July 04, 2020, 03:15:15 PM

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Messages - Maxfield

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Thanks xiagan - really appreciate it. It saves the peice of work going to waste. Really enjoyed this one, although it's been the hardest one to write as I really wanted to get all the sins in there. I had to cut loads out, so I've just about made a story out of it.

It's not my best work as I needed about 6,000 words to make it work well and it was a little rushed in the end - but that's the rules, which makes this a hard writing contest - but very enjoyable :)

Thanks again- and I look forward to reading everyones.

Good luck all

Spoiler for Hiden:
Written by James G Parkes - 1,488 words

The Zairn Maze

When the young warriors of Azarah come of age, they must travel to the mountain of Zairn. Those who survive the journey will enter the Zairn Maze, where they will face the trails of the Seven Deadly Sins. Those who make it out become an Azarah warrior. Only few return…sometimes no one does.   
Kelon who had been displaying all the attributes of a leader at a very young age was the first to reach the Zairn Maze. A fine specimen of a man, his family bloodline was genetically designed to become warriors and being the first son of Guzte - General to the Azarah armies, it was his destiny to follow in his father’s footsteps.

Jelfa wasn’t’ far behind. He too was from a rich bloodline of great warriors and had trained with Kelon since they were children. He was bigger and stronger than his best friend, but had spent his life living in his shadows.

It had a taken a while for the other young warriors to reach the top: the twin sister Karnia and Celna were next closely followed by the Melkin, Uelan and Plaxton. Agusto arrived much latter.

“Are you the last Agusto?” asked Kelon, “where are Mayno and Yate?”

“They didn’t make it,” replied Agusto, panting heavily from the climb.

“I’m surprised you made it this far!” commented Jelfa, who always took pleasure from belittling him.

“Yet a fat lump as yourself made it Jelfa!” mocked Uelan who didn’t take kindly to his insults. She was from a similar non-warrior bloodline as Augusto.

“That’s enough!” said Kelon, “we have already lost twenty-two warriors on this journey. We must work together if we are to survive the trails of the Seven Deadly Sins. Karnia, Celna take point; Agusto, Uelan you take the rear. Arm yourselves and be prepared for anything,” instructed Kelon with authority to his tone.

Following his orders, Karnia and Celna slowly entered the Zairn Maze, with the others taking up a defensive formation behind. This is what they had been trained for since they were children, although no one was really ready to face the Seven Deadly Sins, as the Zairn Maze changed every year.

“Stay close,” Kelon instructed, as they entered the first room.

“Which way?” asked Agusto openly.

“There is only one way!” scorned Jelfa.

“No there’s not,” snapped Agusto.

“Hold on. How many doors can you see Agusto?” Kelon asked.

“Two. Can’t you see them?”

“I can only see one. Who else can see two doors?”

Uelan was the only warrior to raise her arm.

“There’s a surprise!” declared Jelfa arrogantly.

“No, it’s the maze. It’s already fooling us,” stated Kelon. “Keep moving.”

As they advanced Agusto and Uelan could see their second door turn into a spiked wall.

In the next room there was no debating the surroundings. The room was occupied by the undead, representing the sin of wrath – fallen past warriors seeking revenge.

“Diamond formation!” cried Kelon assertively.

Even though the undead attacked in numbers, the young warriors were able to deal with them comfortably. Head after head continued to hit the floor, but the undead kept on coming.

“We can’t keep this up forever!” urged Melkin.

“We need to move - this way!” bellowed Jelfa breaking free from the others.

“Stick together!” commanded Kelon, but it was too late, the undead quickly filled gap left by Jelfa, giving them the opportunity to separate the young Azarah warriors to different sides of the room from which new doors had suddenly appeared. Uelan and Augusto where shoved through one door and Jelfa, Melkin and Plaxton were made to go through another. The doors they tuned back to solid wall, leaving a single door for Kelon, Karnia and Celna.

“The maze has accomplished its goal,” remarked Kelon. “We move forward.”
“What now?” Plaxton asked.

“We keep going,” answered Jelfa sharply.

“And the others?” queried Melkin.

“What about them? You’re with me!” replied Jelfa proudly.

“Let’s just get out of here,” expressed Plaxton stepping forward into a new room full of bush berries.

“Great!” announced Melkin, “I’m hungry!”

“Always thinking with your stomach,” stated Plaxton. “We don’t have time to eat.”

“Only a few, I’ll catch up.”

“There’s only a few anyway – let him eat.” said Jelfa.

“No there’s not – there’s thousands,” whispered Melkin happily to himself as Plaxton and Jelfa moved into the next room.
“Agusto look, gold!” pointed Uelan excitedly, before rushing towards the glimmering coins scattered across the room. “Quick, help me pick them up.”

“Ok, but only take enough to fill your pockets.”
Half listening Uelan began to stuff her pockets with coins, but was soon drawn to greater riches, glistening from a room stacked up with jewels and gold.

“We’re going to be filthy rich Agusto!” smiled Uelan.

“You have enough already Uelan.”

“My family’s poor Agusto. This will change all our lives forever. I don’t need to become a warrior now. Leave me then – it’s all mine!” snarled Uelan, clutching at her sword. 

Reluctantly Agusto left the woman who had stood by his side on many occasions, as he knew that once the sin of greed had taken hold, they were already lost to the maze. The desperate screams that followed soon after confirmed his judgements, as the room which Uelan had entered disappeared into a pit of jagged rocks.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Melkin?” asked Plaxton.

“No, he can catch up,” replied Jelfa.

“I need to rest though.”

“We don’t have time to relax,” argued Jelfa. “Now get up.”

“I can’t be bothered. You go on. I’ll wait for Melkin,”

“Quiet now - stop talking,” ordered Jelfa, “can you hear that?”

“I can’t hear anything. I’m too tired to listen.”

“It’s the walls, they’re moving inwards. We need to move – quickly.”

“You’re imagining things. I’m resting, leave me be Jelfa.”

“You’re going to get crushed you fool. Now get up.”
Sluggishly Plaxton waved Jelfa on, “leave me, too lazy to talk anymore.”

The walls continued to close in around them giving Jelfa no alternative but to escape, leaving Plaxton to his own fate.
Cautiously Agusto entered the room with the young Azarah warrior sitting on the floor. He recognised the man as Melkin, but the maze couldn’t be trusted. Melkin had already heard his footsteps approaching and slowly turned to face Augusto. Through a mouthful of stuffed flesh Melkin managed to say, “Berries - lots of berries.” It wasn’t until Melkin had completely turned round when Augusto saw what he was really eating – himself! Chucks of flesh ripped out by his own teeth. Agusto quickly moved on from the sin of gluttony.     
They had been walking for over an hour when Kelon ordered Karnia and Celna to stop.

“Why are we stopping?” Karnia asked.

“It's time for you two to become female warriors now.”
The sisters didn't like Kelon's tone, it was out of character, and his intentions were clear. “Take your clothes off – now,” demanded Kelon certifying his intent.

“Hold your tongue, the sin of lust has taken you Kelon,” stated Celna.

“This isn’t lust – this is my right. Now do as you’re told.”

“Still giving out orders?” blasted Jelfa who had been following them for some time.

“Stay out of this. These are my women,” snapped Kelon aggressively.

“I don't take orders from you. I’ve always been the better warrior, not you.”

Speaking quietly, Celna pulled her sister away, “Come Karnia; let pride and lust fight it out.”

Driving forward Jelfa confidently lunged at Kelon, who was far too quick and had used his training to knock him to the ground.

“The women are mine,” continued Kelon as he looked to end his friend’s life, but was struck from behind before he could carry out his actions.

“And Jelfa is mine.”

“You’re still alive Agusto!” mocked Jelfa.

“Even with all your wealth and warrior bloodline, I'm still better than you. That's how.”

“You’ve always been jealous of me Agusto,” laughed Jelfa, “Why don't you try and take me then?”
Accepting his invitation, Augusto swiftly plunged his sword into him, but wasn't quick enough to pull free as Jelfa grabbed him by the throat.

“You ready to die Augusto?” chuckled Jelfa who was unaware of Kelon standing behind them both and was still squeezing down on Agusto's throat when his best friend speared his sword through his back and into Agusto.
Kelon beamed, “the women are mine.” But his celebration would be short lived as he hadn't noticed that the exits were closed and he was surrounded by the undead.
“Keep going Karnia, “there's the exit,” Celna called to her sister.

“We’ve made it,” replied Karnia, whilst placing her hand on her sword.

“We’re now Azarah warriors,” confirmed Celna, who was already drawing her sword.

“But who's the better warrior?” queried Karnia as she turned to her sister.

“We already know – I am.”
Unleashing her sword Karnia yelled out, “No your not – I am…”

Dam - I spent a week writing mine and my computer broke at home at the weekend after having to cut 3000 words, was just about to send it this morning as you guys don't normally close it until lunch time with the time zones etc - gutted :(

Thanks Elfy, I think you’ve pretty much brought up the areas that I need to work on. I should try and read much more than I do, as my vocabulary isn’t the best at times, so I suppose like most would be writers I do use the thesaurus to try and make my words sound…well I guess more intelligent, which I probably don’t need to do so much, but reading other writers who use big words you kind of feel that’s what you should being doing as well and maybe I over think things, when I should stick to what I'm best at.

Sometimes using thesaurus isn’t always the best option, because you need to make sure that you really know the correct term of that word before putting it in willy nilly and hoping it makes sense – so I’m working on getting better at that.

And yes there was a spelling mistake (in think) as pointed out; it should have been thick, which I do also make sometimes. I must ask though I’m not sure if it’s me or does anyone else have the same problem, because once you have written something and you know the story off by heart, it doesn’t matter how many times and how slowly you go over it, word by word making sure there are no spelling mistakes, I always seem to miss a few obvious ones, it’s like my brain just can't see them.

On a whole Elfy you have summed up my weak points. I believe I’m at a stage where an average reader can read my work and I can get away with it, but I’m still about 20% of being the finished article as experienced readers and good writers will pick up on the odd mistakes, which I need to get better at if I want to get signed by an agent.

Although I’m not looking to be the best writer in the world, I’m just looking to be a good writer who writes great books.

This critiqued has helped me a lot and hopefully others. I am getting better at writing, but like anything the more you practice the better you become, the only problem which most writers have is getting time to write and being a 35 year old man who has two young children and works five to six days a week, it’s very hard to get any spare time, as the spare time that I do get, I want to spend with my kids and partner, and it’s very hard to be at your best when you write late at night - when all you want to do is relax!!

It’s not easy being a writer – but god I love writing.?


And I may not be the best to critique you on your writing skills; I can certainly tell you what I thought about your story.

I’m not just saying this, because you critiqued my work, but your story was the one I enjoyed the most. The reason for this, which is a reason why I stick with a book, is because it grabbed my attention straight away and you had the ability in your writing to make me feel like I was actually there. I could picture the room and was very intrigued by how Roger Simmons got there.

I also love trying to work out which direction the writer is going to take the story. I was kept in suspense all the way through.

Even though I think it would be hard to make a full story out of this work, I do think it would have been a great episode for Dr Who. I could imagine The Doctor arriving and trying to solve this case.

And I don’t know if you watch Dr Who, but it’s been my favourite program on TV for the past few years and they have some great writers. So maybe you should try and pitch that one to them :)?

Good work Elfy and thanks for your critique. 

All the best Maxfield
a.k.a  - James G Parkes

Ok - here we go…

I’ve never been critiqued by anyone I didn’t know before and especially by other writers, so I’m a little nervous of the response, so go easy please :)?

Honestly though, I would appreciate any help and advice, because as in terms of wanting to become a writer - I’m still an amateur.

I have only written one book to date, which is available as a free eBook and is doing ok in free sales figures, but I don’t really get any reviews, so it’s hard to know if my book or more importantly my writing is any good!

I do feel I’m very creative and have no problem making up stories, but I do struggle with grammar from time to time and sometimes the correct usage of punctuation marks.

In terms of helping me to become a writer, I never learnt anything in English at school or went on to further education in that field, so everything I’ve learnt is self-taught.

So basically…and sorry to waffle on, it would be great to get advise on my writing skills and if I’m making simple mistakes etc.

As I writer, my style is more aimed at the teenage and younger adult audience, so I like to make my stories easy reading, with light humour.

I feel I have lots more to learn and to improve on, so it would be great to get advice from more experienced writers, so I can gauge what level I am at. 

kind regards

James G Parkes?       


“My name is Xiagan and these are my companions, Arry and Autumn2May.”

Arry was a hard faced looking Dwarf; behind stood a solemn looking hobbit called Autumn2May.
Sweet! I'm in a story! Even if I am a Dwarf!

“We do work at the Fantasy-Faction site - that part is true,” continued Xiagan. “What you didn’t know is that websites can be used as portals and unfortunately for you, our emperor the Overlord has had his sights set on ruling your planet for some time. He’s been using the creative minds of your fantasy writers to feed this world. Whatever they write comes true. That’s why the monthly competitions were set up to find the best writers. Each monthly winner is then enslaved and hooked up into the network, being forced to continuously create fantasy characters for Overlords army of darkness, like the dragons you encountered. Previous winners are already here:  ACSmyth, G R Matthews, and TOMunro. Soon Overlord will have a large enough army to attack your world.”
*shhhhh* You're not making a very good minion by publicizing our secret agenda

“We will disguise you as one of his human slaves. As generals to Overlord’s armies, no one will suspect us,” replied Arry, whilst surely stroking his beard.
Ahhh ... fluff. You noticed the beard! That's what I get for picking a username like Arry ;)

sorry arry for making you a dwarf and a male dwarf to boot  - but as for dwarfs go, arry the dwarf was a fine looking dwarf and was known for having the softness beard in the fantasy faction relm - many dwarfs and members of zz top were very envious of such a fine grown beard.  :) 

We have to work fluff as a swear word into a story somewhere. I used it in Realmspace, but that hasn't been published.

well done ladygreen, nice story as usual  :)

And thanks for the people who voted for my work as well, as it means a lot to me.


I've gone for the people who stuck to this months task, as I believe a few didn't really stick to the portal theme.

good luck all  :)

Mines up!

As usual not easy to stick to 1500 words. Being happy with my work I realized I had written 348 words too many. Not easy shortening a story by that many words. Hopefully I haven't underwritten it now.

If there's a prize for originality this month I've got to go close - this one is dedicated to this site and some of their members - hope you all enjoy :) 

Written by James Parkes
Words 1488

The Fantasy-Faction Network 

“Turn that computer off. It’s getting late!”

“Just five more minuets mum. This Fantasy-Faction site is awesome!” answered Bran.

“As awesome as it may be, you still have school tomorrow. Now turn it off,” ordered Bran’s mum.

“O-K mum,” sighed Bran. “I’m logging off now.”

“Thank you. Night-night my darling,” whispered Bran’s mum, before closing his bedroom door.

“Yeah night mum,” replied Bran, ignoring the blown kiss.

Adhering to his mum’s wishes, Bran reluctantly hovered over the logout option, when he noticed a new thread had appeared. The subject was Fantasy-Portal, which had been set up by Xiagan, one of the sites administrators. Intrigued, Bran couldn’t resist viewing the page, but there was nothing to view. The page was blank; all except for one word. The word Portal!

Assuming it was an error; Bran proceeded to logout - when the word Portal began flashing vigorously - faster and faster, twisting and turning until Bran started feeling nauseous and uneasy. It was at this point when he found himself being drawn towards the screen, closer and closer and…


Bran woke with a thumping head and feeling woozy. His first instincts were to call out for his parents, but there was no point - he wasn’t in his bedroom anymore. The prickly dried grass beneath; the smell of smoulder in the air and the screams of suffering carried across the winds told him otherwise.

But where was he?   

Slowly standing, Bran took his time to take in his new surroundings. He was in a large desiccated field. It was hot – very hot. In the distance some woods were set ablaze, encased in think smoke. The path behind was just as unenticing. A dark creepy forest that looked hostile to the bravest of brave.

Bran may only be fifteen, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t dreaming and he certainly wasn’t in England anymore. But it was the alarming shrieks from the smoke filled skies that told him that he may not even be in the same universe. At first glance it may have been mistaken for a large bird, hovering above the burning woods, but the flames that emanated from its mouth exposed the species as dragon orientation.

But that wasn’t the only dragon in the sky. Bran hadn’t noticed another ascending from over his shoulder. And if it wasn’t for the cries that came out from the dark forest behind, he may never have.

Dragon - RUN!”

The air was already beginning to warm around him as the dragon drew close with his fire filled mouth wide open, preparing to unleash a ball of flame towards its designated target. Bran had one option – the forest. But it only took a few steps to realize that he couldn’t out run the dragon. Shutting his eyes he gave into the inevitable.

Although Bran didn’t turn to ash, instead the dragon screeched out in pain, withdrawing into the skies, just before reaching the edge of the forest.

Unsure of what had happened, Bran continued into the darkness of the forest. If fate had treated him so kindly with the dragon, maybe the forest was his sanctuary.   

It wasn’t long before such thoughts were abolished from his mind.

A few minutes of rash tumbling and thrashing through the dense forest, Bran was completely lost. Unfortunately that wasn’t his only concern, as there were far worse things than just being lost; the kind of things that scare off dragons – Bran wasn’t alone and he hadn’t been since he entered the forest. Something old, dark and evil lurked amongst the creepy shadows of the forest and unintentionally Bran had procured its fullest attention.

Once more Bran was caught unaware of the dangers of this perilous and unforgiving world, which was again closing in on him.   

“This way – hurry,” commanded the same voice who had guided him from the dragon.

Wary of this mysterious voice, Bran had no choice. Whoever they were, they wanted to help. For now anyway!

Moving swiftly, Bran headed in the direction from where the voice came. He may have been unable to see his predator, but the sound of the trees being split like twigs behind told him all that he needed to know. It was big, it was very close.

“Through here – quick,” ordered the voice.

Bran followed the voice into the trees, when the ground suddenly gave way and he found himself descending downwards, until he eventually landed into an open cave. 

 “You’re safe now,” calmly assured the voice.

“Who said that?” demanded Bran anxiously.

“A friend,” acknowledged the voice stepping out into view.

“You’re…you’re an elf!” stuttered Bran, rubbing his eyes to confirm the identification.

“My name is Xiagan and these are my companions, Arry and Autumn2May.”

Arry was a hard faced looking Dwarf; behind stood a solemn looking hobbit called Autumn2May.

 “But you’re real people! You work at the Fantasy-Faction website. I must be dreaming,” declared Bran.

“You tell him Xiagan,” said Autumn2May. “It’s your plan.”

“I understand that this may all seem surreal, but that’s why I picked you. You’re one of our avid followers. You know fantasy. So hopefully you’re open to the fact that you have crossed through a portal into a different world.”

“O-K. Go on!” replied Bran cautiously.

“We do work at the Fantasy-Faction site - that part is true,” continued Xiagan. “What you didn’t know is that websites can be used as portals and unfortunately for you, our emperor the Overlord has had his sights set on ruling your planet for some time. He’s been using the creative minds of your fantasy writers to feed this world. Whatever they write comes true. That’s why the monthly competitions were set up to find the best writers. Each monthly winner is then enslaved and hooked up into the network, being forced to continuously create fantasy characters for Overlords army of darkness, like the dragons you encountered. Previous winners are already here:  ACSmyth, G R Matthews, and TOMunro. Soon Overlord will have a large enough army to attack your world.”

“But what can I do?” I’m just a boy. I’m no hero!”

“That’s why you’re perfect. Overlord would never expect a teenage boy trying to stop him. If we can just get you into Overlord’s castle and into the network room, there’s a master chair that will connect you to the other writers. You will then be able to sever the link. Everything that was created will be destroyed.

“How would I get into the castle undetected?”

“We will disguise you as one of his human slaves. As generals to Overlord’s armies, no one will suspect us,” replied Arry, whilst surely stroking his beard.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“I’m afraid not,” answered Xiagan reluctantly.     

“Then let’s do it. I’ve always wanted to be a hero!”

Unaware of their treachery, the three generals walked through the heavily guarded castle gates with their new companion. The castle was overrun with mindless slaves making it easy to go unnoticed and safely reach the network room.

“This is it,” announced Xiagan. “It’s up to you now Bran. Connect yourself to the master chair and separate the link.”

Cagily Bran entered the room. There were six writers linked up to the network. They were alive, but their eyes were pure white and they seemed hypnotised.

Bran didn’t hesitate; quickly he made his way towards the master chair and began putting his fingers into the side holes, as Xiagan instructed. Instantly Bran was connected to network. Remembering what Xiagan had told him – he focused on the writers to merge with their minds. He should then be able to separate their link - but it wasn’t working! Instead Bran was in severe pain. His eyes felt like they were burning within their sockets and there was an unbearable sensation inside his head. Immediately he tried removing his fingers to unlink himself from the network, but they were now entwined into the chair. He was stuck. The more he tried breaking free, the more confined he became. Anxiously Bran’s eyes danced across the room looking for Xiagan. Time was running out. Bran could feel the network taking over; he didn’t have long before he joined the writers. 

“Are you ok?” asked a vicious voice.

“Who said that?” snapped Bran.

“In this realm I’m known as the Overlord and thanks to you, so will the people of your world.”

“Xiagan…help…me.” Bran desperately cried out, now struggling to speak.

“You want Xiagan to help?” laughed Overlord. 

From behind the mighty Overlord stepped forward the slender elf known as Xiagan.

“Sorry Bran, but you forgot the number one rule in fantasy. Don’t trust anyone!” Xiagan chuckled.

“But why?” faintly asked Bran.

“We needed you Bran; you were the missing link to connect the network to your world. As we speak this story is being transmitted and whoever is reading this right now are slowly becoming a slave to the Fantasy-Faction website forever...

looknig forward to that anthology xiagan - got a great idea already :)

I agree with simonster - it would be nice to pick two stories, especially as my dream is to be a writer, it would be nice to see if someone liked my work, because if someone's story is very good, they derserve to win and will get most votes - although seeing as I didn't get any votes again, my dream is an on going one  lol  :(

But like simonster stated, the perosn I almost picked didn't get any votes at all and I really enjoyed his story. When your trying to be a wirter and take time out to enter the monthly comps, its nice to know that people like your work.

So two picks instead of one would be nice please...

Or maybe - if do-able we could give each story a mark out of five and the highest scoring story wins. At least that way every writer knows how everyone rated their story or not. That certainly would help me to become a better writer, especially as I use this to practice different forms of writer etc.


That's mine up - I've attempted to target this at the female audience, but this is the first time I have done this, so any feed back from the good lady's on this forum will be appreciated. If it didn't make you laugh then I have failed :(

Although I'm personally happy with it and this is how I would start the book off - And I am actually thinking of putting this a side for a future project on a book called Berlynn Brown,  as I believe I can write a good comedy based on this character. If that's ok!!


Written by James Parkes   

Berlynn Brown

“YES BABY – YESSSSS!” Carl shrieked out over jubilantly; orgasming into an exhausted sweat heap into my pillow. Slightly panting and filled with confidence, my sexy neighbour then asked me, “Was that good for you baby?” 
You idiot!

Why men must asked such a pathetic question after sex is beyond me? The only problem that I have now is - that I’m going to have to tell him the truth.

So what’s the problem with that you may ask? If they succeeded in finding that pleasurable place that has alluded most men over the centuries, then there’s no problem in feeding their tiny ego’s by telling them that they were fucking amazing, so they can exult in the fact that were able to find the clitoris. Or in Carl’s case – lie!

Because let’s face it who would tell that person to their face that they had a better chance of making a lesbian feminist cum. Step forward Berlynn Brown (me) – the girl who can’t lie.

Why can’t I lie? I don’t know. I just can’t. And before you even try telling me it’s good to be honest – you try it. Because believe me, no one likes to be told the truth.

This curse began the day I could recognise the difference between a lie and the truth. At first people laughed at the little cute girl who would own up to everything – “I did it. It was me.” But as I grew up I realised that not being able to lie was a big disadvantage in this world.

It was ok being told off for something that I did, as my parents were proud that I would own up to it and therefore wouldn’t be so hard on me. But it was my brother who was punished the most, especially when my parents would always ask me if he was telling the truth. I wanted to lie – to protect my brother, but I just couldn’t. My brother thought I was little snitch and over the years he resented me. We don’t talk anymore. 

But it wasn’t just the fact that I couldn’t lie. It was how I went about it. If someone asked me a question; I couldn’t just give them a quick response, I had to tell them how I really felt. The kind of thing that you really should keep to yourself, but no, without thinking my mouth would open and out it came: inappropriate, offensive, sarcastic, detailed, throat-cutting, go fuck-yourself – the whole truth!   

For example, if someone asked me if I thought it would rain today, instead of saying I’m not sure; I would say, “Oh I am sorry, did you miss my weather report on TV – of course you did! That’s because I’m not a fucking weather girl – dickhead. So why would I know if it’s going to rain or not? If it looks like it’s going to rain, then there’s a good chance that it bloody will.”

After a while people stop asking you questions, especially my mum. She used to say, “I’ll ask my Berlynn, she always tells me the truth.” But after a while even your own mum can only take so much honesty from the daughter who tells you that you look fat, your hair is awful and I wouldn’t go out looking like a cheap hooker. 

Of course I have tried explaining my predicament to my parents, but ironically they just thought I was lying!

I’ve contemplated going to the Doctors as I got older, but what would be the point? They would either think I was totally insane or would refer me for some scientific experiment if they did believe me. Either way, each outcome sucked.

Personally I blame my parents for this abnormal brain development. In their “rock n roll years” they have openly admitted to indulging in huge amounts of drug taking. Then like any good parent, advise their child not to do the same. Too late parents - I think you have already done the damage.

I also have to live with the embarrassment of them ridiculously naming me Berlynn. And the fact that I can’t fucking lie; I have to explain the origins when people ask (and they always bloody ask) that I was conceived in the capital of Germany and my parents loved the name Lynn – hey presto! 

But if you think life at home was hard. I might as well of had leprosy at school as no one wanted to know me, and the friends that I did manage to make - didn’t last long.

Take for instance my two best friends Hannah and Ava. We were inseparably; but that soon ended the day Hannah made me promise to keep a secret. It wasn’t until Ava asked me what the problem was with Hannah, our friendship was ruined. I couldn’t help myself, even though I knew it would crush Hannah, I had to tell Ava the truth, which was that Hannah spent every day sexually fantasying about the girl she was madly in love with.

No one ever told me any secrets again.

But it hasn’t got any easier since leaving school; my first job was a hospital nurse. People would always ask you, “Do you think I’m going to be ok or am I going to die?” I really was the wrong the person to ask.

My next job was at a retail shop – big mistake, because telling a customer that if she thought she looked fat before entering the shop, then why would squeezing that enormous balloon sized arse into a tight fitting dress would make her look any slimmer. 

I’ve had many jobs!

And if you think keeping jobs was hard work – ask me how many boyfriends I’ve had. Well actually I’ve had loads, but ask me how long I’ve kept a boyfriend for!

Nine days, four hours and two minutes to be precise.

Although I’m not sure that record should count as Ben was an alcoholic, so I couldn’t be certain if he actually knew what I was saying half the time.

But my record has to be Jacob – one hour and eight minutes. He was religious and I’m an atheist – that doesn’t work on any level.

After numerous boyfriends and many, many jobs; I do believe I’ve finally found my place – the city library.

You don’t stand out in a crowd and at work I can actually only tell the truth: “No we don’t have that book. Yes we do have that book; or it’s over there - and I haven’t got a fucking clue where it is!”

It’s the perfect job. It’s just me and two other people. My one and only friend Helen, who just happens to an impulsive lair – it’s the perfect balance. And crazy Jake the caretaker, who has this annoying knack of answering questions you haven’t even asked yet – out loud and very crudely. Let’s just say you don’t want him around when a school bus of children has turned up for a studying session and you’re debating in asking Helen to cover for you, whilst you go for a crap!

So at the age of 34, my life may be a little fucked up - but I think I’m just about passing for a sane person. Now if I can only stop sleeping with idiots.

“NO BABY, NOOOOO!” I yelled back, to the disappointment still between my legs. “It wasn’t good Carl. Even though statistically speaking by-rights someone as hot as you should be an absolute God in bed – but to be honest I only knew that your excuse for a penis was inside me when you started moaning like some deranged walrus. And the reason why I turned my head to one side wasn’t an invite for you to begin slobbering on my earlobe – because Carl honey, no women, not even the ugly ones like that. In fact, the reason why I did turn was to avoid kissing you, because the last time I smelt anything that resembled your breath was when my parent’s dog ate some shit. Thankfully you cum quicker than premature ejaculation, because if I had to have faked enjoying that - I would have received a fucking Oscar!”   

New boyfriend record: 1 minute and five seconds.


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