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Arthur stood at the gates and waited for the man to come. He was early today, keen to get started. He rubbed his hands together to stimulate the circulation and

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Alt 24.03.11, 12:07
Şebnem - ait kullanıcı resmi (Avatar)
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Üyelik tarihi: Sep 2006
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Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!Şebnem öyle bir şöhrete sahip ki kendinden önce namı yürüyor!
Standart My Beloved Edith

Arthur stood at the gates and waited for the man to come. He was early today, keen to get started. He rubbed his hands together to stimulate the circulation and peered through the railings. Finally, the man arrived and unlocked the gate. He pulled at the heavy iron frame and it slowly opened.
book.jpg
'Mornin' Albert, how are you feelin' today?'

'Lucky.'

'This could be the one, do you think?' the man enthused.

'Aye. Ah think ye could be right.' Albert smiled and the man returned to the gatehouse. Albert walked slowly up the driveway and then he stopped. He couldn't remember where he had finished yesterday. His memory wasn't what it used to be. He reached into his overcoat pocket and pulled out his map. He checked the last entry. John Macleod, 23rd September. That was three days ago. He'd either forgotten to update his list or he hadn't been at all.

'You're a bloody fool, Arthur.' He shrugged his shoulders. 'Oh well, I'll just have to start from Mr Macleod.' Using the map for guidance, he made his way to the desired plot and set to work.

After he'd finished a row, his hip started playing up. He sat down on a nearby bench and rubbed his leg.

'Time for a wee dram.' He thought. He unbuttoned his coat and removed a half bottle from the breast pocket of his suit. He took a couple of sips and replaced the cap.

'I better no drink too much of this,' he said, 'otherwise I'll get lost again.' Then he unwrapped his lunch. It was his favourite, a mutton piece with onion and mustard. As he chewed on his sandwich, he started thinking about the old days. Sometimes he could remember her quite clearly, her face right at the front of his mind, her eyes and mouth smiling at him. But then there were days when he could barely picture her at all. He had to write things down, but it was hard to do that all the time. Suddenly, he started to panic. He'd forgotten her name. This was his greatest fear.

Tom Gillespie

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