《The 8th Day》Chapter 20.1: As We Both Awaken
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Author's Note: The following describes the morning's events as our intrepid hero awakens the next morning, and is here to illustrate the difficulties that occur between two people stuck in the character's positions. You can freely skip this sub-chapter if references to the human condition known as *sex* is bothersome or embarrassing to you.
Waking up as the sun first came through the windows the next morning, I was quite embarrassed to see that Little Bud had awoke and was stretching and looking around before me. Luckily, as I looked around with cheeks flush from shame, I saw Isabella was still sitting cross-legged in the floor under the emergency lights like she had been when I’d drifted off to sleep. Thank goodness, it seemed like she was still wrapped up in reading and hadn’t noticed. How’s a guy supposed to live something like that down, for goodness’s sake? Making certain that she couldn’t see me, I eased up off the couch and quickly turned my back to her and then I speedily waddled into the bathroom to take care of “morning business”.
“Good morning,” came her bright and chipper voice, “I’m glad you’re awake! I’ve got a lot of things to tell you about!” Isabella came bouncing right through doorway on into the bathroom , and giggled as she caught me sitting on the toilet, bunched up wad to paper in my hand, and Little Bud standing tall as if to say, “Good morning to you too!”
“Umm.. Ah… Uhhh…” The flush that was burning my cheeks was getting hotter and hotter, and Isabella simply stood there and then giggled at me. One of those really light “Oh my God! What am I seeing?!” type giggles, that every man just knows deep in their soul is directly completely at them.
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Without missing a beat, Isabella sat down at the doorframe, facing in my direction and said, “Don’t mind me. I’ll talk while you finish whatever you need to. Really, I’m too excited to wait!”
“First, I got to tell you what all I learned! You’ll never guess what all this little book talks about…
“GET OUT!” My shame and embarrassment was too great and I couldn’t stand it any longer. I tore the whole roll of toilet paper off the wall mount and tossed it at her. “OUT! OUT! OUT!”
Izzy hopped up, giggled like mad, and rubbed her head where the roll had hit here and quickly bounced into the main lounge area again.
“AND… AND… AND SHUT THAT DOOR BEHIND YOU!” I could hear a burst of heavy laughter as the door swung shut with a resounding bang, and I was left sitting on the toilet in the pitch dark. I hadn’t thought to turn the light switch on when I’d came in here this morning.
And the idiot who got me into this mess? Little Bud?
He didn’t seem to care at all about anything. He was still happily standing and stretching and HE didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed or ashamed of himself.
Me, on the other hand?
I just wanted to die. Even the burning hellfire of rebirth in an hour wouldn’t be so bad, compared to the rushing heat I felt in my face and cheeks. It’s official: I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life!
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Old Riding Author Lunatic Asylum
Just off the A19, in the dark, incomprehensible lands known as Yorkshire, there lies a town. A town where shadow-silent alleys glint with the secret hunger of knives. Where blood soaks the chipboard window shutters of forsaken terraces stretching off into the night. Where the smog-choked air rattles with the depraved laughter echoing out from clubs that can only generously be described as post-apocalyptic. Well, that’s Middlesbrough. But down the A19 a bit (an impossibly long way down, actually) there lies another town: Raughnen, in the ancient, forgotten Old Riding. It is an equal match in muggery and thuggery alike. It also has magic spells and pointy wizard hats. And now, across the miles and across all sensibilities, a pretty nasty power (a magic one) calls out for its pretty nasty counterpart (a decidedly unmagic one): a proper sound Boro lad. Nothing good can come of it. This is a collection of one novella and four connected short stories: I. A Yorkshire Summoning II. Old Riding Day Trip (the novella) III. Heaven is a Parmo IV. Death on the 66 V. Death on the 257 In total, this comprises 34 chapters totalling around 35,000 words, so try not to worry. It will be over relatively quickly. There are three more short stories with more tenuous links to the core collection: Rush, Paper Round and Scenario 79: Sausage Fingers, all of which can be found in my collection Short Records of Misadventure. Reading these may allow you to make more sense of certain parts of the story, if any sense is to be made at all. NOTE: There are instances of prejudice and discrimination within these stories, including elements of sexism and ageism, which are purely the thoughts and actions of the characters involved and which certainly do not reflect my own views on these matters. ANOTHER NOTE; A WARNING, PERHAPS: This can get a bit weird. In less than 150 pages, we have four viewpoints, first and third person narratives, and a completely disjointed plot with lots of gaps, dead ends and no real resolution. Also ZERO lunatic asylums. It's all a bit odd. If that sort of thing isn't your cup of tea, which it most likely isn't, it might be best to move on now.
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