When i was young and i mean 6 or 7 years old, I was reading Charles Dickens “Great Expectations”. It’s strange to me that other people dont read for pleasure, and for me it all goes back to Great Expectations. I was hooked from the first line, I didnt start reading it ofcourse my mother read it to me to begin with, but i got frustrated at the time it took, and the fact that I had to wait till night time to hear the next part of the story. So I begged mum to let me read it myself, sure that if i could handle the spot books i could handle Great Expectations.

And in a way I was right. Sure it was painfull, I can only imagine the pain that Mum went through as I stutterd out and vainly tried to grap the language before me.  I mean can you imagine, not only was it (and still is) a complex book, but it is in the formal english style of the 1800’s, an unfamiliar language to a 7 year old.  But she perserverd and in the end, i completed the book.

Thanks Mum.

Heres one for you.

A single childhood memory, doesnt have to be a momentous time in your life, or especially poignant, it doesnt need to reveal anything about you, just needs to be true. A single moment from your childhood. Post em at your blogs if you want to or dont. But sometimes its fun to remember.

Added some people to my blogroll, Take the chance to get to know them one and all. Good peoples.

Out
- dont touch the bubble

Lest We Forget

“Choose” Blue intoned, his voice carrying the hint of a question.

“Why?” Answered Red, pushing her self away from the table and the board that lay in-front of her, her eyes glinting with mirth. “The pieces are the same, only the colour is different” She seemed to float backwards into the depths of the darkness that surrounded them, sitting somehow lasciviously and at her ease at the same time. Her chair seemed to cradle her, perfectly matched to her personality as if it where simply another piece of the clothing she was barely wearing.

“Because you must choose, it is your turn.” Blue replied. In contrast he sat uncomfortably atop his chair, perching as though might an eagle constrained to the ground to long, eager to be away. “Besides.” He added smiling in his own way, the smile of a predator before the chase. “The pieces are not all that similar, only superficially”

He held up two pawns, one white one black. The black pawn seemed oddly twisted turned in on itself, hiding it seemed, if indeed a board piece could be said to hide, but still deep within it there seemed to be a strength not yet taped. In contrast the white piece appeared to glow somewhat, brightly and without fear. It was warm to the touch, but it seemed hollow somehow, as if all its glory where on the outside with little substance within to hold it all together.

“Perhaps” Red agreed “However the rules are the same, no matter the side” Her voice carried exasperation “The game changes nothing, because we are constrained by the rules”

“Look deeper” Blue smiled “The rules might be the same, even the moves, but the pieces sister, the pieces are what matters.” He gestured to the pieces, pawns, aligned along the board “When we play them.” And then to the Court pieces laying outside the board “Then they play themselves, that is what matters sister, the pieces!” His blue eyes glinted with excitement when he spoke, he grinned his grin of expectation as his sister ran a hand through her deep burgundy hair sighing she lifted the white piece out of his hand and returned it to its place on the board. The board moving with her so that as she lay the piece down the row of white pieces lay in-front of her, the black opposite her. The court pieces to her left seemed to grow and shift in expectation as she did, anticipating the time when they might have to choose a side, choose a fate.

“None of these pieces is new to me.” She said studying the board, and running a critical eye over the court pieces. “I have seen them all before.” She waved her left hand absent mindedly towards the court pieces as her right hovered over a pawn. “The court always looses no matter how you shepperd them”

“I know” Blue replied leaning back now watching his sisters face, the far reaching darkness that surrounded them, seemed to be encroaching on their small circle of light. He glanced not without caution into the black. “But we are not the only players.” The dark seemed to swell at his off-hand acknowledgement straining against the circle of light. “But wining doesnt matter sister. Only loosing counts” He sighed and gestured with a finality towards his sister, a move long practiced, a formality it seemed. And spoke with great lament.

“So we beging anew”

“This has all happened before” Red said, the words carrying a final formality, like a litany of faith She reached and moved her first piece lifting it high

“And will again” Blue replied  with equal formality just as red peice finished its move.

*******

Marcus woke.