Out to dinner.

The restaurant around them hummed with conversation. The dark reds and blacks on the walls and the table cloths gave the restaurant a brooding feel. So much so that anyone who made a slight nose or spoke at a higher volume drew glances from their fellow patrons. Richard finished his meal and calmly placed the knife and fork on either side of the plate. He fought the overwhelming urge to lean back and grab his belly.

“Rude.” Said Rachael to his left. Her curly hair was almost in her food as she looked from his plate to his face a few times before exhaling loudly.

“What exactly is rude about me?” He asked. Rachael looked up quickly and her eyes widened.

“Well, …it’s not general restaurant etiquette to finish before everyone else.”

“That isn’t a rule of dining out. Or dining in. Or dining anywhere! And if it is, it’s ridiculous.” He replied. Rachael looked opposite to the woman sat to his right and back to her plate. The woman kept eating but paused before putting her fork down.

“Apologise.” Martha said. Richard exhaled and closed his eyes as his shoulders slumped slightly. He surveyed her ginger head as she continued to eat.

“My dear Martha. The apple of my eye. Do you remember that long conversation we had some six months ago? I want the exact opposite.”

Martha’s fork clangs down onto her plate and the sound lifts some heads from those close by. Her mouth drops slightly open.

“Can I ask you something, Donna?” He says to the girl opposite. Her short, silver hair shoots up from her plate. She nods.

“Throughout your long and I can only assume agonising relationship, has Rachael ever said that anybody was being rude for finishing their food before the others?”

Donna contemplates this and ignores Rachael’s glare.

“Yes. Plenty of times.” She replies in a small voice.

“Do you agree with her when she has done this?” Martha nudged him with her foot under the table. He moved his seat back slightly and crossed his legs so she could not repeat the action.

“No.” She replies instantly. “There is nothing in any etiquette manual or article that I have come across that says it is wrong to finish early.” A small smile crosses her lips. “And that is one of the many things that has annoyed me about being her girlfriend.”

Donna looks at Rachael and she looks down at her plate to avoid her eyes.

Richard takes out some money from his wallet and counts it a few times before placing three notes in the middle of the table. Donna begins to do the same but underneath the table. He leans back and groans with satisfaction while stretching his long arms towards the floor. He turns to look at Martha who crosses her arms. He blinks slowly taking a deep breath.

“I hope you find someone exactly like you and someone that possesses a forehead befitting of your thumb. And Donna, good luck and all the best in everything that you do.” He said glancing at Rachael. Donna smiles broadly and slips the money she has counted into the shoulder of her dress and finishes her meal.

Rachael slumps into her seat. He stands up and grabs his glass and downs what remains of its contents before leaving the table. He stops, turns, and retrieves the money he just counted and puts it into the inside pocket of his suit.

“You’re not going to pay for your part of the bill?” Martha asks looking up at him. Richard feels his hands shaking in his pocket.

“For two years, I have paid for every drink we have had whenever we have gone on a night or day out. With the only two exceptions being both my birthdays, which I had to convince you to do. And you stormed out of both of those parties. Consider this paying your debt.”

“How…dare you? You…enjoyed doing that for…me. Didn’t you?” Martha said. Richard looks into her eyes and the moment seems to last forever.

“…really?” Richard said. Martha looked for help where there was none before slumping back into her seat and wiping a tear from her eye.

Richard places one hand on her shoulder. She squeezed it before he leaves the table and the restaurant.

“Goodbye.” Martha whispers as Richard kisses her on the top of her head.

“Hold on.” Said Donna. She stands and grabs her bag to leave.

“Donna? Where are you going?” Rachel said as if to an insubordinate child.

“Away. From you. Finally.” Donna said rolling her eyes. Rachael looked back at the table and then to Martha.

“It’s still fairly early, fancy getting responsibly drunk?” asked Richard.

“Definitely.” Said Donna.

 

 

 

 

 

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Finally… My first story of the year is finished! What next?

Hello,

I’ll start with a question; Do you prefer to leave a piece of work you have finished and move onto the next thing or dive right into editing said piece of work?

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So, for the last 6 months or so I have been working on my latest story. It centres around Joe, a calm mid-thirties man who owns an antique shop in Stockport, Manchester, UK. This shop is his life. His grandparents, who were more like his actual parents than his real ones ever were, left it solely to him when they passed away. He has worked to make it the go to place for antiques in Stockport and is enjoying his life.

However, when he purchases a necklace from a car boot sale in London, it brings trouble. Notably, three men who come to steal it. They assume they can intimidate him easily, given his calm and nice exterior, but what they do not know is that Joe has taken numerous Karate, Boxing, MMA and self-defence classes over the last ten years. Joe defends himself against the men easily and decides to take the next day off, take the necklace with him, and try to find out more. His friend Kelly manages to find out that the necklace is worth way more than what he purchased it for. A LOT MORE. When he comes back to work the following day, his shop has been smashed to pieces. Nothing has been stolen but it is a mess. Completely wrecked on the inside. Joe decides in that moment to track down who did this and bring them to justice. But in a nice way.

Well, at least that’s how the first draft has panned out. Joe and his friend Kelly track down who is responsible and go toe to toe with him. Him, known as D.A.D, is the biggest gangster in Stockport who is a more of an urban myth. Not many people have seen him and those who have are either dead or working for him. Currently, I have been able to test Joe and test all the other characters along the way. Though, as it seems to be with a lot of my stories, the villain has taken on a better and more rounded shape than my hero, but I will sort this out in the edits.

But, What next? Jump onto my next project? Edit this one? Run away? Eat a Pizza? The list is endless. I have settled on leaving the story for a while. In that while, I will finally finish my online Fraud Diploma course (he says after saying the same thing a few times before) And after that I want to focus on entering writing competitions and trying to get published.

That was way too easy to write. If only that road was that easy. I know it will be hard but it is something I have been looking forward to doing for years. I now feel ready. Well, as ready as I ever will be, to put my work out there for more eyes to see. Wish me luck.

The West has been won! Well, I finished my first western story so close enough.

Hello,

After a long time, I started the story 23rd March 2015 which makes my head spin, and a few distractions (hangovers, restarting this story, writing another story) I’ve finished my first attempt at a western entitled ‘Outlaw Torn’.

My favourite genre of film has always been the Western. The sheer amount of them on TV growing up meant I was never left wanting for something to watch at the weekend. And whenever I found a Western to watch, my Dad had ALWAYS watched all or some of it. I remember liking the dialogue and how effortlessly cool the hero’s, and some cases the villains, appeared to be or were. The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly is my favourite of all time but I can sit down and watch most. Some of my other favourites include the original and remake of True Grit, The Sons of Katie Elder, The Alamo (Both), Open Range, Rio Bravo. Tombstone. I could go on. And I intend to. Seraphim Falls. Unforgiven. The Salvation. Appaloosa. Stagecoach.

These and much more have helped to shape my own story. In my head, a wanderer moves from town to town, searching for work, a bed, and to forget his past. One town comes upon him, over a hill, and his past finally catches up with him.

I have enjoyed writing this story but throughout I had the most difficulty writing the gun fights. I have each fight in my head clear as day but getting the words right to convey this proved a challenge. One that I had fun with but at times it was like trying to swim through cement. How many times can I say Shoot, Bullet, Hammer, Fired, Loaded and Gun before the reader and myself get bored? I did eventually find other words but the process of doing so took AGES. On some occasions, I barely wrote anything due to the frustration it caused me. Typing ‘The End’ on this one was amazing and relief all in one.

I also worried about the characters and ensuring that each was given enough time to show themselves and to evolve or devolve through the story. I do this all the time. But then I remembered…

It is the first draft. You can iron out the creases in the edits.

I told myself this throughout writing the story but ignored my own advice a lot. More so than any other story I’ve written. Maybe it’s because it’s a story in my favourite genre and I want to do it justice the best I can. But, if I did end up publishing it, someone is bound to find fault with it. Even after all the combs in all the world going through it. Maybe I don’t need a haircut. I’ll just pull my hair out rewriting the thing.

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Thank you for reading and have a nice day.