she heard something in teh bushes and ran to check it out?

Out of the bushes popped a white rabbit with a drink, dressed in tye-dye wearing sunglasses and a bandana. Somewhere Iron butterfly was playing...shifting quickly to Jefferson Airplane...."What goin on, Kooky lady?" The rabbit slirred while looking for something on the ground...."Dang....windowpanes...."he muttered before she could answer.

Tuesday: yea window panes"

Tuesday:
well they are not really just ordinary window panes. They are the the gateway to a new dimension and if you step on one there is no telling where you will end up!

The rabbit chuckled, "New ways of bein one with the universe, maaaaaan" and finally found the keys to his blue volkswagon bus...covered in painted flowers.

The girl jumped onto this strange hog, whilst looking over her shoulder at the ogre running behind her, they ran thorugh some mysterious cloudy substance, and she then found herself playing a real live game of snakes and ladders, when she saw a giant anaconda staring right at her..

as the mysterious woman drove she realised that the tires of the bike were plowing through the pavement, the trees were whispering, and the side mirrors twisted her reflection like she was in a funhouse....on the bike was scratched"Albert Hoffman was here"

the girl needed a to roll a 6 to win teh game, and then she could choose which dor to go through, 1,2 or 725865..she rolls and

It was Christmas Eve 1977, when my platoon was sent to Bethlehem to help calm
the unrest that had started a week previous. The thought of policing demonstrators
disturbing worship at the Church of The Nativity was not something we were looking
foward to...
let the local cops or military police handle it. It was not the first
time we were assigned such duty, twice before we were sent into the Rafah refugee
camp in the Gaza Strip, so we knew what to expect.
To our surprise things went smoother than we anticipated and with the help of
the local clergy, we were able to disperse the crowd without firing a shot.
As things quieted down, we allowed the worshippers to enter the church. It was
close to midnight and we were about to return to our base.
As I exited the church, I bumped into a nun, knocking her down.
I extended my hand, apologizing as I helped her to her feet. She was black and
from her accent I could tell she was British. As she thanked me, she smiled and
I looked into her eyes. I stared at her amazed...her eyes were dark brown, but
what gripped me was the light in them. I had never seem anything as wonderful as
that light. It was love, joy, compassion...understanding.
Embarrased, I broke my gaze and lowered my eyes, now fixing on the cross that
hung from her neck.
"That is beautiful!" I said.
She reached down and removed it from around her neck..
"Here" she said, extending her arm, offering it me.
"No, I cant take that" I said, my eyes now fixing on her's again.
She then took my left hand, put the cross in it closing my fingers, still holding
my hand in her's she told me.."G-d wants you to have this". I was instantly
aware of a warmth washing over me, and could not speak as she nodded, walking
past me into the church. I looked down, opening my hand I looked again at the
cross's simple beauty. I put it in the left pocket of my parka, zipping it while I
trotted to the truck that would take us back to base.


Just over a month had passed. It was Friday, I had finished my medical training
as a squad medic and had recieved my transfer orders. I was packing to go home
for the weekend when i heard the news..a busload of tourists traveling the coastal
route had been attacked by Mr. Arafat's PLO. All 30 plus of it's passengers were
killed as the terrorsts blew themselves up, praising Allah no doubt.
When all leaves were canceled, I kinda knew what was coming next.
Growing tiresome of the continuous rocket attacks on it's northern settlements
from within Lebanon, the Israeli government was looking for an excuse to widen
it's "buffer zone" in the southern part of that country.
An area occupied by the Lebanese Christian Militia, it extended from the Mediterranian
Sea to the Syrian border and was supported completely by the Israeli Govt.
Every weapon, tank, uniform, rations and even salaries were subsidized by Israel.
It was in their best interest to do so.
And so, that friday night my unit was mobilized..sent north to await further orders.

~aN eXcERpt fROm My MeMoiRz~

sLaMdAnCe:
Fascinating! Thanks for sharing!

Mousetrap: mORe to cOMe..

Three days.
For three days we sat and waited.
The rain was relentless...so much so, that we knew we were'nt going anywhere just yet.
After all..nothing favored good warfare like fair weather.

Three damn days I sat and waited.
So many thoughts running through my mind...
The first, and in retrospect the least important, was mom.
Mom would be worried.
She expected me home this weekend, and no doubt seeing the news, was gonna think the
worst and freak.
The next..actual warfare.
Would I lose it?
Would I prove to be a coward?
No.
I was sure.
That wasn't me.
And finally..if needed, would I actually remember any of my medical training??
That was the one thought that pulled at me.
I could die for my country and what I believed in, but the thought of one of my
mates dying in my arms because I, the medic, couldn't remember what to do to
help, tormented me.

I was the worst in my class.
I had failed every written exam in the course.
Having Hebrew as my second language made it difficult for me, but that was
irrelevant to my instructors.
I was informed that if I didnt achieve a 90% or higher in the final practical exam..
Triage, I'd fail the course and have to start over.

I finished 2nd in my class with 97%.

The briefing.
At last we were to find out what our mission was.
They made it sound like a walk in the park.
Two weeks max.
We were going in to widen the zone.
Take a couple of hostile villages, let the Militia occupy them and pull out.
No big deal.
They called it "Operation Litani".

The rain had stopped that evening and at 3:00 am the next morning 5,000 of us crossed
the border into Lebanon.

~2nd eXcErPt fROm My MeMoiRz~

sLaMdAnCe:
Again thanks for sharing, its rare we get insigh to what happened like this.

Mousetrap: I want more!!

Man.. have you ever thought of getting that published slam.. seriously

I am confused. Which story(s) are the story tags?

sLaMdAnCe: fascinating, Slam. Thank you.

Skyking: Follow what Tuesday started ~ that is the current storyline ~ taking an interesting turning.
As for your own ~ more of that please.

sLaMdAnCe: what time is the next instalment?

later 2day

Confused, yet grateful the woman peered directly into the "hollow" eyes of Amelia, recognizing the unexpected gift she'd just been given...a reprise from a possible impending demise! With a gentle smile, she reached out to touch her "stand in" touching only air...confused and her breath coming in short gasps, she turned to walk away but couldn't without looking back one more time at the seeming apparition that had given her a reprieve.

As she did, she could only freeze in place, feeling a welling up of disbelief and unbelievable fear. She wished to turn and flee but her feet felt as tho they were stuck in quicksand! Where Amelia had sat, there were only cob webs and skeletons, looking her way and mocking her. With her head spinning and heart pounding, she found herself screaming, but no sound was heard.

In terror she realized she was running through a mist so thick she couldn't see her hands in front of her, and her whole body was tangled in cob webs. Twisting and turning to loose herself, she had no idea whether she was fleeing to safety or to harm. She only knew she had to attempt to find a way out of this horror scene!

Tears or fears, angels hypodermic.

ughaibu: ?? or is is a new twist to the current storytag? Or new one altogether?

ughaibu: The young angel sat crying, a hyperdermic lay broken on the floor.
As she sobbed, shaking and trembling with fear, a shadow appeared at the window.

Mad April Hare: iT wAs tHa MoNkEy oN hIs bACk...aKa, sAtAn.

ughaibu: The angel looked up at the huge shadow.
'Come, child. Do not be afraid' said the Shadow. 'Spread your wings and take a gentle flight with me. Let me take you away from here.'

A little ~ Just noticed darksideclown. Good to see you back on-line old chap.

Mad April Hare: thanks glad to see you here to the clown

darksideclown: He's providing a taxi service for his daughters again so I doubt he will be back tonight.

It was Christmas Eve 1977, when my platoon was sent to Bethlehem to help calm
the unrest that had started a week previous. The thought of policing demonstrators
disturbing worship at the Church of The Nativity was not something we were looking
foward to...
let the local cops or military police handle it. It was not the first
time we were assigned such duty, twice before we were sent into the Rafah refugee
camp in the Gaza Strip, so we knew what to expect.
To our surprise things went smoother than we anticipated and with the help of
the local clergy, we were able to disperse the crowd without firing a shot.
As things quieted down, we allowed the worshippers to enter the church. It was
close to midnight and we were about to return to our base.
As I exited the church, I bumped into a nun, knocking her down.
I extended my hand, apologizing as I helped her to her feet. She was black and
from her accent I could tell she was British. As she thanked me, she smiled and
I looked into her eyes. I stared at her amazed...her eyes were dark brown, but
what gripped me was the light in them. I had never seem anything as wonderful as
that light. It was love, joy, compassion...understanding.
Embarrased, I broke my gaze and lowered my eyes, now fixing on the cross that
hung from her neck.
"That is beautiful!" I said.
She reached down and removed it from around her neck..
"Here" she said, extending her arm, offering it me.
"No, I cant take that" I said, my eyes now fixing on her's again.
She then took my left hand, put the cross in it closing my fingers, still holding
my hand in her's she told me.."G-d wants you to have this". I was instantly
aware of a warmth washing over me, and could not speak as she nodded, walking
past me into the church. I looked down, opening my hand I looked again at the
cross's simple beauty. I put it in the left pocket of my parka, zipping it while I
trotted to the truck that would take us back to base.


Just over a month had passed. It was Friday, I had finished my medical training
as a squad medic and had recieved my transfer orders. I was packing to go home
for the weekend when i heard the news..a busload of tourists traveling the coastal
route had been attacked by Mr. Arafat's PLO. All 30 plus of it's passengers were
killed as the terrorsts blew themselves up, praising Allah no doubt.
When all leaves were canceled, I kinda knew what was coming next.
Growing tiresome of the continuous rocket attacks on it's northern settlements
from within Lebanon, the Israeli government was looking for an excuse to widen
it's "buffer zone" in the southern part of that country.
An area occupied by the Lebanese Christian Militia, it extended from the Mediterranian
Sea to the Syrian border and was supported completely by the Israeli Govt.
Every weapon, tank, uniform, rations and even salaries were subsidized by Israel.
It was in their best interest to do so.
And so, that friday night my unit was mobilized..sent north to await further orders.



Three days.
For three days we sat and waited.
The rain was relentless...so much so, that we knew we were'nt going anywhere just yet.
After all..nothing favored good warfare like fair weather.

Three damn days I sat and waited.
So many thoughts running through my mind...
The first, and in retrospect the least important, was mom.
Mom would be worried.
She expected me home this weekend, and no doubt seeing the news, was gonna think the
worst and freak.
The next..actual warfare.
Would I lose it?
Would I prove to be a coward?
No.
I was sure.
That wasn't me.
And finally..if needed, would I actually remember any of my medical training??
That was the one thought that pulled at me.
I could die for my country and what I believed in, but the thought of one of my
mates dying in my arms because I, the medic, couldn't remember what to do to
help, tormented me.

I was the worst in my class.
I had failed every written exam in the course.
Having Hebrew as my second language made it difficult for me, but that was
irrelevant to my instructors.
I was informed that if I didnt achieve a 90% or higher in the final practical exam..
Triage, I'd fail the course and have to start over.

I finished 2nd in my class with 97%.

The briefing.
At last we were to find out what our mission was.
They made it sound like a walk in the park.
Two weeks max.
We were going in to widen the zone.
Take a couple of hostile villages, let the Militia occupy them and pull out.
No big deal.
They called it "Operation Litani".

The rain had stopped that evening and at 3:00 am the next morning 5,000 of us crossed
the border into Lebanon.


The APV was cold.
Creeper cold.
The kind of moist windy cold you can't defend yourself against.
Gets under all your layers.
I cupped my hands and blew into them as I looked around the interior of the vehicle.
Eight of us.
Half my squad, bunched up along with our gear,plus
the driver and the Mac..vehicle commander, the Sarge who manned the .50 Calibur.
The other half of my squad was in the vehicle behind us.
I unzipped the pockets of my parka and thrust my frigid hands into their depth.
My left hand felt a foreign object.
The Cross!
The one from Bethlehem.
I rubbed my fingers around it and felt a strange warmth.
I smiled.
I had not realized my unease until I felt the calm that now washed over me.

As we rumbled on I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and wondered at what was to come.

parts..

sLaMdAnCe: worth the wait. Thank you, Slam.

can't you make it so you dont have to be rated ot play? i can never enter cos i havent got a rating

One day a young lad named Tom opened the door to the Kingdom to get what he wanted...A 10 speed bike to replace the one he ran into a ditch a while ago. What he got was broken roller skates instead...

When mummy was little she wouldent stop pushing buttons one day mummy was at a doctor who exhibition and found abutton now you know her she pushed the button and a great big dalek popped out it scared her so much she never pushed a button (unless she knew what it did) again!

Winnie:
when LSA was little he wandered off in Sainsbury's. While we were looking for him he was at the main entrance playing with the alarm setting and managed to close the main doors!
On a different occaision Ciminod pressed the red alarm button behind the check out girl on the next til to where I was packing shopping and set the alarms off.

We still need another 5 players if anyone is interested in joining in.


N & C's Needle Match

Arnold Toynbee (died 1975)

Henry James (died 1916)

http://www.eduplace.com/tales/

Thornton Wilder

We all know what it's like to get that phone call in the middle of the night. This night's call was no different. Jerking up to the ringing summons, I focused on the red illuminated numbers of my clock. Midnight. Panicky thoughts filled my sleep-dazed mind as I grabbed the receiver.

"Hello?"

My heart pounded, I gripped the phone tighter and eyed my husband, who was now turning to face my side of the bed.

"Mama?" I could hardly hear the whisper over the static. But my thoughts immediately went to my daughter. When the desperate sound of a young crying voice became clearer on the line, I grabbed for my husband and squeezed his wrist.
"Mama, I know it's late. But don't...don't say anything, until I finish. And before you ask, yes, I've been drinking. I nearly ran off the road a few miles back, and..."

I drew in a sharp shallow breath, released my husband and pressed my hand against my forehead. Sleep still fogged my mind, and I attempted to fight back the panic. Something wasn't right.

"And I got so scared. All I could think about was how it would hurt you if a policeman came to your door and said I'd been killed. I want...to come home. I know running away was wrong. I know you've been worried sick. I should have called you days ago, but I was afraid...afraid..."

Sobs of deep-felt emotion flowed from the receiver and poured into my heart. Immediately I pictured my daughter's face in my mind and my fogged senses seemed to clear. "I think--"

"No! Please let me finish! Please!" She pleaded, not so much in anger, but in desperation.

I paused and tried to think what to say. Before I could go on, she continued, "I'm pregnant, Mama. I know I shouldn't be drinking now...especially now, but I'm scared, Mama. So scared!"

The voice broke again and I bit into my lip, feeling my own eyes fill with moisture. I looked at my husband who sat silently mouthing, "Who is it?"

I shook my head and when I didn't answer, he jumped up and left the room, returning seconds later with the portable phone held to his ear.

She must have heard the click in the line because she continued, "Are you still there? Please don't hang up on me! I need you. I feel so alone."

I clutched the phone and stared at my husband, seeking guidance. "I'm here, I wouldn't hang up," I said.

"I know I should have told you, Mama. But when we talk, you just keep telling me what I should do. You read all those pamphlets on how to talk about sex and all, but all you do is talk. You don't listen to me. You never let me tell you how I feel. It is as if my feelings aren't important. Because you're my mother you think you have all the answers. But sometimes I don't need answers. I just want someone to listen."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at the how-to-talk-to-your-kids pamphlets scattered on my nightstand. "I'm listening," I whispered.

"You know, back there on the road, after I got the car under control, I started thinking about the baby and taking care of it. Then I saw this phone booth, and it was as if I could hear you preaching about people shouldn't drink and drive. So I called a taxi. I want to come home."

"That's good, Honey," I said, relief filling my chest. My husband came closer, sat down beside me and laced his fingers through mine. I knew from his touch that he thought I was doing and saying the right thing.

"But you know, I think I can drive now."

"No!" I snapped. My muscles stiffened, and I tightened the clasp on my husband's hand. "Please, wait for the taxi. Don't hang up on me until the taxi gets there."

"I just want to come home, Mama."

"I know. But do this for your mama. Wait for the taxi, please."

I listened to the silence in fear. When I didn't hear her answer, I bit into my lip and closed my eyes. Somehow I had to stop her from driving.

"There's the taxi, now."

Only when I heard someone in the background asking about a Yellow Cab did I feel my tension easing.

"I'm coming home, Mama." There was a click, and the phone went silent.

Moving from the bed, tears forming in my eyes, I walked out into the hall and went to stand in my sixteen-year-old daughter's room. The dark silence hung thick. My husband came from behind, wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the top of my head.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks. "We have to learn to listen," I said.

He pulled me around to face him. "We'll learn. You'll see." Then he took me into his arms, and I buried my head in his shoulder.

I let him hold me for several moments, then I pulled back and stared back at the bed. He studied me for a second, then asked, "Do you think she'll ever know she dialed the wrong number?"

I looked at our sleeping daughter, then back at him. "Maybe it wasn't such a wrong number."

"Mom, Dad, what are you doing?" The muffled young voice came from under the covers. I walked over to my daughter, who now sat up staring into the darkness. "We're practicing," I answered.

"Practicing what?" she mumbled and laid back on the mattress, her eyes already closed in slumber.

"Listening," I whispered, and brushed a hand over her cheek.

The Bronte Parsonage Museum