why should you

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
What would u do , human life is a simple glimpse of a star burst in the life of our galaxy ........... so how do u make sure u maximise what time u have ..

Submitted: July 03, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 03, 2008



He nestled his head down into his pillow, pushing his arm up his side to enable him to tug at his blankets trying his darndest to pull them up further around his head.

But feeling the taughtness of the blankets he knew full well that the resistance against his efforts to make them move was purely down to the fact that his bed covers were tucked tightly under the mattress at each side. For the uninitiated it would honestly have appeared that he was actually sort of tied down to the bed by the covers, but in truth it felt so good, so secure, so warm and just…so right and mother, always, yes always tucked him in this way…..and pulled the bedclothes as tight as she could - and he loved it.

Squirming and pushing his little body further down into his mound of bedclothes, tugging, plucking and pulling at his blankets, nestling, slipping and sliding down to push them even higher up around his head, he snuggled and nestled his body in – he felt even more secure, warm and sleepy, like an artic explorer tucked into his oil skin sleeping bag…….defended from the sub zero temperatures.

“Sleep now “ she called to him, in a sweet warm whisper, as she stole towards the bedroom door. Then again the words dripped like syrup from her mouth “ sleep now my little man “ and with the sweetness of the words still lapping him“ sleep; sleep “ the door closed with just the slightest of hushed clicks and the darkness closed in around him like honey.

He full well knew what to expect, as he knowingly prepared himself for his nightly visit: to the land of dreams .He peered through his eyelashes as his closing eyelids sought to shut out the remaining gloom and turn it to the darkness of sleep, but he forced them apart as each time they sought to close. He struggled, like a mere mortal like a man fighting a giant ……to keep his mind on the subject of falling asleep and as the light rapidly dimmed to the black of night his pupils sent confused signals to his brain and he again determined to define shape in the darkness, his mind drifted. Then suddenly, like a candle flickering, in the breeze from an open window casting a myriad of prancing and leaping dancing shadows, before he could take control…….he was taken.

Almost like floating on a cloud, he slid into the driving seat, the soft supple cream kid leather giving way to his slightest movement, supporting, cupping and caressing him. Reaching forward he scalloped his hands around and caressed the silky smooth polished hardness of the wooden steering wheel, then lightly slid his fingers along the mirrored smoothness of the polished dashboard. And knowingly without hindrance letting the lids of his eyes close together, so gently, they almost kissed like the touching wings of a butterfly in full flight, he inhaled a deep satisfying breath and the clean luxuries smell of leather and wood mixed together like a stream of scented vapour as it almost seductively slid down his nasal passage. He sat there nestled, cocooned inside his cockpit of hide and wood. Feeling the tautness of the pierced metal pedal through the sole of his right shoe, he dipped his foot and the responsive deep throb of the v twelve sent rumbles reverberating through the whole of the vehicle and up into his body. The horsepower, so well hidden below the long bonnet that stretched away in front of him, had almost without warning leapt into action and forced him to open his eyes. He effortlessly pushed down the clutch with just the slightest of movement of his left foot, slid the gear stick forward into an acknowledging notch. Then, now wide starry eyed and brimming smile, he gently slid his foot down the accelerator pedal –effortlessly dipping it again a second time, bringing a perfect repeat of the responsive roar from the shackled beast beneath the hood, already reverberating in his ears from his last dip of the pedal. With a heave of his chest and a deep breath of satisfaction he lifted his left foot till he felt the slightest of bite from the clutch and as the engine tone dipped, squeezing the button on the top of the hand brake with the very tip of his left thumb, realising the lever and letting it drop to lie parallel with the transmission tunnel. Holding his breath he pushed the throttle down, his heartbeat seemingly matched the pulse of the engine. The beast slid effortlessly forward and he felt a deep sense of satisfaction grow inside himself as the warmth of the sun caressed his body within his open cockpit. Gaining momentum – he felt great, secured and tightly strapped in….. And yet he felt free, free from any encumbrance, like a soaring bird, the heat and warming rays of the sun beat down, that wonderful gentle caressing warm wind puffing rather than blowing across his face as the speed increased, just caressing his skin, the throb of the engine and thunder of the exhaust pipes ringing in his ears- he was in absolute heaven. As the monster gained momentum, dipping the clutch, he slipped the gear lever from first into second in one quick, smooth move of his wrist. Then with a broad grin that would have made any Cheshire cat a hit ………he floored the throttle. The beast lurched as the exhilarating force of the power surge pushed him back into his seat. ……And his heart beat pounding in his ears, matched that of the engine …the world just flew bye and the aroma of scented heaven filled his nostrils .He dipped the clutch again and thrust the gear lever into third, flooring the throttle, sending the rev counter spinning like a toy windmill and the world flowing by his eye’s in a stream of gossamer glimmer, glancing down he witnessed the Speedo needle wish past the 90 mark and felt the ongoing surge of power. .

Then, somewhere – far, far away in the distance, a voice called, so far away in fact that he could not quite hear it above the snarl of the engine. Then just as quickly as he had let his mind drift, he was brought back to the day at hand – “ Come on dad, “ shouted a small voice from just in front of him, so close he could feel the warmth of the breath on his nose and cheek, the plead quickly followed by another …with a whiney plead attached to it, at the end “ Dadddd”... “ You said you would build a sand castle with us “ the two voices bleated in harmony “ it’s not fair…you said you would “ rounded of one of them. And then before he knew it small hands were gripping his arms from both sides, pulling and tugging at him. He was sure this was not part of his dream and although he would loved to have been able to turn over and slip, quickly without effort back into the warm deepness and luxuriesness of his gleaming charger, but he already knew in his own mind that this was not a possibility.

He squeezed opened one eye, squinting to see through the glare of the sun directly overhead. Suddenly becoming fully aware – as if someone had opened the floodgates, and the cacophony of sound flooded into his ears and the splash of real life entered his mortal being. The chitter-chatter of hundreds of people spread over a flat plain of sand itself created an audibility of a choir intermingled with the shrill squawk of the gulls mixed with the feint splish splash of the waves churning against the sea shore, all blown by constant drone of the seaside breeze, mixed with the hustle and bustle of the crowds on the seafront behind him, where all kinds of seaside delights from ninety-nine’s, candyfloss to burgers and meals and snacks of all kinds could be attained and of course time could be spent in the penny amusement arcades pitting ones wits against the bandits with one arm or the computer game consoles and the shooters…………. that he just loved.

As he opened both of his eyes, the world around him at first, sort of peered in and then in an instant flooded in, like a cascading torrent. Before him stretched a vista of golden sand, interspaced with groups of bodies till further away – seemingly far, far in the distance the glitter of sun danced across the white tops of the waves as they themselves seemed to rush the shore line in droves like the ranks of a well rehearsed army. “ Come one Dad “ shouted one small voice quite insistently. “ You said you would “, interposed another and then between them both, like a choir of angels they chanted …“ Dad……….. Dad……… come on “ .

At this, he opened his eye’s wide, glanced to one side and saw peering directly at him only inches from his face – big smiling brown eye’s, eye’s he knew and loved so much, so close that his focus saw little else, not even the sandy face they formed part of. Then feeling his mouth turn to a wide Cheshire cat grin, turning his head to the other side, just as a high-pitched shrill of laughter caught his ear he saw another sandy face peering at him from under a sun hat. He just started to call out “ You little devils “ as a cold wet hand landed directly on his hot sun kissed chest, making him gasp…. and another voice full of laughter, joined in the medley. “ John…wake up you louse ….you did promise them both a day of sandcastles, splashing in the water and ice creams “ …. “ So it’s time you started “ and with that a beach bucket of cold sea water erupted onto his body and he leapt up .. Like an athlete leaping for the high bar, grabbing at stars.

They ran, he ran……………..shrieks and shouts of laughter and sheer delight as John chased all three of them across the beach, zigzagging and dodging sun bathing bodies and the other occupants of the beach, heading towards the water and the white pounding waves that almost seemed to be creeping up the beach to meet them , it was almost as if the waves were there by invitation, to meet and greet the whooping and hollering fun seekers.

Seemingly, they, all four of them …reached the edge of the splishy splashy at the very same time, feet kicked, sending streams of water into the air, shouts and cries of delight ensued as each and every one – let go all emotion to simply enjoy the moment, laugh and revel in the enjoyment and pure delight of the activity they had together.

Then soaking wet, they held hands and tripped together in a line sploshing and splashing through the shallows, with the hot sun and warm constant blowing of the wind drying the wetness to leave streaks of sand and salt across their flesh. For each of them this was heaven – it just had to be. Little hands held big hands, little hearts beat faster and bigger hearts melted at the pure delight of the moment spent together. As they chit chatted their way back to the pile of towels, they all knew was home for the day, the excitement grew between them all as the level of expectancy for the next finding for them all grew like a hot air filled balloon, tugging at it’s fixing lines – trying to break free and explore the freedom of the stratosphere. Then as the adults towelled their hair and the terrible two bucketed and spaded ………the sun shone down and constant wisps of warm air caressed them all.

“ Ice creams – next “ John called out … “ who wants a Choc ice.. Or a lolly? “ And a day to remember for each of then for all of their lives, was underway.

The pavement was hot, under his small bare feet and he sort of hopped as he walked trying not to let the heat burn the soles of his feet. “ Come on silly “ mother said, “ time to put on your pumps “ … and she held him by his shoulders and he slid each of his sandy feet into the welcoming cool of his shoes. “ Dad, can we go into the mussement’s “ he asked … “ mussement’s “ said John with a laughing giggle.. “ Yes we can go see the mussement s and we can have some fun ”… and together they walked hand in hand towards the palace of fun, the penny machines, one arm bandits and of course his favourites – the shooters. He could well remember his first ever encounter with an arcade shooter, he was but a small lad himself, but it was not a place his parents would ever have taken him, for they shunned such places, never having even attempted to take him or allow him the pleasure of a fun fare … In fact it was by sheer chance that he was out on a school trip and with one-hour free time to spend, before being due back to the coach park. He had been persuaded by his mates to go into the dark gloom of the arcade – somewhere he had never been before and he could well remember that he had walked round just watching everyone else seemingly totally immersed in whatever they were doing. His group of chums seemingly evaporating into thin air as soon as they entered the arcade, breaking into smaller numbers - each little set going their separate way to find their own favourite. Mixing with the already engrossed occupants. Some ended up pushing coins into slots and pulling handles to make the reels clitter clatter as the numbers spun round, others pushing buttons and making lights flash and ringing noises emit from the machine. Some found the horseracing machine and placed their bets, hoping to find the winner and double or even treble their bet, most of course loosing. A few ventured to find the penny cascade, to push their two pence pieces into the slot to try to dislodge a chunk of staked cash and cause a landslide of coins to cascade down the winning shoot. Two even sought out the “ catch a fluffy “ with a grab machine and feverishly loaded coins into the slot, sending the grabber out on it’s wire to drop when the red button was pushed, trying to lift out a soft toy –of course under the pretence that it was for a favoured younger sibling. And just occasionally there was the whoop and shout as one of them or another of the occupants won something and the clatter of coins as they cascaded down the shoot to arrive before the delighted recipient. This was like another world to him……….. an alien world, somewhere he could have never imagined.

Everywhere the sounds, the sights and smells of an arcade, simple for some – for him it was another planet – did he love it –he was just not to sure.

He had walked the floor for nearly half of his precious hour, the droning sounds and chinking and whirring of payouts from the machines, mixed with the constant flashing and crashing of coins as they tumbled and of course the continual smell of frying chips available from the snack bar, all intermingled. But now his initial interest in all the sights and sounds of the arcade had now started to wane. Yes - all had initially been of interest to him, it had been a finding out for him, something new, but seemingly not quite enough of an interest to make him actually want to play any of the machines, for he had not actually stopped to play any ……..or even watch others play, as many did. He had in fact now gone past the point of loosing interest and had decided to make for the exit and to spend the last of his freedom on the beach.

When by the actual turning rounded to retrace his steps to the door, he faced a corner he seemed to have missed on his previous four circuits of the arcade and there stood singularly in the corner was a machine unlike any of the others he had seen. This machine did not seem to have an arm to pull was certainly something more substantial than any of the others within the arcade, there was a big screen at the back of it .. and a platform where you could stand at the front of it , a box and some wires attached to the side …….and as if to signify it’s importance …………… it was in this little corner tucked way, as if being kept, only for the very few initiated.

Initially he just stopped and stood like a statue; it was as though he had found the entrance to the secret garden and he knew this was something special and without venturing any further he just gazed.

There stood in front of the machine was a youth some years older than him pushing a coin into the box where the wires were attached ………. then seemingly without pulling any handle or pushing any button, the youngster grabbed at something by the side of the box ……. Pulling it up into the air and levelled it at the screen ………it was a gun.

His heart leapt, fluttered and flew – his eye’s nearly popped out of their sockets , his brain went into overdrive ………… was this a dream …. For he still had dreams about being a gunslinger, a gun tootin, shooting cowboy. Yes, Ok this was the stuff of younger boy’s but his dreams were his own and he cherished them every night, never ever had he been in a position to live one.

In his dream he was goodie, wore golden spurs, a white full brimmed hat. Wore his six-shooter hung low, well oiled and ready to fight….. And of course this one never seemed to run out of ammo – no matter how many shots he had let go . And of course those baddies were always there, sneaking and skulking around, everywhere, trying their darndest at every turn to shoot him. They fought like daemons, but one shot from him was enough to send any baddie, no matter how big, six feet under – and of course, he never missed.

He stood there, mouth wide, gawping in utter amazement as the youth pointed the gun and commenced firing at a screen some feet in front on him. This was like a revelation, he never knew such games existed and he was absolutely enthralled by the whole episode – so much so, that when the lad had finally finished, placing the gun back into the holster attached to the side of the machine and walked way. He slid forward without even thinking about who could be watching him, something totally out of character, and then without hesitation, he grabbed the gun and pulled it from it’s holster, pointed it at the screen and squeezing the trigger.

Like a rabbit in the headlights of a car he waited – for the retort of the gun, but nothing happened. Curious that there was no bang he pulled the trigger again and again – but all to no avail. Then just as he was about to give up and walk on, he suddenly thought about coins and realising that there was a cost to play the game with the gun, he fumbled in his pocket for the few coins he knew he had.

Pushing his only pound coin into the slot and hearing the satisfying clunk as it dropped into the machine, he again reached for the gun and pulled it from the holster, than as he did so it activated the mechanism to start the shoot out and the screen sprang to life. Threatening figures leapt out from behind boulders and bushes – pointing guns directly at him. He responded by pointing his gun at them and pulled the trigger, one by one he picked them off - never firing anymore than one shot at each, but he was so quick that it was as if he was ahead of the game, he was actually waiting for something to happen on screen and as each event unwound in front of him he responded by blasting everything that moved. Then, seemingly as quickly as it had started – the screen went dark and his adventure was over.

As he squeezed in the last of their beach gear and as quietly as he could, closed the boot, he glanced up to the last remnants of the yellow waning sun just dipping into the sea, creating a pure band of orange, yellow and red as it plunged like a demented fire ball into the thrashing sea. God, he thought to himself, this has been a day to remember. Ten o’clock and nighttime had arrived, the glorious warm day now turning as an edge on the constant breeze dipped to cool with a hint of damp. As was customary on their annual pilgrimage to their seaside town, they had feasted in the local cafjust off the seafront as the day turned to evening where they could use the toilet to remove the sand, the evidence of a beach day and freshen up.

Now fed, watered and preened, it was time to head for home. His clan, now all readied, strapped into their seats in the car, all eye’s closed – sleeping. Young minds most probably full of dreams of wondrous adventure, and of course his beloved who all day had been brimming with the exhilaration and exuberance of sharing, finding out and learning together. Most probably reliving in dreamtime the events of the day. He laughed to himself as he thought about the arcade and the shooting gallery – cowboy’s ….. his son was one, just like he was – still , wearing those chinking, clinking spurs and a Stetson, getting those eight shots from any six gun. A broad grin swept across his face as the thoughts made him smile, for they shared the secret together – father and son. He cast a glance at his wife, her eyes firmly shut with the two kids either side of her – all three sound asleep. Just at that moment he felt extremely proud, a pride any father feels in his family, he had a big part to play in all of their lives and they in his, he loved every second of it and every second of them. In the semi darkness of the car park, he slid the key into the ignition and just as he did so, he witnessed a streetlight near to him turning on to cast shadows where just seconds before nothing but dim light had shared the space with him. Then without talking, for there was no one awake within the car to share or actually witness his retort – he drove from the car park, turned the corner onto the side street and headed for home. It would a two hours drive and obviously a very late arrival for them all, but this was one of their special days and time was never allowed into the equation.

This was one day spent together at their favourite little seaside town, where although they had been several times before, each time they came back they found something new to explore and enjoy .As he turned the corner heading for the main road he glanced ahead to his left and glimpsed the small shop half hidden behind it’s striped canopy, the shop he had passed many times now, but had never ventured into. A corner shop, just like the many in the country he said to himself each and very time he had passed it - over the past few years. The shop doorway was in the semi darkness, lit by a street lamp some twenty feet away and with seemingly a token night light shinning through what was originally a large shop window but was now partially shaded by boxes stacked against it on the inside. The rest of the window was obscured by an array of posters and a notice board leaving just a small strip across the top as a way of letting light into the shop itself and of course the two glass panels in the half timbered front door. Most probably just like our local corner shop, he thought, with a local shop-keeper trying to make a buck and doing his best to be of service to his customers. All those regular local customers, who all know each other and all brought a weekly shop from a man behind a counter, an institution – in itself he mused .

As he drove passed it, he cast a quick second glance over his shoulder and thought he caught a glimpse of movement inside, but at near 10.30pm … he doubted what he had seen – anyway it looks like a right old dive, he though, but even if this was just a typical corner shop …… with all the usual corner shops goods …but this one of course would sell bottles of seafood in jars, cockles, muscles, whelks & cans of fresh air , no fresh – sea air …he sniggered – another thing to explore, maybe next time they came back this way again – next year.

As he drove further, the shop simply slipped from his mind replaced by the driving as the gusting wind blew the splitter splatter of rain onto his windscreen requiring him to flick on the wipers and his concentration on the job at hand grew. Before long the motorway was joined and the long haul home had begun proper.

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