Answering Doubt

An old man retires to a quiet place and holds conversation with a young boy that isn’t there. He is bombarded with questions in the eager small boy’s youthful enthusiasm, but alas they resonate and reverberate within the old man’s head. Clenching his hands, he bows his head and seeks clarity and wisdom to silence the young boy’s inquiry, for fear his unanswered questions are being to agitate the child.

Then there was silence. The young boy had fallen quiet and vanished. Clarity returned once more to the old man’s mind, though no answers to questions asked, for all doubts had been removed.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Relationship Ideals

The front door opened where a tired an weary female came in from the cold outside. She was greeted with a cozy blanket that had been warming on the radiator, put there for her arrival. It was being held by the smiling face of her husband.

Wrapping it around her, he led her to the sofa where he began removing her shoes so as to rub her aching feet. The room was full of the scent of an evening meal, almost ready, cooking in the oven. A glass of wine already poured, waiting on the table and the sound of running water for the bath he’d readied for her return.

These are the things I believe a partner wants from a relationship, not coming home to x-box and the prospect of then having to choose and cook tea. I might be wrong.

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Punishment NSFW +18

Laid over my knee

Naked once soft white skin

Now red with handprint scars

Punishment for brattish behaviour

Tears cascading from pain felt eyes

Playing my emotions?

Large hands easing the pain

Firm powerful strokes across each cheek

A gentle writhing to guide my hand

Urging to be felt in places pleasuring

My hand falls heavy again

The imprint left in white

Upon her once again reddening skin.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Word / Genre Challenge #3

Word: Flip Flops

Genre: Dark Comedy

They were always within easy reach of my mother’s hand. No matter where she was, even though she wouldn’t be wearing them, they were always reachable.

I’m talking about those battered, once favourite, rubber and plastic foot attire. The ones where the toe separator has popped out, and though you push it back through the hole in the sole, it still pops right back out.

Not that you’d want to touch the sole, as it still has the indented remnants of your mother’s feet permanently ingrained upon them.

For years they tortured your hearing, the *thwack-thwack* as they slapped against the underside of her feet as she walked, then they filled you with fear if you so much as said a wrong word or misbehaved.

For something so light weight an un aerodynamic, they could be hurled with amazing accuracy to bounce off the back of your head when you weren’t looking, and heaven forbid you were close enough to be caught.

No amount of padding could numb the pain of those slabs of rubber being brought down with force upon young spungey naked ass cheeks.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Handbag. Snippet from ‘Beaches, Boys and Forgotten Bras’.

Imogen finished getting ready and checked the contents of her handbag before heading out to the waiting taxi. Sunglasses, book, passport and tickets all there amongst the usual inhabitants of keys, makeup and other bits that had been thrown in over the duration of her having this particular bag. The secret to a good bag is that not only should it compliment any outfit, but also be deceptive in its capacity for holding not only all of a girls day to day needs, but also all the knick-knacks picked up along the way. Finally she was ready and locking the door to her apartment made her way to her waiting ride.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Dare to Dream

I saw part of a programme the other day about dreams, goals and aspirations. It was interesting to hear from a broad spectrum of people about those that achieved theirs, those that gave up and those still chasing.

I am Chris Brown and I had dreams. Some have come true, like being married to someone crazy enough to love me despite my flaws. To be a dad to two wonderful children and have a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs and food on the table.

Some I’ll never see come true. Being the best at what I do, because no matter how hard I try and as much effort that I expend, for some it’s just not good enough.

I may never retire financially secure, be recognised for that which I’ve given or pass a legacy to my children they’ll be proud of.

I’ve changed my dreams, set my sights on different ambitions to those I may have originally aspired, but the thing is I dared to dream. I’ve tried being a success, and though I may not of reached the dizzy heights of others, I dared to try.

When the time comes and I’m asked what did you do with your time, my answer will be “I tried to dare to dream.”

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Honest Question

A little boy asks,

‘Dad, how was I born?’

The dad replies,

‘Mom and I set up a date via e-mail and we met at a cyber-cafe. We went into a quiet room, where your mother agreed to a download from my hard drive. As soon as I was ready to upload, we discovered that neither one of us had used a firewall, and since it was too late to hit the delete button, nine months later a little Pop-Up appeared that said: ‘You got Male!’’

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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