The Written Word Group

The house had an unusual setup. As you entered, a long corridor led to spacious bedrooms on each side. The formal dining room, reserved for special occasions like birthdays and Christmas, was next to the master bedroom. But the kitchen, where we ate every day, was in the huge basement. It was the size of the entire upstairs combined. I remember it being dark and dingy with no windows, so the lights were always on. I was the kind of girl who had to go to bed when I felt sleepy, or I would fall asleep wherever I was. Sometimes I'd fall asleep while drinking my tea during "*la once," and I'd wake up when my nose touched the cold tea in the saucer. That particular evening, Mom prepared supper later than usual, and it was past my bedtime. "Girls, supper is ready; come downstairs," Mom called out. I was sleepy and went downstairs with great difficulty. I wasn't feeling hungry; I only wanted to be in bed, but Mom insisted that I eat my food first. ...

        Rod and Annie had bought the old house because of its location, that is what everyone said these days.   Location was the key to finding the perfect house for you.   It was a bit too big for just the two of them, having five bedrooms, but they were still young so would have the room when they decided to start a family.   No!   The main reason they bought the house was what went with it.   Not only the fantastic views across the rolling fields to the mountains beyond, but the amount of land it had.   They had decided long ago that they would go self-sufficient, growing all their own food, keeping chickens and ducks, may be even a goat or small breed of cow, for the milk.   Now they had the money they went for it.   “Once in a lifetime chance,” Rod had said as they were leaving the solicitor’s office after listening to his father’s will being red out.   “He gave me nothing when I was growing up, and now he’s left m...

            Good afternoon and welcome to radio Le Mans, my name is Clive Robinson and I’ll be joined later, by Richard Adams; he’s stuck in the traffic,.   The weather for the weekend is perfect for racing, there is no rain forecast, so it looks like the cars will be on slick tyres for the whole race.   The usual teams are here with the battle between Audi and Nissan set to continue from last year, but we also have the likes of Mercedes Benz with a new car, Toyota, another new vehicle.   Aston Martin are here with three of their cars, but the talk of the paddock are the newcomers, with the youngest ever driver, and oldest driver in this year’s race.           Team Webster, as they call themselves, consist of Uncle and nephew Mike and Toby Webster.   Toby being the youngest ever competitor to race here at Le Mans, at the age of sixteen, and his uncle Mike at the age of fi...

  “What the hell is this then?” I helped her into the car. “Where’s the bloody stupid seat belt thingy?” She pushed and scraped the buckle. “Agh, for Christ sake.” “Here Mum, let me do it. Sit back, let me see.” It clicked into place. “Let’s try again shall we? Do you fancy popping to the shopping centre for an hour?” She had pulled down the visor and was looking in the mirror. “So what's going on?  A new car and now you want to go shopping? Where d’ya get the money?”  She caught me looking at her. “Keep your eyes on the bleedin’ road, we don't want to end up in a ditch.” “Give me some credit Mum.”  I noticed the small scab on her bottom lip.   “Mum, are you still taking those vitamins? They’re really good against cold sores.”  “Oh for fucks sake, nag nag. You’re just like your pathetic father. You turn up in a fancy car expecting me to gush all over you and tell you what a great daughter you are. I don’t hear from you for a week and then you roll up, ...