful lunch. We’re chatting for the first time outside of the salon and we can really get to know each other. She’s telling me about her life and what’s been happening, but I don’t need all the details. We just glide across the surface. Marriage, divorce, kids, work. Just first date stuff for people who have ‘seen some things.’ Normally you should never talk about any of your ex’s on a first date, but I discover that she’s still married to her husband. I don’t care. They’re separated so they can date if that’s what they’ve agreed. Not my concern. She’s living in the house and he’s moved out. She’s gotten out of the halfway house because I’m assuming she did her time and stayed clean. Her husband is a contractor and she was a stay at home mom for 12 years. Oh, she has two kids. They live with Dad and she gets to see them on Saturdays. From what she’s told me he sounds like he’s being a dick, slacking on the house payments and utilities, and saying he doesn’t have any money. But Sabrina has access to all of the accounts. He’s not good at any of that, so she still has all the passwords. She can see that he’s spending hundreds of dollars out at the bars. So it’s all a pretty typical divorce mess.

In the State of Pennsylvania, if she stayed home for all of her twenties (She’s 32) The court will have to take that into account. He was the sole breadwinner while she had to forgo her career to raise the kids so dad is going to have to pay her alimony. So that’s good for her. He’ll also have to cash her out on the house, and divide up the assets. So it would really benefit her to begin divorce proceedings.

Recently the company she works for have cut the hours of some of the staff. Because some of their outdoor bars and beer gardens have closed for the season. This and her husband are really stressing her out. I’m afraid if she gets really stressed she could use again and then she’s back in a drug fueled world of shit.

“What are you looking to do?”

“I was thinking I could maybe get a job as a server.”

She knows that I have the hook up with a lot of the bars and restaurants around the city. She also knows that I’ve helped people get jobs. So she asks for my help.

“What are you doing tomorrow, Sabrina?”

“What are you thinking?” She smiles.

“I get my business cards for all of the bars and restaurants in the city. We get lunch at Misconduct. Then we go through the cards and I reach out to places we think are appropriate for you to work as a server.”

“I love Misconduct! I’ve only been there once! Yes! If you could do that and help me that would be wonderful!”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you!”

The sandwiches they served us were enormous. Delicious and fresh, but gigantic. I guess the average person that goes there and orders a sandwich wants to stuff their head with a king sized wad of meat. I want a sandwich like the ones my mom used to make. Something that has reasonable portions and I can get my mouth around to bite it. Not rip into a pile of meat like a jackal. I see that she could only eat half of her hot Rueben and I’m in the same situation with my roast beef. There is a half a sandwich left and it’s as big as one sandwich. I grab us a couple of to-go shells and we put our sandwiches in them and head out.

We walk east on Sansom and we’re chatting and come upon a homeless woman lying on a piece of cardboard on the sidewalk.

I bend down. “Would you like this fresh sandwich? It’s really good.”

The poor woman turns on her side and starts opening the container. “Thank you.”

We continue walking down the street.

“You’re my kind of guy.”

“That’s a woman lying in the street. I had to do it.”

“I could cry. I can feel my heart.”

We agree again on tomorrow and I tell her to take a deep breath and just know it will all work out. She hugs me and thanks me for everything.

I watch as she walks north on 18th street and admired her beauty. Wow. First date. She reached out to me and made it happen. Got to know each other and good energy flowed. Second date is tomorrow and maybe I can help her find a part-time job. Fed a homeless person and impressed her.

Sometimes all it takes to get the ball rolling are the words:

“Good Morning.”

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly        Facebook: phicklephilly

Murder Mystery Weekend – Chapter 16

We both laughed. I had spent almost all of my freshman year with a mad crush on Sheila. She resolutely kept me at arm’s length, despite the obvious attraction between us. Well, obvious to me, at least. Once I accepted her decision, we became solid friends. We could flirt, and laugh at ourselves.

“You’re good.” I said.

– “C’mon: tell me one secret. I’ll tell you one in return.”

– “Deal.” I said. This is exactly how these games work. You have to trade information to gain information. But which clue to give her? “How about this: there was a plot afoot, to rescue Redbeard.”

Sheila made a face. “Already knew that. Were you a member of Redbeard’s crew?” she asked, suddenly.

Shit – could she be the Falcon? I didn’t know whether to trust her or not. So I answered a question with a question with a question. “Are you?”

– “I asked you first. Oh, c’mon. Give me something, Colin.”

– “I know one of the letters in the code for the treasure map.” I said.

– “So do I.” she admitted. “But I’m not sure if I’m ready to trade that.”

– “OK.” I told her. “Here you go: The Falcon is aboard. One of Redbeard’s old lieutenants.”

Sheila mulled that over for a moment. “That’s fair. Are you the Falcon?”

– “No. Are you?”

– “No.” she laughed. “All right, you actually gave me something. Not much, but something. You can have this in return: the Scar is also aboard.”

I decided to play dumb. “Who is the Scar?”

– “You don’t know? The Scar is another of Redbeard’s lieutenants.” she said.

– “Oh. So we have a ship full of his former crew. Are you the Scar?” I asked.

– “That’s a separate question.” she replied, with a grin. “What will give me for the answer?”

– “A kiss?” What the hell; it was worth a shot.

Sheila laughed. “Nice try. You can get me a drink, though.” She held up her empty wine glass.

– “Am I allowed to go upstairs yet? I don’t think it’s been half an hour yet.”

– “So crack open another bottle.” she said. “They’re right behind you.”

We drank some more, and she fenced with me, alternating between flirty and coy. We also discussed the other players, and aired our suspicions of who was the most likely murderer. After a while, I decided to gamble. I showed her the pirate recognition signal.

– “What is that for?” she asked, intrigued.

– “The recognition signal for Redbeard’s crew. It’s how they’ll know each other.”

– “So you’re one of them?” said Sheila.

– “Craig showed it to me earlier, and told me what it was.” I answered. This way, Sheila could not be sure: she might think that I was not a pirate. But I could tell that she was very pleased with that piece of information. For one thing, she asked me to show her the signal again.

– “Alright, then. I’ll give you something in exchange.” she said. “If you’re looking for the treasure, there are twelve letters to find.”

That was very useful. I had assumed that since I had one letter, that everyone else had one, too. Eleven of us. So there was an extra letter.

– “You still don’t want to trade letters.” I asked.

– “Not yet, Colin. I still don’t know whose side you’re on. But if I want to trade, I’ll find you.”

Both of us were caught by surprise when we heard the bell ring. Four times.

– “That was an hour?” I said.

– “An hour well spent.” said Sheila. She gave me a kiss on the cheek. Then we went off to our next stations. I was supposed to be in the crow’s nest – the deck outside the kitchen, overlooking the patio.

 

https://lapetitemort17.wordpress.com/?p=288

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Facebook: phicklephilly       Instagram: @phicklephilly       Twitter: @phicklephilly