Diary of an Old Fart

Prelude 80

2010-06-07T13:59:00.001-07:00

Aaron gazed dreamily at the rolling waves crashing endlessly like a nagging wife on uncaring rocks, battle after battle only briefly interluded by the sea’s sulky withdrawal. He liked this place: desolate and alone, it was unfrequented by all except that occasional startled cormorant, and he came here to escape, to think. He sat hunched over, braced against the icy wind, drawing his knees

Prelude 79

2010-05-31T00:50:00.001-07:00

Aaron woke with a start and listened, his body immediately taught with war-trained anticipation. A soft clatter sounded from the kitchen. Fiona stirred next to him, but he put his hand gently on her shoulder. "Shhh," he hissed, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed. "It's that neighbour's cat in the kitchen again - I'm going to get it this time and wring it's blasted neck" Fiona

Prelude 78

2010-05-31T00:48:00.001-07:00

Aaron pushed the reluctant door to his new home open to reveal a wall emblazoned with startling graffiti: "Fuck the counsel", presumably written by some embittered and illiterate previous tenan1t. "Fuck the counsel!" screamed the graffiti emblazoned wall, the enraged residue of the previous evicted tenants of his new home, a "room with a view" according to his sardonic soup kitchen mate - very

Prelude 77

2010-05-31T00:36:00.000-07:00

Aaron clutched his crumpled shopping list in his hand as he waded through the sea of shoppers. Why? he asked himself. Idiot! How could he have forgotten it was Saturday! Any day of the week was his for the taking - one of the few benefits of being unemployed - but he chose today. Complete muppet! The aisles were jam packed with hapless trolley pushers entangled in commercial confusion.

Prelude 76

2010-05-31T00:34:00.001-07:00

“That one over there looks like a poodle,” said Mollie, pointing at a cloud that ambled along slowly, amidst a tumble of contented friends, watched under the cerulean sky by a radiant summer sun. Aaron squinted at the cloud. He hated this game. It was a cloud, and it looked like a cloud not a poodle, because it was that – a cloud. “It looks like a fish to me,” he replied sardonically. Mollie

Prologue 11

2009-11-26T03:36:00.000-08:00

Aaron scratched his head. What on earth did theories of general relativity have to do with the real world? He had enjoyed Newtonian mechanics at school, what with it's ability to accurately describe motion and such things, but this? It all felt a bit too abstract and irrelevant to the problems of engineering. He sighed, pushed away his books and sat upright, stretching his arms out. The

Prologue 10

2009-11-18T13:58:00.000-08:00

Aaron was woken by a loud banging on the front door and the blaring of sirens. "Fire! Everybody out!" Soon he and Joe were gathered outside, shivering in the icy wind along with the rest of the building's motley inhabitants. He smiled at the the sight of Joe wrapped in nothing but a blanket, his scrawny bare legs poking out the bottom. Nearby the old man from upstairs stood to attention,

Prologue 9

2009-11-18T13:48:00.000-08:00

First exam results today. A's all around - the folks will be pleased. Joe however barely scraped a pass. I don't know what's up with him. Seems to have his mind other things lately, but doesn't seem inclined to talk about it. Got another letter from Mary, the second this week. I really must write, but life seems so very full at the moment.

Prologue 8

2009-11-10T12:08:00.000-08:00

Dearest Mother We have arrived and are now finally settled, full of excitement and anticipation at the adventure that awaits. The apartment is just half a mile away from the university, on a lively road. It is very cheap but needed a desperate clean; Joe and I slaved away for 2 hours before it began to look remotely habitable. How you must be laughing at the thought of Joe and me on our knees

Prologue 7

2009-11-10T12:00:00.000-08:00

Aaron looked around the room in disgust. "Is this it, then?" Joe nodded, his usual confident demeanour dented by the appalling state of the place. The flat, a dingy two room affair with combined lounge kitchenette, had not been cleaned in years apparently, and the dust, like the rank smell, hung heavily, tangibly in the air. "For God's sake, Joe," said Aaron. "What have you got us into this

Prologue 6

2009-11-10T11:49:00.001-08:00

"You're not seriously going to read the whole way?" Joe asked. Aaron looked up from his book. "And why not?" "Because, old man, I am so terribly bored and we need some female company." "Joe, you go on ahead. I'm not in the mood." Joe looked at his friend scornfully and said, "You never are, but that's why I'm here." He snatched the book from Aaron's hands and darted out of the compartment

Prologue 5

2009-11-09T12:56:00.000-08:00

I know she wanted me to propose but I couldn't. I'm not ready, at least not for that. I stand at the brink of an ocean of thrilling possibilities, my life ahead of me, and I long to taste and to drink deep, but not whilst fettered to premature promises. I hope she understands and that she will wait for me. I promised to write, and we will see each other again soon, but I need to do this

Prologue 4

2009-11-08T07:59:00.001-08:00

Aaron never tired of holding her hand. He still remembered the first time: the tentative reaching out, the awkward intertwining of fingers looking for that perfect match, the sweating of palms that would not be let go. The breeze played gently with Molly's long auburn hair, causing it to rise and fall like waves of autumn gold. He could just catch her scent, like musky roses, still so wildly

Prologue 3

2009-11-08T07:41:00.000-08:00

“Here, boy!” The black Labrador looked at them briefly before returning to the smell that had caught his attention. He wasn't sure yet if it was rabbit or wild fowl but either way this was more interesting than his master. “George!!” This time there was a command in the voice of Aaron's father and the dog obeyed, bounding along the path towards his master, pink, wet tongue lolling a great

Prologue 2

2009-11-08T07:31:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary. No that's just silly. Dear Maxwell. Who's Maxwell? An imaginary friend, of course. But why Maxwell, and why a man and not a woman? Could I be as open with a woman? Even a fictious woman? I think it is rather typical that I begin something as simple as a diary with more questions than anything else. Ok, so here goes. It has been a good day. Last day of school. Forever!

Prologue 1

2009-11-08T06:48:00.000-08:00

Aaron watched the flames shoot high up into the sky, singeing the trees above. “I told you we had enough petrol,” he said. Joe smirked at him. “You are too cautious, my friend. The books need to be sent up to the heavens in glory, ne'er to return.” Aaron smiled reluctantly. Joe was right. Of the two of them Aaron was the more conservative, but that's what made their friendship so solid –

Done!?

2009-11-02T10:51:00.000-08:00

Well folks, my tale is done. Yes, I know I've said that before. :) A grand old total of over 35000 words! Would you believe it? I would like to say a very, very special thanks to you Jinksy and LegalMist who have offered me so much support and encouragement through these Last Days of Aaron. Last Days is what I would like to call the book which I am going to have a go at getting published.

Epilogue 51

2009-10-29T14:39:00.001-07:00

I sat on the rocks staring at the waves roll in, crashing forcefully against the jagged shore. I tuned in to hear the roar of the ocean and the fierce howl of the storm. This scene was a far cry from the sun drenched beach of my memories, but it was safe here - I would hurt them no more. The sun broke suddenly through the heavy skies, sending a bright shaft of light to dance gracefully on the

Epilogue 50

2009-10-29T14:39:00.000-07:00

Anne opened her eyes and looked up at the white, hospital ceiling. “Mummy?” Liesel woke from her restless slumber on the chair next to Anne’s bed and leapt up. “Anne!” she cried, hugging her daughter fiercely, tears flowing from her eyes. The remained like that for a while, Liesel stroking her daughter’s hair gently. “I’m so tired, Mummy” “That’s ok, Sweetie,” Liesel replied, “Mummy is here

Epilogue 49

2009-10-29T14:38:00.000-07:00

The darkness clung to us like an icy cloak, dragging us down, but I pressed onward towards the light, holding Anne tightly in my arms. I felt a wave of rage as I resisted the pull, but with all my strength continued forward. Finally, with a horrible scream, we were free of its pull, standing again in the middle of the field of wild flowers. Anne clutched me, her eyes shut tight. “It’s over,

Epilogue 48

2009-10-29T11:16:00.000-07:00

The heart monitor flashed hypnotically, reminding them that their little girl, though comatose, was still alive. Tony held Liesel tightly as she wept. He closed his eyes, grieving quietly. Outside the hospital room Jojo sat, waiting, thinking about the events of the past few months. Suddenly she got up and left. After around half an hour she arrived at the cemetery and walked towards Elsbeth

Epilogue 47

2009-10-28T11:15:00.001-07:00

Liesel shook her daughter gently, trying to rouse her. “Wake up, sleepy head - time for school.” Anne did not stir.

Epilogue 46

2009-10-28T11:10:00.001-07:00

I reached the end of the cobbled road, now standing alone before a vast field of wild flowers. The sun shone brilliantly overhead, providing a welcome respite from the gloom. She stood in the field waiting. I waved and headed towards her, reaching out my arms. She smiled radiantly, her little eyes twinkling in the sunlight, and ran towards me laughing. I scooped her up in my arms and swung

Epilogue 45

2009-10-27T11:13:00.000-07:00

Jo watched her sister as she played listlessly with her food. “What’s up, Lies?” Liesel looked up, her eyes wet with held back tears. “I’m so worried about Anne, Jojo. She has become so strange.” “Strange?” replied Jojo. “In what way?” “She spends so much time on her own, and seems to prefer it that way. It used be impossible to shut her up but now she hardly talks to me anymore. She

Epilogue 44

2009-10-27T11:10:00.000-07:00

She sat opposite me, talking. I looked at her lips, trying to discern the words, but she spoke too quickly. Desperately I focused my mind with renewed concentration, observing every movement of her mouth, imagining the shapes that the words might take, and tried to imagine moving those shapes to my mind. At first nothing happened, but then gradually a sound became evident, like the rustle of a