The Written Word Group

My  mother had taken me on my 18th birthday to a big city hotel. She was a good friend of Gregor the owner. We spent the day shopping.  Later that night as we watched a gigging blues band play. I was totally enraptured by Alex the bass player. I was touched by a nervous irrational excitement.  All sorts of emotional electric currents pulsated through my veins. I held onto my mother’s hands for fear of falling. The fever rush was extreme. Nausea, trembling, a rapid heartbeat, a sensation of being swept away into another reality. I met Alex after the gig, all alone. I had sent my mother back to the room. I shook when he touched.  Alex was tall, handsome and funny. Just about everything a young girl could wish for.  I was still experiencing the same trembling and rapid heartbeat. I knew this was love.  My mother confirmed it.  She held my head, pulling me in very close, “Susi my child, love strikes in the most unusual of places, and you must be quick to grab and hold onto it. Otherwise, y

                                                           “ Simon, we have had a complaint from Mr and Mrs Braithwaite room 11” “ Okay” “ Upon booking with us Mrs Braithwaite was very specific about her aversion to eggs.     Do you remember ?” “ Yes” “ Why then did you eat an egg prior to serving them dinner? Not only did you eat one but you leant over Mrs Braithwaite and there was egg yolk on your mouth and your breath smelt of eggs.” “ I didn’t realise.” “ The incident led her to have a panic attack. She lost control of her bladder and now we have a demand for a full refund of her stay and a dry cleaning bill. Having just been awarded the top hotel to stay for people with Simple Phobias, we cannot afford bad feedback or bad publicity. What do you have to say for yourself?” “ I thought she was pulling a fast one, trying to get special treatment. When I checked them in, Mr Braithwaite had a distinct sulphur like smell about him. How could Mrs Braithwaite be in close proximity to him i

                                                    When the invitation for the Phobia Convention dropped into my inbox, I was surprised to see it would be held at a Hotel in Leeds.  I wondered just how many would actually turn up? I just had to have help, so I registered online, paid my fee and, with my fear of heights, booked a ground floor room at the Hotel.  Also, my claustrophobia precluded using the elevator.  I checked into the Hotel on the said day, handing, my credit card to the Receptionist while wearing my surgical gloves.  She gave me an odd look as she passed me the room card and directed me to my accommodation.  I walked along the carpeted corridor until I reached…oh no…Room 13. I took a deep breath, slid the card into the slot and went in.  It was a standard budget room, adequate but nothing special. I was feeling hungry and as I had a couple of hours until the Convention started, called Room Service and ordered a ham sandwich and a pot of tea.  I unpacked my bag