First Steps September 1959, Exeter Maximilian scrunched up his face with concentration and determination, his hands gripping the table top surface tightly and with a monumental effort, the infant pulled himself up off the floor and onto two rather unsteady legs.His father watched his progress with a certain bemusement. There had been a sort of wall between Jan and his only child, the paternal bond hadnt strengthened as it should have done, but he suddenly found himself taking a great deal of interest in the little ones progress, and he leaned forward slightly in his arm chair, intrigued.The toddler wobbled slightly, his bare feet pale against the living room rug, and it didnt seem as if there was enough strength in them to hold his weight. The little knuckles went white as he gripped the coffee table and then very slowly, Max sidestepped along until he reached the end. There was a distance of only a few feet from the end of the table to Jans armchair, but you cou
Best Served ColdTheres reason to fear the quiet ones; those who dont talk too much tend to do an awful lot of thinking instead. And since the brain is quite an unsociable character, most people would be chilled to discover what was really going through the mind of the quiet ones. Not always violent, not always perverted; rather more of a sly, underhand, critical frame of mind existed. They thought things about people that could never be voiced, to do so would be tantamount to assisted suicide. Not many egos would be able to bear the tongue lashing that could be administered by the quiet ones, not many would survive the assault. And if the quiet ones put into practise some of the deeds that they considered carrying out then the world would be a much darker place.This was why Rastislav should have feared his young nephew. The Russian was a brute by nature, he was cold and cruel and proudly malicious. He enjoyed crushing his inferiors under his heel; he loved watching them squirm helplessly.
All Alone All Along December 18th, 1970 Hed seemed fine up until then.He hadnt betrayed anything that dwelt inside his aching heart, hed pushed it down, forced his grief deep within himself and he had tried to think about it as little as possible. And up until then hed done quite well. Hed coped. Hed proven to himself that he was quite strong actually, and in a strange way he was almost proud of himself.But then that day came, and of course all his efforts had been for naught. Itd all become just too much to control, and he suddenly realised that actually he wasnt quite as strong as he hoped he was. And that day had only been the beginning; the terrible countdown to Christmas had begun and he doubted if he was going to last the whole of December the 25th without a few tears.Things had been bleak, lonely of course. And hed missed her so entirely; just the way she had always been there to look out for him, the way she ha
The Burden of Friendship June, 1951 I dreamt in memories last night.And while this is not an odd occurrence in itself, for I often revisit my memories to examine different points of view and clarify little intricate factors I may have forgotten, the rather perplexing aspect was how these dreams related to this evening. It was almost as if I had dreamt them on purpose, as if I knew somehow before hand that I would be once again severely reprimanded for my self discipline.Such little occurrences can almost make you doubt your faith, to believe in psychics and other such silly things. Perhaps it was simply some part of my sub-consciousness that was aware of Jans concern and it tried to prepare the conscious part of my brain for this evenings argument. It quite clearly did not do a very good job.I dreamt I was ten years old again, rebellious and impetuous, and I relived the day that I smashed the windows of my schools dinner hall. I had been dared to do it by my equally immature young