Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

CHAPTER 8
It got a little frantic for an hour or so, as people in leather, denim and woolly hats queued up to buy all sorts of things. I had never seen so many beards, even if some of them seemed to be grown more in hope than in substance, but there were smiles hiding behind most of them.

I heard two loud mechanical ‘thuds’ as Aleah threw the van into gear and rumbled down the GAT driveway. As we emerged onto the street I cast a wayward glance at Leina who was busying herself with her phone. I glanced at the screen silently but couldn’t make out what she was doing. I shrugged and looked toward the window, observing the world as it blew by.

“Do you want to ask me something?” Leina asked. I looked back, she’d set her phone on her lap, hands crossed over it, her gaze fixed directly on me.

“Okay,” Aleah sighed, pacing back and forth in front of the couch. Beside me I distinctly heard the sound of Kari flipping through her book, probably ignoring the world around her, as usual. “I hate to actually be productive today, but we need to find Audrey. We have…forty seven hours to get it done, so we need to think. What do we know about Audrey?”

“Oh, her favorite show is Power Rangers,” Leina interrupted. “She absolutely loves it. When we were kids playing pretend she would be the pink ranger.”

“And that didn’t raise any suspicion?” I stared at her.

Her fiancé long dead in Flanders, she never married, and childless she outlived all the others.

Despite Gilbert’s father undressing me with his eyes all the time, he keeps his hands to himself and I get on with him well enough. I certainly don’t object to his taste for long necked and skinny legged, thin chested females.

Santa’s Helper (Sexy!) With Boots : 1 / 6

An Altered Fates Story
By Iolanthe Portmanteaux

It was one of those cheap Halloween costumes, the type that’s sexy this or sexy that.
Sexy policewoman, sexy nurse, sexy maid, sexy devil. What they all had in common
was a short skirt to show lots of leg, a low neckline to show lots of cleavage, and
tight panties to show lots of... well, lots of those brightly-colored panties.

After all, this too’s just a story, a fable, a tale,
Best taken with salt, and whisky or ale.

This is a story of Discovery.

(For those of you who read Part 1 before, I’ve done some slight refinements to it, and reloaded it, so you might want to re-read it! Thanks, Cindy!)

Sandy Andros, of the Aero Airplane Company, has been working at Aero for about 5 years. Being 25, and not having lots of attributes of Maleness, like a big, muscled, hairy body, or having a beard to speak of, only being 5’6” tall, and a whopping 120 lbs, looks like, and is, a Geek. In fact, he looks a lot like Gillian Anderson, Agent Dana Scully of the FBI, despite being Male!
He is asked by several of the Women of his area to go to the Firms Halloween Party as Agent Dana Scully with someone else as Agent Fox Mulder, because there is a Costume Contest, and the girls think Sandy, and a handsome Fox duplicate will win!
Sandy finds out something new from this escapade! Can you guess what?

Tragedy lives with us all. As a child one rails gainst fate, but none can truly be considered adult till they have swallowed that bitterest of pills and learnt that one can not rewrite history. All one can do is learn to live with it. But none ever wholly does and therein lies the child in us all.

Every now and again memories from the distant past intrude on the present, especially those with no closure.
It happens to us all and leaves an incomplete hollow feeling of helplessness and inadequacy.

It doesn't take much to amuse me though the bleaker the better

Ja, ja! What a drinker! What a fighter!” Her voice softened, “What a lover!”

“You look shell shocked, Jamie. Glass of Talisker to help you over it?”

“Please.”