The Harvester

A long, overly dragged out, deep knock rattles the front door of Ambers new domain.
She knows in her gut who it is and instead of answering the door, would rather be forced to run naked through the street in pouring rain.
She goes and checks on her three-month-old son to make sure he is still asleep.
He is, however every time she looks at him, it causes her to want to weep.
He has his eyes, his nose, that ******* creep!
She struggles to sleep at night no matter how many she counts, the endless sheep.
Being away from that house hasn’t brought with it a sense of relief.
She has yet to find a proper hobby to use as a release,
to extradite from herself all the negative thoughts and energy built up from her previous reality.
She feels worn down and defeated, her self-esteem.
She feels ugly and fat, gone is her once perfect physique.
Her heart feels empty, her soul incomplete.
A healed psyche, deep inner peace are the goals she hopes to achieve,
but she’s felt that way since she was thirteen,
and back then the worst thing she had to live with was her nightmarish daydreams.

Another long, overly dragged out deep knock rattles the front door causing Amber to scream at the person causing the noise.
The person behind the door speaks, but the words are inaudible.
Amber walks up to the door and swings it open.
Standing in front of her is Erin, she thinks her eyes must be joking.
Erin is a few months pregnant herself, Amber can’t escape the feeling of hopeless.
She’s already changed addresses, but Erin has found her again through sheer devotion.

Amber goes to slam the door on Erin’s face but Erin places her hand on the door to stop it in its tracks.
Amber doesn’t want another confrontation, it will surly reach a horrible ******.
Erin is crazy and she wants nothing to do with her.
They will never be on friendly terms, that’s a fact she can assure.

“Amber, please talk to me.
All I want to do is spill my soul and set my conscious free.
I want to make things right between us and end this bad blood.
I don’t want you to feel like I got off easy while you were tortured by being beaten and dragged through the mud.
We don’t ever have to be best friends,
I just want to apologize and for you to listen so we can finally make amends.”

“I have a restraining order against you for a reason Erin.
I don’t want to talk to you or see you, I would rather fill out a hundred boring questionnaires and mail each one individually in.
I know your jealous of me for having Chris’s baby,
but trust me I wasn’t ready to become a proper lady.
I was a teenage girl when he abducted me and ***** me over and over again getting me pregnant.
I begged him to get me an abortion but he wouldn’t listen to that plea even for a second.
The child I’m now forced to raise reminds me of him every single day and I hate him for it!
I hate you as well because inside that unstable mind of yours, you are unfit
to become a mother!
You’re too young, just like me, it’s not too late for you to give up on it and eventually have another
after you meet someone in fall in love.
Who would you rather have a child with, a raven or a dove?”

“I’m sorry Chris put you in this position but that wasn’t my fault.
I was also abducted and a victim of his ****** assaults.”

“You enjoyed spending time with him!
You enjoyed his big **** inside of you!
Sure, he kept you ******* and used you as his personal ***** for a few days,
but you soon won his praise.
He allowed you to walk freely around his house, even when he wasn’t there!
I was ******* and drugged constantly, our situations don’t even compare.
Every day you could have walked out of the house and went to get help.
You did not, instead you cooked, cleaned and read his books.
You acted like his ******* wife!
You ****** him daily, slept next to him in his bed and he provided you with a decent life.
I have nothing more to say to you.
You are despicable and just thinking of you makes me want to chug brew after brew.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t leave to get us help and take down Chris, that is on me, I own that.
The truth is, I was terrified, terrified of what he would do if I tried to leave; I admit I’m no righteous diplomat.
I remained on my best behavior to stay on his good side so he would allow me the freedom to roam around his house.
It sure as hell beat being ******* in a tiny room that stunk worse than an outhouse.
I bartered with him every day to allow you some freedoms as well, but you had blown his trust so badly he always instantly refused to listen to me about it.
Believe me, we came out of the same boat, I’m not a ******* hypocrite.”

“You’re so full of ****!
I don’t believe a word you say, that’s something I just won’t permit.
I saw the way you looked at me.
Your eyes glared at me with contempt you ******* banshee!
You hated, hated, that I was carrying Chris’s baby and wanted me and my unborn child dead.
You wanted to be the only one he bred.
You loved him and wanted him all to yourself.
It’s time for us to now say our final farewell.”

“Ok, I admit that I did think I was in love with him.
I thought we would run off together and live our lives together as husband and wife under a false pseudonym.
However, I didn’t hate your nor did I want to harm you.
I really did advocate for you with Chris but he refused to believe anything I was telling him and couldn’t accept my words as being true.
I’m sorry for my actions and lack of actions in that house, I truly was scared and confused.
We are both his victims and both of us to him were nothing more than a hole to use.”

“Don’t lie to me, you still love him and you are angry that he fled the country without you.
You thought you were going to be by his side forever, attached to him like glue,
but he caught wind that the cops were coming to rescue us and ran before they did,
leaving you behind sleeping in his bed all alone.
He left you behind to raise that child all on your own.
I’m sorry I had to throw that stone
but it’s the truth and you need to hear it.
It’s best to abort that child right now and move on with your life.
Unlike me, you have the option of truly moving on from this ordeal.
Don’t worry, you will find another guy one day that makes you squeal
like his **** made you squeal every night.
With the right choices made, your future can become bright.”

“Chris would never leave me behind you *****!
He will return one day when it’s safe to do so and will reunite with me so we can live a life together that is rich,
satisfying and everlasting!
I won’t listen for another second to your negative forecasting.”

“I knew you weren’t over him Erin, so why are you really here?
Please answer quick because I’m ready for you to disappear.”

Erin, now frowning and filled with rage pushes Amber down hard to the floor.
She’s here for one reason, a reason involving gore.
She jumps on top of Amber and takes out a knife she has hidden in her boot.
This was her plan all along, take out her rival and her fruit.
She wants Chris’s baby and Chris’s love all to herself.
Some call it selfishness; she calls it determination.
Erin, now with knife in hand, stabs it into Amber’s stomach.
She smiles and begins humming
a song of victory over her rival as she cries out in pain.
She pulls the knife out as Amber yells out she’s ******* insane.
Erin gets off of Amber and begins walking deeper into the house.
“No, not my baby,” Amber cries out fearing the worst.

A few moments later, Erin returns to Amber with her son in her arms and her knife placed against his throat.
Erin begins laughing and starts to gloat.
She is moments away from eliminating the two people with ties to Chris.
Then it will be safe for him to return and plant on her a kiss,
before the run off together and live out their lives in bliss.

Erin asks Amber if there are any last words she would like to say to her son.
Amber, moaning in pain on the floor tells Erin this doesn’t need to be done.
Erin says it must be done as a knock on the front door interrupts proceedings.
Erin has no time for this, the child must begin bleeding.
Who dares interrupt her and Amber’s dealings?
Erin has a very bad feeling.

“Police open up!”
“That’s right *****, I called the police the second you knocked on my door.
It’s best to stop this charade and accept the punishment you have in store.
HELP!  I’VE BEEN STABBED AND THE INTRUDER IS TREATENING TO **** MY BABY!
SHE’S COMPLETELY ******* CRAZY!”

The front door breaks down as the police storm the house with guns drawn.
Erin stands in front of them holding the baby with the knife still pressed against his throat now showing off a massive frown.

“Put the knife down, set the child on the floor and put your hands above your head!”

Erin refuses to listen to the cops demands and begins to cut the babies throat.
If she can’t have Chris neither can Amber and the knife is the antidote.
A gun shot is heard as everything begins to move in slow motion.
Erin feels overwhelmed with emotion.

A bullet slowly exits a gun and begins moving through the air directly towards Erin.
Her knife slowly begins tearing into the flesh of the baby’s neck.
The baby lets out a loud scream as the pain created by the knife races through his body.
The bullet continues to move steadily through the air quickly approaching Erin,
who is frozen in place and unable to move.
With the knife now half way across the baby’s neck,
The bullet from the gun enters into Erin’s right eye,
tearing a hole into and through her brain,
and exits out the back of her head.
Erin drops the baby as her head is forced backwards.
She falls lifeless, backwards onto the hard floor dead.
Police rush to the aid of the baby who is still alive but badly injured.
Amber thanks the cops for the efforts as she looks up towards the heavens,
taking in her final breath as the loss of blood has become too much.
“Chris must pay for this,” is her final thought,
as the living world around her turns to black.

The Mathematician

“Hey Mr. Morris, I’m struggling to grasp these new math problems you have us working on.
Next week, I’m going on a family vacation and will be gone,
so, I’m wondering if you would be able to help me understand these problems after school today.
Unless you have big plans right after school, in that case, I wouldn’t want to cause you any type of delay.”

“Erin, you are my best student.
You’re getting an A in the class, never late and never truant.
I really don’t think you need my help on this.
I’m sure you will get yet another A on your next test and look back on this moment and reminisce
about the time that you lost confidence in yourself for a moment and asked for help you didn’t need.
Study a little longer and harder tonight and by tomorrow you will have it down packed, I know you agree.”

“I’m asking you for help because I want to keep my A and don’t want to slip up this late in the semester.
Look, if I wasn’t seriously having doubts about this, I wouldn’t come to you and pester.
Besides my parents, you are my biggest investor,
in believing that I am capable of becoming something greater than just a jester.”

“Fine, I’ll help you.  Are you able to come to my house tonight around six?
This study session shouldn’t take longer than an hour, as long as I stay on track and avoid talking politics.”

I smile and agree to the six-o clock meet up happy as a girl can be.
Butterflies tingle in my stomach, I’m so full of glee.
Too be honest, I don’t need his help.
I know exactly what I’m doing with the current curriculum.
My plan with Mr. Morris today involves something a little more…extracurricular.
I know what my friends will say.
I understand that they will beg and plea with me to keep my tenebrous desires at bay,
but I can no longer deny them.
Just like when you’re sick with the flu, you cannot deny the phlegm.
I’m in love with Mr. Morris.
I’m in love with him.
Tonight, I will make my move and cement my place by his side as his queen.
We can keep it a secret until I turn eighteen.
I see the way his eyes marvel at me.
He **** well knows my age might say sixteen, but I look twenty-three.
He eye ***** me every day in class.
I always flirt with him and ask him if I can get him some more water, just so I can hold onto is favorite glass.
He’s so handsome, kind and strong.
Tonight, he will introduce me to his bed where we both belong.
I’ve saved myself just for him.
I’m done with the flirting, that was just to prelim.
Tonight, we will consummate our relationship.
He is mine and I am his.

I tell my best friend Jade about my plan.
She immediately shuns me since she’s not a fan.
She tells me the last girl that went over to Mr. Morris’s house to get extra help was never seen again.
She tells me to stop thinking with my hormones and think with my brain.
I’m sixteen and he’s thirty-two.
She tells me he’s very mature and I haven’t got a clue.
She storms off after I refuse to back down from my plan.
I will show her my love for him is not a scam.

It is true that a girl he was supposed to help two years ago did go missing.
Everyone thought they ran off together after one person claimed to have seen them kissing.
It was proven he had nothing to do with her disappearance.
The police interrogated him for hours showing some real perseverance.
In the end, he was proven innocent.
No one could link him to her disappearance or to the kiss.
Kiss be true or not, tonight I want my kiss and more.
I want us in bed naked with our clothes scattered all over the floor.
I’m going to put on a thong and wear my sexiest skirt just for him.
He’s going to find out I’m not an innocent little church girl who likes to sing hymns.
I’m giving him my innocence so he can turn me into a woman.
His woman!
And he’ll be my man!
I’m putting myself out there tonight, hopefully everything goes according to plan.
__________________­

I’m looking in the bathroom mirror getting myself all dolled up.
Looking my very best for tonight is my first step towards becoming Mrs. Morris and once we are together, there will be no breaking up.
Ahh, yes, my makeup is right on point!
Looking like this…so hot and fine…I’m sure I won’t disappoint.
I have on my skimpiest thong and shortest of skirts.
O god, I wonder how he is in bed.  Hopefully good enough to make me squirt.
A girl squirting looks like so much fun in the *****’s I’ve seen.
Being able to squirt would make me a unique cuisine.
Ok, I’m dolled up, looking great and ready to go,
now time to sneak out of house without my parents seeing and calling me a *****.
They would not approve of me going to see my teacher looking like this.
They would lock me in my bedroom and throw away the key down a dark abyss.
__________________­__

I pull up and park on the side of the road next to Mr. Morris’s home.
My nerves are starting to get to me, I hope I’m doing the right thing and my brain is in fact not short a few chromosomes.
My heart is fluttering.
My mind is wondering.
My hormones are restructuring.
My ****** is quivering.
My looks are on point and flattering.
Time to make my move and end my head and my hearts bantering.

I get out of my car and walk up to the front door.
I know I dressed provocative, I just hope I don’t come off as a desperate *****.
The sky above me is darkening as storm clouds are moving in.
A rain storm won’t dampen my mood or wipe away my grin.
I take a deep breath, hoping this goes well.
If I was a good Christian girl, I would be terrified that this night would **** me to hell.
I knock on the door and Mr. Morris is quick to answer.
He eyes me up, smiles, invites me in all while letting out a slight laughter.

“Erin, not to cross any teacher student lines, but you look incredible.
If you were 18… I would ask that for just one night if you were rentable.
Dear god…I just made a ******* joke with one of my underage students.
Let’s…forget that comment just happened and focus on your mathematics skills so you can ease your mind and not have to worry about showing improvement.
Go ahead and sit down, I’m going to grab a glass of wine would you like one?
My way of showing you I’m sorry for that ******* comment and that outside of school I can be fun.”

I make myself comfortable on the couch and spread my legs a bit,
quickly check myself in my makeup containers mirror and ensure I’m still looking good in my outfit.
Mr. Morris returns with two glasses of wine and sits down next to me.
He’s sitting right next to me, right where I want him to be.
I take a sip of the wine and thank him for the drink,
spread my legs apart a bit further hoping he notices my thong, it’s bright pink.

“So what do you need my help on Erin?
You have an hour, then I have to meet up with my ex-wife Sharon.”

“Well, Mr. Morris…”

“You can call me Chris, Erin.”

I smile, first name basis already, this is going well.
I wonder what cologne he is wearing, I sure like it’s smell.
His eyes are dreamy; I could stare into them and get lost all night.
I can feel my love for him in my heart, I know what we are about to do is right.

“Well, Chris, I lied to you earlier today.
I didn’t come here seeking help with my work, rather to play.
I understand all of my work completely, I don’t need your help with it at all.
What happens next is ultimately your call,
but I came here dressed like this hoping you would be impressed.
I want us to be intimate so I can always help you relieve your stress.
I love you and want to be with you.
If you ever feel like you’re falling apart, you can turn to me to be your glue.
We can keep this all a secret until I’m 18 and graduated.
After that, we can go public and our love will never be debated.
I’ve saved myself for you and I want you right here, right now.
Do to me everything my parents would never allow!”

“Erin…I would lose my career, face prison time if anyone ever found out.
I know you promise to keep quiet but I have my doubts.
Every teacher-student relationship eventually gets found out about.
If we did this right now, every day in class I would want to bend you over my desk and make you shout
my name out loud over and over again and have my doubts I would be able to control myself around the other students in class.
Trust me I want to, more than I want to light up some grass,
but I just don’t think it’s a good idea.
Besides, you don’t know where I’ve been so you could end up with gonorrhea.”

“You’re not going to stop this from happening.
The thought of leaving here without getting what I want is maddening.
I understand that keeping this quiet will be challenging,
but we will master the technique of balancing
our separate public life and our closed off private life together.
Come on Chris, come get me and punish me, you don’t have to be sweet and tender.”

I see the conflict in Chris’s eyes as he loses control and plants a kiss on me.
His eyes tell me he is nervous and is debating whether he should stay or flee,
however, he takes things to the next level and invades my mouth with his tongue.
He needs to look past the fact that I’m young.
I’m mature and know what I want in life.
I want Chris and to one day be his wife!

After a few minutes of hot and heavy kissing,
Chris makes the next move towards providing me with what I’ve been missing.
He moves me onto his lap and while still kissing me, begins to life my shirt up and off of me.
Everything is going just how I imaged it would be.
With my shirt, off, Chris takes off my bra and begins ******* on my *******.
I place my mouth on his ear and begin to nibble.

Just as things are about to heat up some more,
thunder cracks open the sky and nearly knocks us down to the floor.
The power in the house instantly does out and we are left in the dark.
“O well, forget the power let’s keep going,” is my remark.

Chris tells me we need to pause.
He tells me we can pick things up in a few minutes because
down in his basement he has a generator he needs to start up to get the power back on.
I look at him with a frown.
He tells me to hang on tight he will be right back.
He doesn’t want us blindly navigating his house in the black.
As Chris adventures downstairs, I decide to take a look around his living room.
He should only be gone a few minutes, I assume.
I notice and bookcase in the living room and decide to take a look at what books he likes to read.
They may tell me some more about my love before we begin to breed.
Can’t hurt to learn more about him.
I would be surprised to find a book full of hymns.
He doesn’t seem the type who would enjoy singing them.
Maybe he has a book that will teach me about investing money so I can have a steady income.
“Total Eclipse of The Sun,” what in the world is this?
It’s written by some dude I never heard of, it must ****.

I pick the book up off the shelf to take a closer look at it.
As I pick the book up, something happens that leaves me shocked, a hard fact to admit.
The book shelf begins to turn into the wall exposing a hidden room.
My heart is instantly filled with a feeling of doom.
Nerves shoot up and down my spine causing my arm hairs to stand up like static.
**** is starting to get dramatic.
My breathing begins to quicken and become fanatic.
What exactly is hidden in this room might be problematic.
Do I dare go in and take a look?  What I find may be traumatic.
Having a hidden room in your home is quite climatic.

I decade, against my better judgement, to go in and take a look around.
I walk into the room and notice an absence of sound.
I notice two rooms located towards the back of the main room.
I’m definitely no longer in my bedroom.

I go to the first room and take a look inside.
What I see inside leaves me mouth hanging open wide.
There is a table with straps attached to it,
used to tether someone down and get them to submit.
There are multiple belts, ropes, hand cuffs and *** toys.
The room appears to conceal noise.
Is this the room Chris plans to take me too?
I feel sick, maybe I should bail and tell Chris I’m coming down with the flu.

Nervously and again against my better judgement, I decide to check out the second room.
What I discover…the horrific scene I uncover…leaves me to believe I’m not leaving this house without being placed in a tomb.
I discover a young girl, nearly nine months pregnant chained up looking miserable on the hard, concrete floor.
Tears begin to fall from my eyes as fear overcomes me as to who exactly I have fallen for.
I recognized this girl, it’s the same girl who was rumored to have visited Chris then went missing two years ago.
The same girl he was cleared of having anything to do with her disappearance.
He hid her in this room where she would never be discovered and used her as a *** slave.
This man is depraved.
I ask the girl if she is ok but she doesn’t respond.
The horrors she has had to endure the past two years is beyond
my wildest imagination.
I again ask her if she is ok, this time showing real compassion.
Again, she doesn’t say a word.
She looks at me but her eyes appear to be heavily medicated.
She’s drugged and unable to even speak.
I need to get out of here before this freak…

A hand covers my mouth and a needle is stuck into my neck.
Everything around me immediately turns black.
----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------------------------

My eyes slowly open.
I discover I have been strapped down to the table in the first room.
My body has been stripped naked.
My legs have strapped, spread apart exposing my ****** for the whole world to see.
A gag has been placed in my mouth, I’m unable to speak.
**** is really beginning to look bleak.
“I’m sorry I have to do this to you Erin.
You really are a daring girl who’s fun and caring.
However, you have discovered my dark secret.
Unfortunately for you, it appears my dark secret is about to have a sequel.
I really wanted us to have a real relationship.
I didn’t want it to come to this, I wanted us to have a real, legitimate courtship,
but you had to go snoop around the second I turned my back and found something you shouldn’t have.
Listen to me closely Erin, this will go a lot easier for you if you listen to me and behave.
I want you to answer a few questions for me ok?
Yes or no questions so shake your head to answer.
Did you tell anyone you were coming to my house tonight?”

I shake my head no.

“Did your parents know you were coming here to get help with some homework you were struggling with.”

I shake my head no.

“Did you tell any of your friends you were coming here tonight?”

I shake my head no.

“Ok good, so I have some good news for you.  I’m going to help you with a math problem right now.”

Chris pulls down his pants and exposes himself.

“We are going to find out how many times nine inches goes into you.”

Chris gives me a devilish smile as he gets on top of me and places himself next to the opening of my slit.
My eyes fill with water as tears begin to flood out of them, I’m losing it.
Chris gives me a kiss on the check then forcefully and without warning thrusts all nine inches of himself into my ****** slit.
Blood pours out of me as I go to scream out in pain but the gag won’t permit it.
He trusts back and forth over and over again going harder and harder each time.
I wanted this moment to be sublime,
instead my body begins shaking uncontrollably as pain invades and conquers.
This whole situation is ******* bonkers.
After twenty minutes of being badly abused the pain becomes to much.
My eyes close and I black out to the world around me.
-------------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------


Knock.
Knock.
Knock.

“Sar­gent Armstrong what an unpleasant surprise.
What brings you by so early in the morning, did a family member of mine die?”

“I’m searching for a missing girl; name is Erin Sanders.
She’s a student of yours.
The second student of yours that has gone missing within the past two years.
Allow me to be clear.
Turn her over and this will go a lot smoother for you.
You don’t want this to turn into a moment you will live to rue.”

“Sorry Sargent, I have no idea where she could be.”

“I know she came here after school hours last night to get extra help from you.
Her best friend provided us with that clue.
She also told us that Erin was in love with you and was coming over here to sleep with you.
Since you have a thing for young girls, I’m sure she was an excellent *****.
Is she still sleeping in your bed right now?”

“Sorry Sargent but Erin isn’t here.
I will admit that I had her scheduled for some extra help last night but she never showed.
She’s my best student and I was skeptical that she actually needed help,
so, I’m not surprised to hear that she told her friend she was going to try to sleep with me,
but she must have gotten cold feet because she never showed.
Sorry I couldn’t be more help; I really do hope you find her and she’s ok.”

“We got a call from your neighbor as well who told us he saw a young girl stop over at your house last night around six.
Now Chris, your starting to look like you’re about to **** bricks.
He told us he saw the girl, who matched Erin’s description, come over dressed “provocative” and then disappear inside your house.
He told us she never came back out as of this morning.”

“Well he must be mistaken.
If she was here, wouldn’t her care still be parked here?”

“Your neighbor told us that late last night he saw a man that resembled you come out of the house and move the car the girl was driving to an unknown location.
I know she’s here Chris, so stop the charade.
If you allow me in your house, we can sort this whole thing out and it will go a lot easier for you.
It’s time for you to confess to your wrong doings, it’s long overdue.”

“You know I had nothing to do with that girls’ disappearance and was proven innocent of any wrong doing.
Keep bullying me and harassing me I might just have to contemplate suing.”

“Well if this is just some big misunderstanding, why don’t you let me in and we can sort it out quick.”

“You need a warrant to come into this house, Sargent.”

“I will have a warrant in a few minutes so don’t get to comfy Chris.
Don’t think about fleeing either, I have officers stationed all around your house in case you or the girl try anything.”

“See you soon Sargent.”

My eyes open to the sound of two men talking.
I originally heard knocking.
It sounds like the police are here looking for me,
but I’m nowhere near being freed.
The police won’t find this room if they search the house.
There’s no hope, I’m a prisoner here.
A *** slave for Chris to **** and reproduce with.
That book case should be considered a monolith
because no one is moving it to find us girls be tortured back here.
All hope is truly gone.

Tears fall from my eyes just as Chris smiles and closes the front door on the Sargent knowing even with the warrant they won’t find what they are looking for.

The Phantom

When it first happened, she didn’t know what to think.
Being ******* and *****, well she enjoyed the kink.
She was frightened at first but struggled to remain scared because deep down, she still contained love for him.
Sure, he was secretly a monster and currently her situation looked rather grim,
but with her now in his life permanently, he didn’t need the other ***** he kept prisoner in the other room.
She could become his wife and him, her handsome groom.
He’s just misunderstood, but she insisted she understood.
A *** addict with no one to love and using some ***** to fill the void inside of them.
Her love for him and young tight hole will do him a lot of good.
You may think she’s young and dumb,
but she knows what her heart wants
and it wants him, her love and saint, Chris Morris.

The first couple days in captivity, he would take turns having his way with both of his prisoners,
always keeping an eye open for any unwanted visitors.
Erin quickly lost the fear she had of being held prisoner and used for *** and began fully enjoying each and every ****** experience she had with her love.
He was her everything, her mighty king and peaceful dove.
She quickly began begging Chris to make love to her every time he came into her holding cell.
She wanted him all to herself, from his massive **** down to his unique body smell.

She viewed the girl in the other cell as her rival for Chris’s love and attention.
When her neighbor wasn’t drugged, they would stare at each other through their cells with elephant thick tension.
She was due to give birth in a matter of weeks and jealousy ran through Erin’s blood.
****** of both mother and baby ran through her mind daily like a flash flood.
SHE wanted to have Chris’s babies, she wanted to be his wife, lover and sole baby maker.
She wanted to eliminate the second player.

Every day, Erin would plead with Chris to free her from her cell and allow her to roam free around the house.
She promised to never leave his side and be his loyal spouse.
She never fought him when being ***** to show her love and obedience to him.
She would tell him of her dreams of them going to the beach together, stripping down to nothing and going for a long swim.
She told him she wanted to be wrapped in his arms at night snuggling tight with him.
She wanted to be intertwined with him, wrapping together all of their limbs.
Chris, shocked that Erin wasn’t afraid of him and wanted to love him so badly,
quickly fell in love with her madly.
After just a few days of being held in captivity, he released Erin and gave her the freedom to roam around the house as she pleased.
She had orders to keep the curtains on the windows closed at all times.
She was allowed to eat what she wanted and drink all the wine.
She had to hide whenever there was a knock on the door.
She had to help out around the house and do chores.
She wasn’t allowed to go outside since no one was allowed to see her there.
Clothing was optional for her to wear.
She usually ran around wearing nothing but a thong.
Would join her love in his daily hitting of his ****.
She would cook, clean and please her man every day.
She was happy, content and had no intentions of getting away.
Every day she would bring food to Amber to keep her fed.
Amber hated her for running around freely and constantly fornicating in Chris’s bed.
Erin would smile and attempt to reassure her that she was only acting this way in order to find a way for the two of them to escape.
She would tell Amber she was secretly recording Chris to **** him in a trial by presenting the audiotape.
Amber never believed the lies constantly coming out of her mouth.
She saw the way Erin lusted after Chris,
the way she paraded around the house nearly naked like a whorish miss.
She could see it in her eyes, the distain she had for her for carrying her loves child.
She saw right through her fake devilish smile.
On the bright side, Chris started to leave her alone with Erin constantly begging for his ****.
Every time she was around him, she would stare at his crotch and gawk.
So pathetic she thought, this young girl filled with such lust for such a freak.
She has the opportunity to escape at any time during any day of the week,
but ****** it all away to live her secret life with Chris.
She believes being with him is such a wonderful bliss.

A couple weeks later, a pregnancy test it taken exposing a terrible truth.
The young teen Erin is pregnant, destroying what’s left of her youth.
She stares at the test with the widest, happiest smile ever seen.
She thrilled to be giving her king a prince and to take her place as his true queen.
She can’t wait to tell her love of this great news.
She is certain he will be excited and share her same views.

Her enjoyment turns to better coldness as she thinks of the soon to be born child being carried by Amber.
A plot to ******, she begins to construct out of her anger.
She must be the one to have his child, not her.
She will talk to Chris about killing Amber, she’s certain he will concur.
She believes her life with Chris will last forever uninterrupted.
Little does she know, her seemingly unstoppable momentum is about to be obstructed.
The police were unable to find the girls hiding in the house when they conducted their raid,
but they are not the only ones attempted to administer aid.

Outside, lurking in the shadows, two sets of eyes have been keeping an eye on the girls and the ****** Chris.
These eyes see Erin becoming unstable and understand her behavior they cannot dismiss.
They must act quickly to snag their man and save the innocent girls suffering at his hands.
Tonight, is the night they take their stand.

As Erin’s eye lids begin to feel heavy and she drifts off the sleep…
a knock on the front door startles the devilish creep.
Unsure of who could be knocking at his front door at this time of night,
Chris slowly makes his way to the front door while turning off all of the lights.

He collects himself and slowly opens the front door.
With all of the lights off, he gives off the illusion that he is ready to snore.
The door opens showing Chris what stands on the other side.
In front of him stands a man whose seemingly full of pride.

“Hey, sorry to bother you at this hour, but I’m wondering if I can borrow your phone.
I locked myself out of my house, the fault is all my own.
My name is Nathan; I live right next door in that house there.
It will only take a minute I swear.
I just need to call someone to come let me in, then I’ll be out of your hair.
If it helps at all, I can pay you a fare.”

“Sorry, I’m unable to help at the moment, my phone is down for some reason and I’m waiting for the company to come fix it.”

“Strange, I wonder if anyone else is having phone issues around here?”

“I wouldn’t know man, now have a good night.”

As Chris goes to shut the door on Nathan’s face…
a needle enters into his neck from behind.
His eyes instantly close as he falls to the ground sound asleep.
The phantoms plan will soon be complete.

“You knocked out the girl too, right?”

“Yes, she is sound asleep as well,
now let’s get him out of here and contact the police to come take care of the girls.”

Se c'è una cosa che dovete sapere su di me .è che io sono ossessionato con la caramella .Zuccherino.fruttato .cioccolatoso caramelle.il termine " golosi " e mi vanno di pari passo .Quindi questo capolavoro candy- ispirato di un matrimonio catturato da Ozzy Garcia Fotografia ?Beh.mi ha colpito con il suo bouquet caramelle ( SI ) .fiori rosa -riempita da Ocean Fiori e un infinito visualizzazione dolci.Clicca qui per tutti i dettagli squisiti .E ' al di là abbastanza .

Condividi questa splendida galleria ColorsSeasonsSpringSettingsOutdoorStylesTraditional Eleganza

Da Sposa.Yoav e ** iniziato .scegliendo un luogo che potesse ospitare il nostro matrimonio all'aperto .l'aria calda Miami .una tregua benvenuto da inverni ventoso di Chicago e



Amsterdam e un minimo cambiamento climatico per i nostri 30 membri della vestiti da sposa famiglia che hanno fatto il viaggio dalla lontanaIsraele.La nostra visione per la sera era comfort casual con un lato di zucchero e un paio di sorprese lungo la strada.Jessica Masi di JCG eventi assicurato che questa visione è venuto a vita e Ozzy Garcia .di Ozzy Garcia Fotografia .artisticamente catturato questa visione e immortalato esso .
Avevamo fratello Yoavs officiare una parte della cerimonia .perché abbiamo ritenuto che quando si trattava di integrare i dati personali .chi poteva raccontare la nostra storia meglio di qualcuno che è stato lì fin dall'inizio ?Abbiamo voluto questo per impostare il precedente e il tono per il matrimonio a tutti i presenti .testimoniando il primo giorno della nostra vita in coppia .sono stati tutti .personaggi integrali amare nella nostra storia .

amore è dolce .il mio amore per la caramella è ancora più dolce .e ** sempre saputo che volevo il mio bouquet di essere fatto di caramelle .Alcune persone si asciugano i loro mazzi di fiori .alcune persone li salvano .avevo intenzione di mangiare la mia.Grazie alla Donut Divas .** avuto un ottimo spuntino a tarda notte sulla mia prima notte di nozze !Alcuni dei miei dolci preferiti di zucchero .marshmallow e M \u0026 Ms .sono stati abilmente collocato in un cono di cialda gigante.Il vantaggio di avere un matrimonio in giro per le vacanze di Pasqua è che anche l'erba nel bouquet era commestibile .

Oltre alla mia dipendenza da zucchero .credo davvero che ci sono pochi prodotti alimentari in questo mondo che può farmi felice come una torta di compleanno Publix negozio di alimentari .Al fine di condividere il mio amore per questa confezione con gli altri.dolci display ci ha fatto diversi stand torta di legno colorati .a cui Ocean Fiori aggiunto qualche scintilla .e abbiamo avuto diversi gusti di 8 pollici torte Publix poste sulle tavole di accoglienza .Il piano era quello di rimuovere le torte dopo cena e li hanno tagliati per dessert .ma i nostri ospiti seduti a questi tavoli è diventato così possessivo nei dolci sul loro tavolo che non avrebbe permesso a nessuno di toccarli .I nostri ospiti scavate con le loro forchette .senza nemmeno togliere dalla torta stare !

Oltre a tutti gli elementi fugaci di zucchero che è andato in nostro giorno speciale - le carte escort .il bouquet .i pop anello caramelle .lecca-lecca ragazza di fiore.il candy bar .le torte Publix - Penso che uno dei nostri ricordi preferiti dail giorno è venuto da Erin Una Chainani .** letto di Erin online circa due anni fa dopo googling Miami ritrattista .** chiamato Erin e le ** chiesto se lei sarebbe così incline a frequentare il nostro matrimonio e dipingere una scena.Non solo era pronto.ma ha dipinto due scene di boot!Ha catturato uno della cerimonia e uno del nostro primo ballo in coppia .

Quando il mio nuovo marito ed io stavamo confrontando le note dopo il matrimonio .entrambi abbiamo notato abiti da sposa corti che molte persone ci hanno offerto questo consiglio .amare ogni secondo di questa giornata perché va così veloce .E mentre il giorno ha fatto andare in fretta .non abbiamo mai avuto l'impressione che abbiamo perso tutte le occasioni per tutto dentro E grazie a Erin e Ozzy .abbiamo ricordi che ci ricordano del giorno del nostro matrimonio per sempre .Fotografia

: Ozzy Garcia Fotografia | Floral Design : Mare Flowers | Abito da vestiti da sposa sposa: Pronovias | Wedding Cake: Temptations eleganti | Scarpe : Mojo Moxy | capelli: Tanya Maquez | Abbigliamento dello sposo : Completo di supporto | Cake Stands : Sweet Visualizza | Cake Topper: Questo è il mio Topper | Torte (piccolo ) : Publix Bakery | Candy Profumo: Donut Divas | Cigar Roller : Acope Cigars | Dress Sash : Blue Bird Studio | Orecchini : Matrimoni 826 | Pianificazione + Design : GCP Eventi LLC | Flower Girl Dresses :pretty Flower Girl | Scarpe Flower Girl : Toms | Trucco : Rachel Blair Shapiro | Ritratto Artista : Erin Una Chainani | Wedding Venue : The Palms hotel \u0026
http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-c-1
http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-corti-c-49
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The pain in your soul
bleeds through every word,
the sadness in your heart
is felt in every word

Nobody knows your pain,
nobody can truly understand
the comfort and end for which you thirst.
- ending it all is an option
But I dare you this first;

Erin, I don't know you
but your words are You
your words tell me your pain,
your writing is not in vain

Put Ending in your pocket,
keep IT in reserve -
Then go out and show them,
all those *******,
who you really are

Soon, you'll see,
the only reason you were ever able
to look them in the eye
is because you're a giant,
a god among mortals

Erin, we need you
not the world,
not the *******.
No, WE need you;
the Poets
the Painters
the Architects
the Doctors
the Lovers

We, need you,
for it is the feelers,
the compassionate,
that suffer the most -
People like YOU.

We need you Erin,
Because without Erin,
there's one less beautiful soul
one less person to admire a rainbow

Without you there's nothing to write about
Nothing to sing about
No reason to heal
No reason to love

Please, I beg you;
Stay a little longer
- Despite your pain -
Linger a little more
Because you make life worth living
for a great many - just like you

An Imitation Of Macpherson’s “Ossian”.


Dear are the days of youth! Age dwells on their remembrance
through the mist of time. In the twilight he recalls the
sunny hours of morn. He lifts his spear with trembling hand.
“Not thus feebly did I raise the steel before my fathers!”
Past is the race of heroes! But their fame rises on the
harp; their souls ride on the wings of the wind; they hear
the sound through the sighs of the storm, and rejoice in
their hall of clouds. Such is Calmar. The grey stone marks
his narrow house. He looks down from eddying tempests: he
rolls his form in the whirlwind, and hovers on the blast of
the mountain.

In Morven dwelt the Chief; a beam of war to Fingal. His
steps in the field were marked in blood. Lochlin’s sons had
fled before his angry spear; but mild was the eye of Calmar;
soft was the flow of his yellow locks: they streamed like
the meteor of the night. No maid was the sigh of his soul:
his thoughts were given to friendship,—to dark-haired
Orla, destroyer of heroes! Equal were their swords in
battle; but fierce was the pride of Orla:—gentle alone
to Calmar. Together they dwelt in the cave of Oithona.

From Lochlin, Swaran bounded o’er the blue waves. Erin’s
sons fell beneath his might. Fingal roused his chiefs to
combat. Their ships cover the ocean! Their hosts throng on
the green hills. They come to the aid of Erin.

Night rose in clouds. Darkness veils the armies. But the
blazing oaks gleam through the valley. The sons of Lochlin
slept: their dreams were of blood. They lift the spear in
thought, and Fingal flies. Not so the Host of Morven. To
watch was the post of Orla. Calmar stood by his side. Their
spears were in their hands. Fingal called his chiefs: they
stood around. The king was in the midst. Grey were his
locks, but strong was the arm of the king. Age withered not
his powers. “Sons of Morven,” said the hero, “to-morrow we
meet the foe. But where is Cuthullin, the shield of Erin? He
rests in the halls of Tura; he knows not of our coming. Who
will speed through Lochlin, to the hero, and call the chief
to arms? The path is by the swords of foes; but many are my
heroes. They are thunderbolts of war. Speak, ye chiefs! Who
will arise?”

“Son of Trenmor! mine be the deed,” said dark-haired Orla,
“and mine alone. What is death to me? I love the sleep of
the mighty, but little is the danger. The sons of Lochlin
dream. I will seek car-borne Cuthullin. If I fall, raise the
song of bards; and lay me by the stream of Lubar.”—
“And shalt thou fall alone?” said fair-haired Calmar. “Wilt
thou leave thy friend afar? Chief of Oithona! not feeble is
my arm in fight. Could I see thee die, and not lift the
spear? No, Orla! ours has been the chase of the roebuck, and
the feast of shells; ours be the path of danger: ours has
been the cave of Oithona; ours be the narrow dwelling on the
banks of Lubar.”—”Calmar,” said the chief of Oithona,
“why should thy yellow locks be darkened in the dust of
Erin? Let me fall alone. My father dwells in his hall of
air: he will rejoice in his boy; but the blue-eyed Mora
spreads the feast for her Son in Morven. She listens to the
steps of the hunter on the heath, and thinks it is the tread
of Calmar. Let her not say, ‘Calmar has fallen by the steel
of Lochlin: he died with gloomy Orla, the chief of the dark
brow.’ Why should tears dim the azure eye of Mora? Why
should her voice curse Orla, the destroyer of Calmar? Live
Calmar! Live to raise my stone of moss; live to revenge me
in the blood of Lochlin. Join the song of bards above my
grave. Sweet will be the song of Death to Orla, from the
voice of Calmar. My ghost shall smile on the notes of
Praise.” “Orla,” said the son of Mora, “could I raise the
song of Death to my friend? Could I give his fame to the
winds? No, my heart would speak in sighs: faint and broken
are the sounds of sorrow. Orla! our souls shall hear the
song together. One cloud shall be ours on high: the bards
will mingle the names of Orla and Calmar.”

They quit the circle of the Chiefs. Their steps are to the
Host of Lochlin. The dying blaze of oak dim-twinkles through
the night. The northern star points the path to Tura.
Swaran, the King, rests on his lonely hill. Here the troops
are mixed: they frown in sleep; their shields beneath their
heads. Their swords gleam, at distance in heaps. The fires
are faint; their embers fail in smoke. All is hushed; but
the gale sighs on the rocks above. Lightly wheel the Heroes
through the slumbering band. Half the journey is past, when
Mathon, resting on his shield, meets the eye of Orla. It
rolls in flame, and glistens through the shade. His spear is
raised on high. “Why dost thou bend thy brow, chief of
Oithona?” said fair-haired Calmar: “we are in the midst of
foes. Is this a time for delay?” “It is a time for
vengeance,” said Orla of the gloomy brow. “Mathon of Lochlin
sleeps: seest thou his spear? Its point is dim with the gore
of my father. The blood of Mathon shall reek on mine: but
shall I slay him sleeping, Son of Mora? No! he shall feel
his wound: my fame shall not soar on the blood of slumber.
Rise, Mathon, rise! The Son of Conna calls; thy life is his;
rise to combat.” Mathon starts from sleep: but did he rise
alone? No: the gathering Chiefs bound on the plain. “Fly!
Calmar, fly!” said dark-haired Orla. “Mathon is mine. I
shall die in joy: but Lochlin crowds around. Fly through the
shade of night.” Orla turns. The helm of Mathon is cleft;
his shield falls from his arm: he shudders in his blood. He
rolls by the side of the blazing oak. Strumon sees him fall:
his wrath rises: his weapon glitters on the head of Orla:
but a spear pierced his eye. His brain gushes through the
wound, and foams on the spear of Calmar. As roll the waves
of the Ocean on two mighty barks of the North, so pour the
men of Lochlin on the Chiefs. As, breaking the surge in
foam, proudly steer the barks of the North, so rise the
Chiefs of Morven on the scattered crests of Lochlin. The din
of arms came to the ear of Fingal. He strikes his shield;
his sons throng around; the people pour along the heath.
Ryno bounds in joy. Ossian stalks in his arms. Oscar shakes
the spear. The eagle wing of Fillan floats on the wind.
Dreadful is the clang of death! many are the Widows of
Lochlin. Morven prevails in its strength.

Morn glimmers on the hills: no living foe is seen; but the
sleepers are many; grim they lie on Erin. The breeze of
Ocean lifts their locks; yet they do not awake. The hawks
scream above their prey.

Whose yellow locks wave o’er the breast of a chief? Bright
as the gold of the stranger, they mingle with the dark hair
of his friend. ’Tis Calmar: he lies on the ***** of Orla.
Theirs is one stream of blood. Fierce is the look of the
gloomy Orla. He breathes not; but his eye is still a flame.
It glares in death unclosed. His hand is grasped in
Calmar’s; but Calmar lives! he lives, though low. “Rise,”
said the king, “rise, son of Mora: ’tis mine to heal the
wounds of Heroes. Calmar may yet bound on the hills of
Morven.”

“Never more shall Calmar chase the deer of Morven with
Orla,” said the Hero. “What were the chase to me alone? Who
would share the spoils of battle with Calmar? Orla is at
rest! Rough was thy soul, Orla! yet soft to me as the dew of
morn. It glared on others in lightning: to me a silver beam
of night. Bear my sword to blue-eyed Mora; let it hang in my
empty hall. It is not pure from blood: but it could not save
Orla. Lay me with my friend: raise the song when I am dark!”

They are laid by the stream of Lubar. Four grey stones mark
the dwelling of Orla and Calmar. When Swaran was bound, our
sails rose on the blue waves. The winds gave our barks to
Morven:—the bards raised the song.

“What Form rises on the roar of clouds? Whose dark Ghost
gleams on the red streams of tempests? His voice rolls on
the thunder. ’Tis Orla, the brown Chief of Oithona. He was
unmatched in war. Peace to thy soul, Orla! thy fame will not
perish. Nor thine, Calmar! Lovely wast thou, son of blue-
eyed Mora; but not harmless was thy sword. It hangs in thy
cave. The Ghosts of Lochlin shriek around its steel. Hear
thy praise, Calmar! It dwells on the voice of the mighty.
Thy name shakes on the echoes of Morven. Then raise thy fair
locks, son of Mora. Spread them on the arch of the rainbow,
and smile through the tears of the storm.

This One’s Mine
by Ryan P. Kinney

I could tell something was wrong from the moment I saw her. The usual vibrancy that I find so irresistible was replaced with fear and doubt.
“Go look in your bathroom,” she said.
Laying on the counter I saw it. In our over-litigious world the blue donut no longer proclaims the news.
Just one simple word.
“PREGNANT”

I was immediately ****** into the eddy of doubt that plagued my accidental lover.
We had to be sure. So she made an appointment for the coming Tuesday to verify our fears. I anticipated that day with great anxiety. I needed to know, to create a solid path to follow. But the day came with no resolve. The doctor cancelled at the last minute. Life was torturing me for the sin of corrupting Erin’s innocence.
What I feared more than anything was the uncertainty. I’ve always feared it more than death itself. Death is going to happen. It’s inevitable. While I cannot anticipate the when I can try to prepare for it. Uncertainty gives me no straws to grasp at. Nothing to get ready for. Nothing to control, to steer, or get my bearings.

Nonetheless a week later our suspicions were confirmed. The depth charge known as a baby had been detonated into my life. My emotions became chaotic shrapnel, cutting shards into my every thought and confidence.
In those early stages my mind was a flurry of fret. My brain conceived every outlandish scenario: from adoption to challenging for sole custody. Only occasionally would a rational thought throw a life-saver into the churning murk of my thoughts:
“You survived Lisa, Ryan.”
“You will survive this.”

My first difficulty was Erin. She has been a conundrum between my word and my nature since I fell in love with her. For one symbolized by fire it is in my nature to burn that which I hold closest. But my word, the mock chivalry, deceives me into trusting that I will do what is best.
I loved her, I hurt her. A little over a year after I first picked the lock to her chastity I had left a time bomb in her life. No matter how little commitment she wanted from me, she would now be linked to me for the rest of her life.
And while it is undignified, assinine, and unbefitting The Phoenix, the human portion of my soul affixed misplaced blame, then shifted to lament and anger...
“You should have known better. You played with one born of fire and we both got burned.”
“Why was I never good enough for you?”
“My life was finally going in a direction I wanted it and now this comes to **** everything up.”
Angry more at myself but blaming Erin, I sought revenge on my life through self-pity and self-destruction. I desperately sought the affection of a woman I hadn’t corrupted. Yet, I was still afraid to corrupt another with my desperation. Eventually, I came full circle. It took both of us to create this child. It will take both of us to continue creating him. Although we may never be one, our unity will still exist in our son. It will have to be enough.

However, there was another storm on the horizon. And its name was Kinney.
My family is a curse, who it is my responsibility to love. No one else can understand them. They don’t even love themselves very well. Ours is a family where dysfunction is the only way we function. It’s like some unsolvable, incomprehendable equation that must still exist if the fundamental laws of reality are to hold true. No one else should have to take this taint of Kinney upon them. Yet someone now does, one poor mother and a marked child.
I am sorry that you both will have to share the blight of Kinney.
And, so very, VERY proud of that.
There is a twisted pride in surviving the curse of the Kinney. This survival is a quest to turn all that dysfunction into unyielding potential, of creating something beautiful from all the filth. Is it any wonder that I fought so hard with Erin to ensure that the label “Kinney” was somewhere in my son’s name? Another son to carry on the sullied name, another to try to make it mean something. The mark of Kinney is my stamp of selfish pride in having created something from nothing, my greatest art project.

Initially, the reward of my child felt as though I had been sentenced to 18 to life. I had reached a point in my life where I was ready to move on from Erin. I lamented something as trivial as the loss of my love life. My whole life was soon to belong to someone else. Control of my existence has shifted, seemingly overnight, from the culmination of my experiences to a little person not even half-formed yet. A deadline had been placed on my youth.

Slowly, acceptance began to quell the hurricane of emotions and uncertainty turned into certain doom. I began to make plans. In true “Ryan” fashion I looked to the future. It was time to get to work.
My anticipated son gave my dreams a sense of urgency, a deadline. A series of shelved, unfinished art projects burst into an organized chaos of activity. My art studio was erected in four months. A room full of storage was converted into an actual room. My most personal space, my bedroom, has always undergone radical changes each time my personal mindscape must radically change. It, like my life, was incomplete. It now better reflected the man I wanted to become; chaotic, nuanced, lived-in; not the man whose most brilliant pieces lay hidden in boxes. My entire foundation, which my home had become since the last foundation was shattered, underwent and is still undergoing major baby renovations. It is time I made room for someone else in my life.

To the beautiful mother of my son, who I will always love if for no other reason than she gave me this new life, I say this:

“Just as fire breeds we too shall watch our little spark explode into life. We will guide, tend, and fuel. It will be our job to give the energy of the universe form and function. The fires of a phoenix and the faith of a believer burn within our child. As Blessid Union of Souls says, “Love will find a way.” Ours will find its way into our child. I love you Erin, but I will love our child more.”

I remain full of doubts and insecurities  in my life as one self will end when our child is born. Born of con artists and addicts, this cliché haunts me, “Can I do it right?” The only promise I can make is that the world will never be the same. The Phoenix is drawing to a close. The latest manifestation of Ryan, The AntiFather shall rise from its ashes, bearing, like all spent phoenixes, new life.

As I enter this new chapter in my life I have one thing left to express:

Of all the people it could have been with, of all the doubters and underestimaters, all the possibilities, potentials, mistakes, and failures. For all my incessant ramblings, babblings, worries, and obsessions. To the world in which I bring my son, I say this,

“******* *****, this one’s mine.”

The news spread over the countryside
As a clatter from iron rails,
The ominous sound of clacketty-clack
From their intersecting trails,
The plodding Goods of the 0-4-0
To the proud Express from Cheam,
It muttered as it was going past,
‘They’re going to get rid of Steam!’

The sudden shock brought an answering hoot
From the stack of the proud Express,
That whispered by on its 4-6-2
But shuddered to draw its breath.
‘And what will they pull their Pullmans with?’
As it passed through an April shower,
A 4-6-0 on another track:
‘They’re moving to diesel power!’

The steam from the Earl of Erin laid
A trail through the valley floor,
Its coals glowed red from the firebox grid
As the fireman shovelled more,
A Day Excursion that quietly sat
To wait for the train to pass,
Had whispered, ‘Sorry to see you go,
You’re King of the Master Class.’

The smoke that billowed from out the stack
Had turned from white to black,
The footplate shuddered, the furnace roared
As it raced along the track,
‘They say they’re moving to diesel power
And they’re getting rid of steam,’
The Earl of Erin had hurtled by
As a Tank Engine had screamed!

The driver, checking the frantic pace
Was trying to slow it down,
But nothing worked, not even the brakes,
‘We’re headed for Hampton Town!
We shouldn’t be doing sixty-five
We’re twenty over the top,
He slammed the door of the firebox shut
And the fireman’s shovel dropped.

The tender’s couplings opened up
And the Pullmans fell away,
The Earl of Erin had surged ahead
With a new found power that day,
It passed a struggling 0-4-0
As it headed toward the sea,
Gave one long blast on its whistle then
To say, ‘I’m finally free!’

The fireman jumped at the water tower,
The glass was going down,
The driver jumped when it hurtled through
The Halt at Hampton Town,
The Earl of Erin went racing on
When the sea came into view,
But locked the brakes at the water’s edge
Just as the boiler blew.

The Earl of Erin’s a rusted wreck
That still sits there on the line,
And children crawl on its footplate there
And dream of another time,
A time of dragons, a time of trains
A time they can only dream,
The age of romance, gone at last,
It died with the age of steam!

David Lewis Paget