Brian Responded, So Nothing Happened

“Nothing happened at all.”

So, Ted said it was a long story and that nothing happened.

I perceived Ted’s response to be something other than a denial. I heard someone who thought that a situation had been worked out and that he simply did not want to go into detail about Ghandia’s business. I actually thought that Ted took the high road. He respected her privacy.

Survivor the Final Episode

Tina won.

I’m sitting here trying to think of something to say, something wise, something witty. But I just can’t come up with anything.

Reality Check

Barren’s family thought a move and a new school would solve her problems but they were wrong, very wrong.

Well Barren’s new living and schooling arrangements are working out so well aren’t they? Not exactly. It seems that there is a lot of misinformation amongst her multiple sets of parents and grandpa Michael about moving her to a different place and everything will be just fine.

Contrary to what her parents or grandparent believes drugs are EVERYWHERE. Just because Barren is living in the spacious Abbott mansion or going to a prestigious school does not mean that she is now protected or insulated from drugs or bad people. To the contrary it just means she has to find another supplier in her new surroundings and she may have already found one.

The Night Watchman. ll

…He was in the act of sitting down when suddenly he stiffened. He was sure he could see a movement in the field opposite the factory on the other side of the road. Perhaps it was the breeze. No, not with that kind of movement, surely. He could not be certain in the gathering dusk. But he could not let it be. He had to still his suspicions. He hobbled over to the low rubble wall on the other side of the road. There, sitting on the ground, resting against the hard-jutting granite of the rubble wall was a young woman. She hardly looked a day older than twenty.

The Night Watchman. l

The valley was a riot of colors, large fields that stretched from end to end, immense carpets of red clover, yellow ears of corn and green beans swaying in the summer evening breeze. A narrow road wound its way along one side of the valley, its surface freshly tarmaced. On one side, almost in the middle of the valley, was one blot in the otherwise picturesque surroundings. It was a small tile factory, four rooms built around a large yard where tiles of all shapes, sizes, and colors, baked in the Mediterranean sun.