Aunty Feeding Milk To Her Devar

By the end, she was drained, emotionally, physically and her head was pounding. Draven picked her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her to the bed ‘You can stay here love, don’t worry, as long as you need’ and she’d felt a small ray of hope, maybe it was going to be worth getting up tomorrow. ********* ******** ******** Alex didn’t really remember the months that followed that disastrous day. They seemed shrouded in cigarette smoke, numbness and nightmares. Jamie had cleared out practically everything by the time she’d felt strong enough to go round to their old flat, all he’d left were her clothes and a few personal effects, which had been dumped unceremoniously in corner of the bedroom – the photo albums documenting their life together and the gold chain and St Christopher she’d given him as their last anniversary present. She’d been heartbroken all over again. Draven had just been there, his usual cheeky demeanour replaced with sombre understanding. There was no humour in. A grand invention, the internet. What did we do without it? It was my son that set it up for me. He said that, as I was getting older and had no-one close by, it would be good if I had e-mail so I could keep in touch with him and Frances and they could send me pictures of the children and things. It sounded like a good idea so I went and had some lessons. I was quite tickled; an old codger like me going back to school. They taught us all about how to use our computers and word processing and spreadsheets and e-mail and things like that. They even taught us how to use the internet. I may not be quite as young as I was but I'm not senile, unlike some there who barely managed to switch the machine on by the end of the course.The internet was a real eye-opener. Imagine, all that information from all over the world right at your fingertips. Beats going to the library once a week and arguing with old Mr Flintov. Right old curmudgeon he is and he seems to live in the library. Well, from the.
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