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Post by irisheyesrsmiling on Jul 30, 2009 16:07:24 GMT -5
You'll have to forgive the title, I'm horrible at creative names! LOL This is just my first pass at this story. I haven't done any editing or anything, just kind of laying the groundwork...but I thought it might be helpful to get feedback to improve it. This IS a Keith story, but this first part is establishing the plot so he only makes a brief appearance to start. DON'T WORRY!
THE STORY BEGINS....
I’ve never really liked the outdoors, but this forest was so beautiful. Immediately I’m drawn to a clearing where brilliant light is streaming through the treetops illuminating a large stone structure. I slowly walk towards it and realize when I’m halfway there, it’s a well. I forget how I ended up here, but at the moment I don’t really care. I go all the way to the side of the well and peer down into the darkness, following the sound of running water. It’s so soothing to the ears. In fact, I almost feel a bit tired now. I continue staring in the well, memorized by the sound. “Well hello, there, pretty lass…” says a deep male voice from behind me. I’m in unfamiliar territory here, so I carefully turn around. I look up to see a tall man, atop a sleek black horse. He’s wearing a riding outfit that looks like it’s come straight out of Shakespearean England, and he has one golden earring in his left ear, that catches the sunlight beneath a head of shiny black hair. His beauty is almost as powerful as that of the well. And for a moment I am at a loss for words. He smiles, wickedly, though I am not afraid of this man, and extends a hand to me. I move closer to him, feeling compelled to take it. “Won’t you come away with me?” he says, reaching down closer to me, his eyes sparkling. I try to reach out to him, but my arm doesn’t quite make it. This frustrates me. “Miss...Miss?” he says again. I heard him the first time! I think to myself. Why can’t I reach him? “Miss…Hello? Miss…?” he begins to slowly fade away. Where is he going? Why is he leaving me? I moan in desperation, as he disappears almost into nothingness. **********************************************************************
“Miss, uh, we’ve landed. You’re here.” The voice has changed, it sounds like the voice of a woman now. Everything is black for a second. I hesitantly open my eyes, and my surroundings begin to come into focus. I realize with a start that I’m still on the plane. Instantly, I snap out of my dreamy stupor. I look up to see a blonde middle aged woman standing over me. And as I look around, I realize that the only person left on the plane is me. Instinctively, I bring my sleeve up to my mouth and wipe away any traces of drool. “Oh my God,” I start with embarrassment. “I am so sorry! Have I kept you?” She gives a little laugh, and reaches into the overhead compartment, pulling my black duffle bag down for me. “’Is nothing to worry about, love,” she says warmly. “We’ve only been on the ground for a few minutes, and you seemed to be having a nice dream.” I blush slightly. She was right. I was having a nice dream, and even though I was more than excited to finally be here, I was a touch disappointed that the dream had ended so abruptly. The mysterious man on the horse was awfully attractive. She hands me my duffle bag, and I stand up and slide into the aisle. “Thank you,” I say to her. “Sorry, again!” And I hurry to get off the plane and into the terminal. I push up the sleeve of my cable knit sweater and check the time. 8:30 am. Dublin time. I made sure to change my watch before I got here so I’d know exactly what time it was without confusing myself. I head toward the direction of the escalator, when I am overcome with another wave of sleepiness. I wasn’t sure exactly how long I had been asleep on the flight, but the anticipation had kept me up for the majority of the flight, so it couldn’t have been more than an hour or so. Before I left my father had said to me “When you get in, resist any urge to take a nap. Your body needs to readjust, so go to bed only when it’s dark.” I knew I was young and resilient, but even I wouldn’t be able to stay awake for another 13 hours without consuming an entire pot of coffee. My stomach gurgles at the thought of this. I haven’t eaten in a while. Still thinking about coffee, I step onto the escalator, and expect to see Brendan waiting for me as I descend. I see lots of people standing around, but none of them look familiar. My stomach starts to knot up as I look around. I don’t seen Brendan anywhere. My flight got in pretty much on time, so I wonder where he could be. Don’t panic. I tell myself. He’s probably just running late. Just because you’re a stickler for punctuality doesn’t mean everyone else is. Brendan is my cousin who’s been living in Dublin for the past three years to go to medical school. We haven’t spent a lot of time together recently, and when he offered me a place to stay over the Christmas holiday, I couldn’t turn it down. He had better show up soon, because I have absolutely no idea how to get to his apartment. I follow the signs to the baggage claim, figuring that while I’m waiting around for him, I can at least get my stuff. When I see the designated belt for my flight already spitting out bags at an alarming rate, I quicken my pace, hoping to time it correctly and retrieve my suitcases (yes, yes, I brought two…) in one single motion. I pull my Blackberry out of my purse, in hopes that Brendan’s left me a voicemail. But as the screen lights up, nothing. I’m starting to get a bit more nervous now. The last thing I need is to be stranded in a strange country all on my own. And stuck in an airport, no less! I can’t help becoming a little paranoid. I’m so busy turning over possibilities of where he can be over in my mind I almost don’t notice my suitcase falling down onto the conveyer belt. As it approaches me, I grab the handle and lug it off onto the floor. I swing my duffle bag from my shoulder to rest on top of this suitcase. And I hoist my purse further up on my arm. The suitcase felt heavier now than when I original checked it back in Boston. This made me a little concerned considering my second suitcase was primarily filled with shoes (I know, I know…gimmie a break). I cross my arms and tap one of my boots impatiently. Five minutes into my trip and I was already annoyed. This did not make the outlook seem so good. There seem to be more people crowding around the baggage claim and I’m beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. “C’mon…c’mon!” I curse under my breath at the conveyer belt. Why is it that when you bring multiple bags on a trip they ALWAYS seem to end up on opposite ends of the order in which they are dumped out? Fortunately, I am relieved to see a second hot pink suitcase being released from the chute. I try to reposition the bags that are already next to me so I can leave them propped upright when I have to heft this one off the line. For some reason it looks as though the conveyer belt is speeding up. I can’t tell whether or not it’s my imagination, but at least I can clearly see my last bag heading toward me. Just as I step up closer, a burly man with a gray beard and bowling shirt pushes through the crow up beside me on the right, nearly knocking me over as his fleshy arm hits me in the side. I roll my eyes, but I don’t say anything. Other people are pushing closer as well, and that same feeling of claustrophobia is intensifying. As I’m trying to ignore it, I calculate how I’m going to pick this bag up, considering it’s nearly the size of me. And even in 3 inch heeled boots, I’m still only about 5’5”, I don’t really have a lot of leverage. The bag slides my way, and right as I am about to reach down and grab it, the big man with the grey beard stretches his fat arm out in front of me, straining to retrieve his own suitcase, which is positioned directly behind mine. Honestly, he can’t wait three more seconds? I think to myself. And in a moment of defiance, most likely brought on by my bad mood, I shove his arm out of the way, grab the handle of my suitcase and just hoist with all my might. The sudden awkward heaviness in my hands sends me completely off balance, and I go toppling over backwards. I yelp in surprise as I hear an “Oof” when I come into contact with another body, presumably a man. Nanoseconds later, I am stuck on top of some stranger, on the floor, with a suitcase on top of me. I can’t move. People are staring down at me, some with concern, others with shock, and even a few with distaste. I am completely and utterly mortified. I hear more groaning behind me. It’s definitely a man. I work to push the suitcase off of me and scramble to get to my feet. Forgetting all about my other bags, I straighten myself up and turn around to apologize to the poor guy I just knocked over. “Oh my goodness, are you alright? I am so sorry…” I trail off as I get a good look at the person who had the unfortunate pleasure of being my personal cushion. He’s working on getting himself off the floor as well. His shaggy blonde hair falls into his face as he leans over, brushing off his dark jeans as he stands up. He’s wearing a band t-shirt underneath a white oxford, which he has rolled up to his elbows. Oh no. Not only did I body slam a complete stranger….I took out one that was absolutely gorgeous. I feel myself blush, even more embarrassed. He looks up and meets my eyes, which are completely glazed over at this point, as I stand there soaking in every inch of him. “No ‘arm done,” he says in a rich Irish accent, but he winces as he bends over to stand my fallen suitcase upright. At this moment, the English language completely escapes me. I’m just standing there like an idiot with my mouth nearly hanging open. Say something, say something! My brain is screaming at me. “…Guess I don’t know my own strength…” the words just slip out. Was that supposed to be a joke? Ugh, way to make a good first impression. Well, more like second impression, really. The first impression was quite possibly my elbow into his chest. He gives a little laugh, his green eyes dancing. “I’d say it’s more like ye dunno the strength of yer own bag. What’ve ye got in there? Bricks?” he says playfully as he pats my suitcase, which is now properly standing. I search his eyes for any traces of mockery, expecting that he might just be messing with me, a silly tourist. But his eyes are warm, his face twisted into a genuine look of amusement. It’s hard to speak again. “Might as well be. I didn’t realize luggage could be used as a weapon,” I say morosely, and he chuckles again. But then something happens that I don’t expect. Senseless apologies start pouring out of me at breakneck speed. “Look, I am really, really sorry. Are you sure you’re alright? It was so stupid of me to try and lift that thing…I hope I didn’t hurt you…I cannot believe this…I’ve only been in Ireland for ten minutes and everything’s going wrong….” And as I can continue to ramble, I am getting more and more frustrated with myself. The tears are welling up underneath my eyelids. Ugh. No. No, I will not cry stupidly in front of someone I don’t even know. His facial expression changes from one of amusement to concern. “Hey there, like I said, No ‘arm done. I’m alright. But are you?” He doesn’t take his eyes off of me. I’m having one of those moments where you’re sort of okay until somebody asks you if you’re okay. I bring my hand up to my face, and pretend there’s something in my eye, wiping at a tear that nearly escapes. I need to get out of here. Get away from this guy. “I’m fine,” I say flatly, and study the pattern of the carpet. Suddenly I let out a laugh. It’s almost a hysterical cry. “This is too pathetic. You’re going to have bruises tomorrow, courtesy of me, and you have to ask if I’m the one that’s okay?” I snap, really talking more to myself than I am to him. He almost looks hurt. “I have to go,” I mumble. Turning around I grab my duffle bag, pull up the handle to my other suitcase, readjust my purse, and walk off in the opposite direction that I had come from.
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Post by irisheyesrsmiling on Aug 31, 2009 14:35:31 GMT -5
Okay, first off, a thousand and one apologies for taking so long to update this! I have been extremely busy and I still am! Unfortunately, this project has to fall to the back of the line in priority because now I'm back in school and all that nonsense, so my schoolwork and other such things come first. I will do my best to update regularly (albeit slowly), however. THANKS to all who have been reading. Hope you enjoy this next part.
Brendan is still nowhere to be seen. It is now 9:30am. I dial him once more, and it goes straight to voicemail. I let out a sigh of annoyance and throw my Blackberry back in my purse. I’m sitting on top of my suitcase, which I’m hoping will make it hard for me to injure anyone else with it. The second one is propped up next to me. I kick around the duffle bag lying at my feet, and I go over what has happened so far on this trip that I was once so excited to be taking. Let’s see…I fell asleep on the plane and I had to be physically woken up by the stewardess. Brendan stood me up in a foreign country. I apparently don’t have the skills required to lift a suitcase. I fell on my butt in front of dozens of people at the baggage claim. And how could we forget that I also managed to cause minor bodily trauma to the most gorgeous guy I have ever laid eyes on. I lower my head into my hands and consider just exchanging my return ticket for one leaving tonight. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong upon my arrival pretty much did…so what was the point of even staying around, only to do something else to make myself look like a complete loser? I lift my head up when I hear someone clearing their throat behind me. I assume that I’m in someone’s way, but I’m so miserable I don’t care. I’m about to turn around and give them a piece of my mind, when a mysteriously familiar looking pair of dark denim jeans and converse sneakers appear in my peripheral vision. I look up to see the same guy I had not only made a fool of myself in front, but had also blown off after being completely rude to. Expecting to see him with a suitcase of his own, I’m surprised to see that he has a cup of coffee in each hand. He doesn’t say anything, but holds the cup in his right hand out to me like a peace offering. I smile and give a little shrug before accepting it. I’m still sitting on my suitcase, so I scoot over a little to make room for him. I bring my eyes to the unoccupied space next to me and back up to him, and he takes a seat. We just sit in silence for a moment. I’m not really sure what to say. He breaks first. “Thought you had to go…” he says, and takes a sip of his coffee. “I did. Over an hour ago, actually” I tell him as I glance again down at my watch. “My cousin was supposed to meet me here to pick me up…so at the moment I’m not going anywhere.” I take a sip of my own drink, thoughtfully. It’s no Starbucks, but I can feel it warming me up as I swallow. I wonder why he doesn’t have any luggage with him. So I ask him. “If I did, I might be tempted to retaliate,” he says, winking at me. “No, but really a mate of mine was coming back from the states, and I came to pick him up. I was just waiting for his bags for a wee bit.” I blush at the first comment. With the coffee in me, and having had some time to cool off, I’m feeling quite at ease. “So you came to pick up your friend at 8:30…and it’s now 9:30…and you’re still here. Where’s he then?” I ask, and it’s painfully obvious I’m flirting. Easy, girl. He pushes a hand through his hair. “Oh Ol’ George can take care of himself. He got a taxi off to the hotel.” I nod. “Uh huh…so do you often lurk around airports hoping to meet women?” I tease. “Nah. I ‘ave better luck in bars. Far less likely to be attacked by luggage…” he gives me a playful pat on the arm. I take another sip of coffee. My body is feeling warmer all over now, but something tells me the coffee isn’t the only contributing factor. I look up to find him almost studying me. “I really am sorry that I knocked you over…” I pause for a second, “and I’m sorry for just blowing you off. I’m not usually like that. It’s been a far from stellar morning, to put it lightly.” He puts a hand lightly on my knee, and electricity shoots through my body. “Hey, it’s all in the past, as they say. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He lifts his coffee up to his lips, but his free hand remains on my knee. He looks at me, and he’s completely serious. “That’s really nice of you. And I’m okay, I promise.” I reply. “You really waited around for an hour just to bring me a cup of coffee…?” I ask innocently, but I smile in spite of myself. He shifts his weight around, and places his coffee cup on the floor beside him. “Well, I had thought I’d maybe buy a couple of pints…but wasn’t sure what ye’d think o’ that..” His face doesn’t change, and I wonder for a moment if he’s serious. “Beer? At 9:30 am???” I say, incredulous. He laughs heartily. “So you’re glad I went with the coffee then, yeah? I should warn ye that the Irishmen all put Guinness on their breakfast cereal…we’ve about outlawed milk…” he’s teasing me again. I burst out into laughter. The real, joyous kind that just makes your soul light up. For the first time this morning, I feel like something could go right. “The coffee is wonderful. Thank you,” I say to him, and I awkwardly put my own hand over his, still resting on my knee, and give it a little pat. I pull it away, and put both hands on my cup, taking the last sip of my drink. I’m about to speak when suddenly I feel vibrating from inside of my bag. I put my coffee down and rummage through my purse to retrieve my phone. The name flashing on the caller ID is Brendan. Hurriedly I answer it. “Hello?” I say sweetly, smiling at the boy. I put my hand over the speaker and mouth that I’ll be right back. “Lauren?” says a distant sounding voice. “Where in God’s name are you?” I snap into the phone. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” Silence. “I know. I’m sorry. I overslept.” He says simply. I am trying really, really hard not to get angry. “Oh did you?” I say sourly. I’m starting to pace again and the cute boy gets up as he notices. “Look, I’m getting ready, I’ll be out the door on my way in like five minutes. Be there in twenty, tops.” He replies. “Don’t bother.” I say, and I hit the end button. Once I hang up, I kind of remember that if I’m stuck here now it’s my own fault… Whatever. The boy walks over to me. “What was all that about?” he asks. I give a heavy, exaggerated sigh. “I’m going to be stranded here forever.” I say matter-of-factly. He chuckles. “Not so,” he says over his shoulder as he makes his way back to my bags and starts lifting them up. “Ye ready?” I’m a bit stunned. So I hesitate for a moment before stuttering “Uh, yeah…s-sure,” and follow him. Following behind him robotically, and silent, I consider my options. Option 1: He could be a really fun guy to hang out with, and perhaps we’d chat, I’d get his number and he could show some really cool places around town, because obviously he would know where to look. Option 2: After we get in the car, he asks me where Brendan lives and he offers to take me there and drop me off. And of course, I hate to think of Option 3. He’s secretly a sociopathic serial killer, and going with him would lead me to almost certain death. I shudder at that last one, he doesn’t seem like a sociopath, but I can hardly say I know him. He’s so darn cute though! I wrestle with myself for a minute or two before he calls back to me. “Okay?” he says. “Fine!” I shout to him, he’s about 10 feet ahead of me. “Just…fine…” I say more to myself. I’m starting to feel a little uneasy. I trot a little to catch up to him still rolling my suitcases along leisurely. “Look…” I start. “It’s really nice of you to offer to help me out, but I don’t know if this is such a good idea…” I stare at the ground, avoiding eye contact. He chuckles. “So you don’t want to be stuck in the airport, but you don’t want to leave either? You American girls certainly don’t know how to make up your minds.” He says. I smile again (because when he speaks I can’t help myself!) at this comment. “It’s true,” I say, “and I’m really grateful for your help, I am. The coffee, everything. But you’re still just a stranger to me. I don’t even know your name!” Now I’m more trying to convince myself that it would be better to leave him then just go along with everything. I mean, so far I’ve managed to stay out of trouble. “It’s Keith,” the boy says. I’m still kind of lost in my thoughts. “What?” “My name. It’s Keith. Now you…” He gestures for me to introduce myself. “Lauren.” I say. Why didn’t we do this an hour ago? I guess I got so caught up in just talking to him and all my other problems I didn’t even think to ask. “Well it’s lovely to meet you, Lauren. Shall we go, then?” And he turns back and resumes wheeling my suitcases through the parking lot. Okay, I think. Now we’re friends. Acquaintances. Whatever. I think I actually trust this guy. Keith. Wow. A perfect name to go with his perfect face. I look up and he’s stopped behind the back of a beat up looking, retro Volkswagon Beetle of sorts. Now I have to laugh a little. Keith shoots me a look of confusion. “This. This is your car?” I give the car another once-over. He pops open the trunk and shoves in one of my suitcases. “This.” He starts, mimicking my tone, “is not, in fact, a piece o’ junk. It’s an antique! It’s got some groove to it…” he trails off as he lifts up my second suitcase and attempts to shove it into the trunk with the other one. I watch him for a second, because he’s fighting a losing battle. “Oh it’s groovy, alright,” and I tap the car with one of my boots. “I don’t think that one’s going to fit.” I say, referencing the suitcase. Keith struggles to pull it back out of the trunk, and nearly falls the same way I did when it finally pops loose. “Smart girl.” He winks at me, and goes around to the side to put the suitcase in the back seat. I follow around to the passenger side and see that he’s already opened the door for me. He finishes securing my bag in the back, and stands by the door, so he can shut it behind me. “Yer chariot awaits,” he teases as he gestures me into the car. I climb in carefully, and the inside of it is actually quite nice. He slams the door behind me and walks around to get into the driver’s seat. As he’s starting the car, he turns to me. “So what is it ye’d like to see today? The Keith Tour stops anywhere ye like.” I giggle. “I really don’t know. I mean, this is my first time here. Maybe I better let the locals do the guiding.” I tell him. “Ah…” he sighs, “well in that case, yer in for a surprise today. What you’re about to see, even many locals have not set eyes on.” His face lights up, which gets me even more excited. “Oooh where are we going?!” I ask instinctively, like a child. He brings a hand to his mouth and motions like he’s locking his lips shut, then tosses away the key. I laugh. And for the first time today I am not thinking about anything but the present. I forget all about the stupid things that happened this morning. My bad mood has vanished. All I can think about is what lies ahead. I look at him and smile, and we drive off into the peak of the day.
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Post by irisheyesrsmiling on Mar 31, 2010 21:27:49 GMT -5
I want to apologize for neglecting this. I appreciate all of you guys that have read the story so far and like it!! I've been EXTREMELY busy with school and everything I have going on right now.
I promise you, I will have an update by this coming Monday. I've got lots of time to write this upcoming weekend.
Thanks again for reading! I will not let you down!
Shannon
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Post by irisheyesrsmiling on Apr 7, 2010 20:05:47 GMT -5
I knew Dublin was a “city” in the sense that it was quite large and perhaps more industrial than most parts of Ireland, but honestly, in my mind I just pictured lots of trees, windy roads, and little quaint cottages. I thank God that I’m not the one driving, because despite my preconceived notions about my little country tour, as I’m staring out the window at the passing cars and the scenery flying by I keep expecting us to hit someone or something any second. I am not, nor will ever be comfortable with people driving on the opposite side of the road. After a while, I start to get little nervous and just shut my eyes all together because it’s a lot easier to not think about what’s going on around you if you can’t see it. “Alright?” Keith says to me, and I open my eyes slowly again. “Mhmm” I murmur, although I don’t sound too convincing. “Don’t worry yer ‘ead. We’ll hit the country roads at some point,” he reassures me. Still, I am not convinced, but so far he's seemed like a trustworthy guy, so I just nodded and went along with it. "So where exactly are we headed?" I pose the question tentatively. Keith gives a mysterious smile and tells me that I'll find out soon enough. I smile too, and think great, the more time that I get to spend with him the better, but I do actually have to see Brendan at some point. He was the whole reason why I came here, after all. Keith just happened to be a fateful added bonus. And just as I consider calling Brendan to let him know what’s going on, I feel my Blackberry vibrate in my lap from within my purse. “Uh oh,” I think out loud. Keith glances over at me, but doesn’t say anything. “Bren?” I answer, tentatively. “Lauren, seriously? I’m really, really sorry. I'm here. Can you just come back to the baggage claim and we'll head back to my place?” Brendan says to me, almost pleading. I have to admit, I’m starting to feel a little bit guilty. But not enough to go back just yet. I mean, how many cute guys were there in Ireland to be found? “Uh, well…thing is…I’m not there exactly...” I say and then hold my breath waiting for a response. “...What?” he says flatly, and his tone has changed from one of empathy to one of agitation. “If you’re not here, then where are you?” “Um, kind of with this guy. We met at the airport and he offered to show me around town so I’m going to hang out for a bit and I’ll be back later.” I say as nicely as possible. “A guy? Oh dear God. Promise me you'll be careful, okay? You better come home by tonight…your dad would kill me if he knew what you were up to.” he says. I sigh. At least this crisis was sort of averted. “I know, I know. It just sort of happened. I’m sorry I blew up at you earlier, and I will be home tonight, promise. I'll have him bring me home. What’s your address?” I ask while simultaneously pulling a pen and a piece of scrap paper from my bag. He tells me, we say quick goodbyes, and then it’s back to just being me and Keith in the car. Alone. With each other. “I ‘aven’t caused any trouble have I?” Keith finally says, furrowing his eye brows. “Oh no! Not at all." I say feeling a twinge of guilt. I'm not really sure what to say next. "You know how guys are. I’m a girl, so he’s just looking out for me.” I tell him. Keith smiles. “I know how tha’ can be. I’ve got sisters meself. And I’d go clear off me rocker if they’r going off with some stranger.” I giggle at this remark. “Well I think you should trust that she would fall into the hands of a good guy…like I did.” I say, boldly. “Aye, lucky for you.” He replies, and then there’s a lingering pause where neither of us speaks for a bit. Hoping to avoid awkward silence for the remaining three hours of this trip, I try to get a conversation started. “So…you have a sister, then? Just one? Any brothers?” I ask, and I really am curious. And with that our trip becomes a never ending conversation about our families, our friends, our likes, dislikes, where we’ve been, where we’d like to go, and everything in between. The expression "time flies" could not have been more true in this situation. One minute we're talking about music, and the next we've navigated off an old country road and are heading even further away from all civilization. "Nearly there," Keith announces, and I'm going absolutely crazy trying to figure out where we could be. However, as we creep slowly on, I can hear the sounds of water rushing in the distance. "The beach!" I cry out, and then clap my hand over my mouth when I realize I just yelled out loud. I absolutely LOVE the beach. I guess growing up you can say I've been spoiled, having more than several beaches nearby to easily frequent. But this was different. I was in uncharted territory, and it was thrilling. "The beach." Keith says proudly as he puts the car in park. His face lights up as he sighs. Now, in the rush of my excitement I hadn't really considered why he had brought me here. I didn't have a bathing suit, and it was December for God's sake...not exactly the nicest weather for a swim. He slides out of the car and comes around to open my door. "We've gotta walk from 'ere" he tells me. I look down at my feet. My leather boots were warm and comfortable, but I wasn't sure I wanted to cover them in sand. Looking back up at him, I furrow my eyebrows. "I should lose the boots, yeah?" I say. And I burst into laughter seeing the look on his face. "Alright, alright, I'm on it..." I say, bending over to unzip one boot and pull it off. Once I've removed my shoes and rolled up my jeans, I slam the car door shut and motion for him to lead the way. He turns and heads off in front of me, without bothering to say anything else. The pavement of the road begins to change over to sand as we wind our way through a path surrounded by shrowded by tall grass. As we get closer the path widens and over Keith's shoulder the most gorgeous scene comes into view. For a moment, I'm breathless. It's similar looking to the beaches at home, but the water is so blue, the sand so soft it feels unreal to be standing here in December. It's a bit cold, but nothing that I can't get over. "Wow." I utter, and it isn't until Keith turns around that I realize I've said it out loud. "She's a beaut, ain't she?" he says to me, and continues walking closer to the water. I nod and he smiles with satisfaction. "Come on, then..." he says, and picks up the pace. I start jogging a bit to keep up with him. The sun is reflecting off the water and I feel like I can see the horizon extend for miles. I'm so engrossed in this that as I'm still jogging along, I hadn't noticed that Keith had stopped moving. I topple straight into him, and in an effort to regain my balance I grasp the front of his shirt and push him to the sand. "Umph..." He grunts, and I land directly on top of him. He opens his eyes and looks straight up at me. "Okay, I get it. Yer clumsy, but really, knocking me over again? Now it's jus' gettin' old." he winks, and suddenly I feel very self-conscious. When I realize that I'm still gripping onto his shirt, I let go immediately and roll off of him to sit up. "It's nice here. Quiet." I say, although I'm afraid to look into his eyes as I talk to him. Something is happening between us. "A hidden spot it is. Not many know of this. Mostly the surfers." he says. "Surfers? In December? It's a bit cold isn't it?" I ask him. He looks taken aback. "Well I wouldn' go fer a surf in this weather, not enough wave action. This beach is where I come down to think, write music, things like that." Now he's sparked my interest, I'm really big into music. "What kind of music?" I say. "My own music," is his response. I wait for more, but he doesn't elaborate. "I study music at college, actually. I'm a singer." I beam with confidence. Something we have in common. A strange look crosses his face. "A singer, you say? Awright, sing me something." I laugh. "Uh, no no. I don't just sing on cue!" I retort. "Besides, I need an audience." Keith pretends to be offended. "What I'm not enough of an audience fer ya?" Hm, now he's got me cornered. I would love to sing for him, sure. But what if he hates it? I've made a fool of myself enough for one day. I really am not willing to take that chance again. So I offer him an ultimatum. "It's not that. You said you write. How about if you write me a song I'll sing it." A pretty clever plan, I think to myself. Why would he ever agree to something so silly? Keith looks thoughtful, as if he's thinking it over. "I'll do ye' one better. You sing for me, or you're going to get wet." It takes me a second to think about what he's saying, and at that point it's too late. A split second before my thoughts can even form, he's scooped me up, thrown me over his shoulder and is heading toward the shoreline. "Hey!!! Put me downnnn," I squeal, sort of kicking and screaming, but secretly enjoying myself. "Ye heard what I said," he says without breaking stride. "Keeeeithhh!" I yell, laughing at the same time. I'm banging on his shoulder with my fists, playfully, of course. "I'll do it, I'll do it! Just put me downnn!" He pauses for effect. "There ye'are" and he sets me down, ankle deep in freezing cold water! My feet make contact with the iciness and I scream again, running back to the sandy part. "You cheated!" I accuse him, teasing. "I got wet, so no singing for you sir!" He raises his hands in surrender. Wading out of the water and back toward me on the beach. "I'll get it out of ye' soon enough" he remarks, but I feel like he's bluffing. "Heya! Keitho!" A voice from distance calls out. Looking over his shoulder, I can see a group of three guys waving at us from down the beach. They're partially hidden behind more high rocks. "Aye!" Keith waves back furiously at them and grabs my hand. "C'mon then," he says to me pulling me along. "Where are we going now???" I ask, feigning annoyance. He smirks that ever so charming smirk of his. "It's a surprise..." I heave a sigh for dramatic effect. "You mean the beach isn't the surprise?" I ask. He shakes his head. "Nope. It's going to get better...let's go!" And he begins leading me somewhere into the wild blue.
Alright, that's what I've got for now. Sorry I didn't make it in Monday. When I say I've been busy it's an understatement! LOL. I'm hoping this will tie you over for a few weeks. Thanks again for reading!!
Shannon.
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Post by irisheyesrsmiling on May 23, 2010 20:02:32 GMT -5
** small disclaimer ** this portion of the story contains brief references to alcohol/places where alcohol is served. parties participating in these references are of legal drinking age. these references are strictly for circumstantial use within the plot and are not meant be crude or offensive, or to condone or encourage drinking in any way. On with the story!!
We end up about three quarters of a mile down the beach, when we finally catch up to where his friends were standing. But there's no sign of people anymore, just what looks like a caravan nestled between a little alcove of rocks piled high. Just as I'm about to ask a question, someone pokes their head out of the little door in the side of the camper. "Aye Keith, Welcome home, lad! Who's this 'ere?" asks a tall lanky boy with red hair, a killer grin, and of course, that adorable accent. I catch him giving Keith a look as if to say "nice, man!" but I pretend not to notice. I can't decide whether I should be pleased or offended by it. Keith takes my hand reassuringly and gives it a little squeeze. "Lauren." I say, staring at the boy directly in the eyes, refusing to give anything away. "Lauren, eh? Ye' don't look like a Lauren..." he counters, still with that silly grin plastered to his face. "Aye, Rosie, tha's enough, you don't hardly know her yet." Keith says to him. Then turning to me he says, "Don't worry, he's just letting you 'ave it..." I giggle. His friend seems nice. "C'mon in then, you two," Rosie says interrupting my thoughts. We follow Rosie into the camper, where two other guys are seated across from each other on love seats, knees touching they're so cramped. Rosie does a sweep with his hand, and says "Welcome to our home" as he takes a seat next to another boy on the sofa. I pull a face, thinking that three people can't possibly LIVE here. There's barely enough room for the three boys to just sit down, with Keith and myself standing in the entry way it's already crowded. "It's....cozy..." I say, trying to come up with a compliment. Keith laughs. "Don' worry. We only live here during surf season, and even then it's mostly for hanging out. Needs a bit o' redecorating, don't it? At any rate, this here's Caleb, and this is Johnny." He says gesturing to the boy on the left, and the boy to the right. I give a nervous wave. "Hi. I'm Lauren." Caleb waves back. Johnny extends his hand. I take it, and after a quick shake he pulls me down onto the couch next to him. "Have a seat, lass." he says, grinning. So I do. "How d'ye know ol' Keitho then?" Johnny asks me. I pause for moment, because I really don't know Keith at all. We'd only met a few hours ago. "Um...let's just say we happened to bump into each other at an odd time." I respond. Keith snorts, and I just shrug. What else was I supposed to say? That's what happened! The boys exchange confused looks. "I'm here on vacation." I continue, more for my own benefit. "Keith just happened to be a little a detour." Yes, it was cheesy, but it was true... Johnny shoots Keith a knowing look, but Keith is studying some fuzz on the sofa pretty intently. A silence fills the room and as I'm starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, Rosie interjects. "So I s'pose Keith has told you about his music career eh?" his eyes twinkling. "Rosie..." Keith's face tightens. I look at Keith, then back at Rosie. I'm not sure where this is going. "Oh yeah! Keith Harkin, the big guy recording in London! Waiting for his name to appear in lights..." I study Keith's face, which isn't giving away anything. "Yeah?" I say, trying to sound really casual about the whole thing. "It's not really like that..." he says, avoiding my eyes. "Now we're all modest, are we?" pipes up Caleb. "I think that that's really awesome!" I say, reassuringly. "I would love to do something major with singing, but I've got to finish school first..." He doesn't really look all too happy to be talking about any of this. "It's not a big deal, really. Just doing a bit of demo work is all..." I can't quite figure out why he's being so stand-offish about it, so I offer some encouragement. "Well if you plan on recording any duets, count me in!" And I give a little laugh. No one else laughs along. Now I feel awkward. Keith gives a little half smile. But the mood has taken a serious dive. I get up off the sofa and turn to him. "I guess I should be getting back to meet up with Brendan." I turn back to his friends. "It was really nice to meet you guys." "Aye, same to you lass, yer welcome around here anytime! Any friend of Keith's is a friend of ours," says Rosie. The other two boys nod their heads in agreement and wave their goodbyes. Keith doesn't say anything, just turns around to leave and I follow him out. We walk down the beach next to each other in silence. Not uncomfortably, just without conversation. Without realizing it I get a little too close to him and brush his hand with mine. That same feeling of electricity shoots through me and I'm not quite sure what to do. His hand doesn't move, and instead he takes my much smaller hand in his. Take a breath, Lauren. I think to myself. Just keep breathing. "Are you alright?" I ask him in a small voice. He turns and smiles softly at me. "I am." "Are you sure? I mean, I wasn't bored or anything, I think it's really cool that you're actually doing something with your music. And it's so great that you're so passionate about it. If you want to be a big star, who cares? I know I would love to sing for a living..." Okay, okay! says a voice in my head. You're rambling! He chuckles. "No no, it's not that. I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me is all." Now it's my turn to smile. "I like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character. You seem okay to me. And what do I know? You could totally suck. You haven't given me a good chance to hear you yet," I say, teasing. He squeezes my hand. "Alright then. How about it?" He leads me back down the path to the car. "How about what?" I ask, genuinely confused. "I will let you hear me." He says as he lets go of my hand and opens the door for me. "Ooh! Now??" I squeal with excitement. He slams the door and walks around the other side to get in himself. "Nope. Not now. Now you've got to get back to your family, remember? Or was that whole thing just a ploy to ditch my friends?" He winks. I hit him playfully on the arm. "No. I really do need to get back. Plus, I've been here for half a day and I haven't even unpacked anything yet!" "Well, I think that is wonderful idea. I'm playing downtown tonight at this little bar. Very laid back place, good environment. If you want to hear me sing that badly, you should come down tonight." I pretend to think this over, but my mind is shouting OBVIOUSLY, YES! "I'd like that. I'll get Brendan to come down too, he's into that whole scene." I reply. When we've pulled up to Brendan's apartment building (which to be honest, was a lot dingier than I was expecting), Keith gets out and helps me unload my stuff. He hands me a little piece of paper with the address to the bar scribbled on it, and I promise to make an appearance later that night. He says goodbye, and we both stand there for that awkward "should we hug or not?" moment. To my disappointment, we don't. Keith thrusts his hand out, and I shake it gently, purposely lingering a little longer than necessary before letting go. "I'll see you tonight," he says and I just nod. I grab my things and hoist them up the steps of Brendan's building. "Lauren..." his voice echoes behind me. I turn, expecting him to ask me a question or something, but he gets into his car without saying anything else. I wave to him as he drives off, and then I buzz up to Brendan's apartment. "It's me! Let me up!" I hear a click, and then a voice on the other end. "I'm sorry. If the "me" you're referring to is a certain Lauren that I am no longer related to because she ditched me for six hours this morning, please tell her that I am not longer living here." A pause. "BRENNN!" I whine into the speaker. I hear another click, then laughter. "Oh relax, I'll be down in a second to help you with your stuff." The good news, Brendan's apartment was a lot nicer looking on the inside. Although it did have all the makings of your typical "bachelor" pad, and I had a few ideas for making the place a bit more home-y. "Sorry your bedroom isn't so big, I don't think that room is really supposed to be a bedroom anyway." says Brendan. "Oh no, it's fine. It'll be nice to have a bed. I was afraid I'd end up sleeping on the floor with just a blanket or something." "Well, if you'd prefer that, I have no problem arranging it," Bren retorts, smiling. "Do you have anything in mind you'd like to do tonight?" "As a matter of fact..." I dig into my jeans pocket and pull out the piece of paper. "I was wondering if we could go there..." I say handing it to him. He studies the address and looks back up at me. "Are you sure this is where you want to go? You know this is a bar, not some sort of Irish history museum..." he studies me. "I know! Um..a friend of mine is playing some music there tonight." I say, shyly. Brendan rolls his eyes. "This 'friend' " he makes little quotations in the air, "wouldn't happen to be someone you ran off with upon touching foot into Ireland, would it?" I shift my eyes guiltily. "Maybe..." Brendan rolls his eyes again. "You haven't even been here twenty-four hours and already you're in love. All it takes is an accent huh? Whatever. If you want to go, we can go. But let me warn you, this is a genuine Irish pub." he says. "Okay...and that means..." "It means," he continues "that this is not some kind of dress up and sit with the family for a nice drink restaraunt style. It's a dark, smoke-filled, alcohol reeking place filled with constant noise, where your feet stick to the old beer soaked floor, and you have to yell to talk to the person sitting next to you." I sigh. "I get it. I just want to hear him sing. Please?" Yes, I'm begging now. Brendan holds up his hands in defeat. "Alright. If it's what you want to do." I nod. "I'm going to take a nap now, I'm totally exhausted. Wake me up in an hour or so?" I ask. Brendan agrees, and I go into my little guest room and shut the door behind me. Kicking off my shoes, I climb into the little bed that is barely longer than me, despite my being only 5'2. I pull the covers over myself and even though my head is swirling with thoughts of everything that has just happened today it isn't long before sleep consumes me and I settle in for some much needed rest.
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Post by aliblast on May 23, 2010 20:54:38 GMT -5
so cute! don't stop:)
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Post by laurenne on May 24, 2010 0:16:09 GMT -5
That was cute. More soon, please.
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Post by CelticLass91 on May 25, 2010 12:15:16 GMT -5
So good! Thanks for the update! ;D
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Post by Kourtney on May 26, 2010 21:32:15 GMT -5
Great update please write more soon!@
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Post by irisheyesrsmiling on Oct 6, 2010 16:07:03 GMT -5
Okay...a much overdue and perhaps much anticipated update?? Maybe not. It's a bit of a cliffhanger but it's been sitting around for a while. I am INSANELY busy, please try to understand. But the story is still lingering in the back of my mind.
I'm back at the well again. Only this time, my surroundings aren't quite as pleasant looking as before. In fact, the forest that was once so beautiful and intriguing now looks darker, and a little frightening. I hear a rustling from the trees and I whip my head around, but don't see anything there. Then I hear another rustle, closer this time, but from a different direction. Now I'm getting kind of freaked out. "Hello?" I call out, but I hear nothing in reply. "Is anyone there??" ...Silence. Still nothing. But then out of the corner of my eye, I see that familiar looking dark figure. On a sleek, black horse sits the man who I had seen here once before. Only this time when I look at him, a chill shoots down my spine. He smiles that same wicked smile, but I'm no longer curious. I'm afraid. "We meet again, lass" he says to me, and his eyes narrow. "I..um...yes, well..." all I can do is stutter. He's got me with my back against the wall. Literally. I have my back to the large stone well, and there isn't enough room for me to sneak past him. "Come away with me..." his voice lilts. It's musical, almost. I don't want to, but I feel myself being drawn to him. He's reaching for me once more, and I extend a hand, when a distinctly familiar voice cuts through the air. "Lauren! Don't do it, it's a trick!" the voice calls out. I look around, confused and retract my arm without thinking. "Hello? Hello...who's there?" I yell, growing more distressed. "Don't go with him! Lauren!" the voice warns me again. I don't know what to do. "Lauren!...Lauren!" it keeps calling me. I try to respond but no sound will come out. Frustrated, I circle the well, trying to locate where the voice is coming from. Then all at once it dawns on me. The voice belongs to Keith! "Lauren!...Lauren!" it sounds for a second time. Then someone reaches out and yanks me by the arm.
I shoot up out of bed. "Keith!" I yell right into the face of my cousin Brendan, who's standing over me, my arm still in his hands. He looks bemused. "Uh, no. Brendan. Remember me? Rise and shine, sleepy-head. We should get going soon." And with that he releases my arm, turns, and walks out of the room, shaking his head. I touch my arm in the place his hands have just been. I pinch it a little harder, just to make sure that I am actually awake. I sigh, and lay back down for a brief moment. Why do I keep having such a weird dream? I wonder. Still slightly dazed with sleep, I stumble to the shower. As the hot water pours over me, I begin to feel slightly more awake, and I once again ponder what this recurring dream could possibly mean. What if Brendan is the evil looking man on the horse and Keith is trying to rescue me from him? I giggle at the thought of this. A little to "maiden in a tower" for my taste, plus Bren is about the most laid back person I know, I don't think I'd ever be afraid of him. A metaphor, perhaps? Maybe the guy on the horse is some sort of tie or fear that I'm trying to break away from? Or maybe... "It's just some stupid dream that doesn't mean anything," I say out loud. For now, this is reassurance enough, and I concentrate on getting ready for my first night out.
"Lauren, are you ready yet?" Brendan yells to me from the other room. "Almost!" I call back, as I'm standing there studying my reflection in the bedroom mirror. After going through nearly everything I'd packed for the trip, I settled on a kelly green, strapless, but relatively casual mini-dress, sheer black tights, and sleek black leather riding-style boots. I wanted to look perfect for when I saw Keith again. I mean, it probably didn't matter to anyone but me. But seeing as my first impression was a bust, I wanted to make the second one a little more memorable. I step out of the bedroom, and Brendan gives me an odd look. "What?" I say, feeling slightly self-conscious. "Is the Kelly green too much 'trying-too-hard-to-feel-Irish?" He laughs. "No. I just thought you'd be wearing something a little more, I don't know, weather appropriate? It is December..." He replys. I roll my eyes. "Jeez, DAD, I'll wear a jacket, okay?" And I jog back into the bedroom to retrieve my gray twill pea-coat. The weather was decent enough earlier, a sweater was fine. I look at the clock on the wall above the bed. 9 pm. Alright, maybe it would be a little colder out by now... Our taxi pulls up along a stretch of buildings, and Brendan pays the driver as we get out. I look around, slightly disoriented. "Where is it?" I ask, looking up and down the road, it seems as if most of the shops are closed for the night. "Come on..." Brendan says, and turns down an alley. Following closely in his footsteps I survey my surroundings, which can barely be made out given that it's night time and the lights are back out on the main road. As we get a little further I hear the chatter of muffled voices and even more distant music. I can barely see it's so dim in the alley way, but the noise is sort of comforting. Brendan makes a sharp right and continues down a set of stone steps, opening the door to the bar that I never would have noticed even walking through the street in broad daylight. As I follow him inside, the scene before me is just like something out of an old Irish tune. The lights are dim, there are people of all ages talking, laughing, smoking, drinking...some seated at the bar, others grouped at tables. But one thing is certain, there are only friendly faces. I stick close to Brendan, feeling strangers eyes on me, and as we make our way up to the bar I spot the band just around the other side of the pub where a few guys are jamming out. Much to my disappointment, I can't see Keith anywhere. "Aye! Brendan, how're ye doin' Yank?" Asks the burly man behind the bar. He's middle aged, a bit weathered looking but still with a full head of red hair and beard to match. "Dano! Long time no see! I've just finished exams, and I'm ready to have some fun tonight." Apparently Bren's chummy with the bartender...interesting. The friendly old man meets my eyes. "An' is this yer girl here?" He says with a twinkle in his eye. Brendan laughs hard. "No no, this is Lauren. She's a cousin of mine visiting from the States for the holidays." I wave tentatively at the man, Dan I think his name is. He smiles even wider at me. "Well there's always room fer one more in 'ere! First drink's on th' 'ouse, lass. What'll it be?" I gaze at Brendan, nervously. Instead he orders for us, two pints of some beer I don't recognize the name of, and he gives Dan a friendly handshake. "It was nice to meet you," I say to the bartender politely. It never hurts to have a friend in the locals, right? I follow Brendan to a little table near where the band is playing and we sit. "Is this what you had in mind? he asks me, over the music, taking a sip of his drink. It wasn't. "Pretty much," I say. I pick up my drink in imitation. It doesn't taste half as bad as I was anticipating. I survey the scene again, I still can't find Keith anywhere and I nervously start to wonder if we're in the wrong place. The band finishes up a song and a hearty round of applause and cheering follows. "Where's your boyfriend?" Brendan asks, a little too loudly. I roll my eyes, feigning annoyance. "He's not my boyfriend, I don't even know him. I just thought it would be cool to come hear him play...get the full cultural experience," I tell him, making air quotes around the last bit. And barely had I finished my sentence when the entire pub went into uproarious cheering. I look past Brendan, over his shoulder where another group of guys and guitars had appeared. I break into a huge smile and loud applause when I notice Keith leading the pack! Brendan catches my eye and gives me a sideways glance, but I pretend not to notice. Keith looks the same as I had seen him earlier, with the addition of a particularly fabulous looking tan fedora. He taps the mic, testing it perhaps. He counts off and the band dives into their first number. I am a puddle right now. In fact, I don't know how it is that my body is not physically melting into the floor. His voice. OH. MY. GOD. I mean, maybe it was his good looks, and his guitar playing, and the adorable accent...but his voice. It was perfect. I can't wipe the smile off my face, but I'm trying to keep it cool. You never want to look too eager. I take another sip of my drink. As he lays into his guitar he looks up and his eyes lock with mine but it doesn't throw him. He smiles through the line, and I give him a tiny nod. I am loving this. Everyone's totally rocking out and people are getting on their feet and dancing. I resist the urge, although it looks like great fun. Then Keith swings his guitar behind him, grabs the mic and starts walking towards me. Crap. He motions for me to get up, still singing without missing a beat. I can feel my face heating up and I don't dare look behind me because I have no idea how many other people are still on their feet. I shake my head at him, as if to say, 'I feel like an idiot.' He gives me another goofy grin, takes my hand and holds it up over my head. I oblige by giving a little turn, and I start laughing. Brendan's laughing at me too, but in a good way. Keith gives me a little wink, turns back and heads to the guys. The song winds down and he finishes with a solo flourish on his acoustic. The cheers are deafening. "Yeehaww, thank you!" He says giving a modest bow. They launch to another one and it's just as good if not better than the first. At the end of it one of the other guys asks if there's anyone that wants to join them in singing. Immediately Brendan waves his hand over my head and I am fighting with him to put his arm down. "What are you doing?" I hiss. The same guy points at me and excitedly beckons me up. Once again, I am blushing hard. Keith nods, reassuringly, so I down the last of my beer and get up. Everyone in the bar yells excitedly. And from up here, it certainly seems like there are a lot more people in the place than I initially realized. Excellent. Nothing like being put totally on the spot. "What do I do?" I ask Keith desperately. "Well...whaddya know?" "To sing? Um..." at this moment I am drawing a complete blank. Keith turns to the guys. "Let's bring 'er down a bit. Ballad?" They nod. He turns back to me. "Do you know the Irish Lullabye?" he asks. I try to think for a moment. "...Ermm too rah loo rah, that one?" I'm panic stricken, but I actually kind of know this song. He nods. "Don't worry...I'll back you up." I gulp hard. Everyone is staring at me. Keith included. The band starts the introduction and I am standing there, feeling really vulnerable and alone. This wasn't what I had in mind for my first night out. But I am a performer by nature so I suck up my pride and go with it. The lights, though dim, are hot. "Over in Kilarney, many years ago..." the voice doesn't feel like mine. But it is. I can do this.
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Post by CelticLass91 on Oct 6, 2010 16:35:05 GMT -5
OH THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!! You updated!!!!!!! I loved it! How you described the bar, the music, the people. AND Keith in all.... It was great! *sits back and cheers for Lauren and her performance!*
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Post by laurenne on Oct 6, 2010 19:19:40 GMT -5
Thank you for the update. I loved it. I can't wait for more.
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Post by celticbear on Oct 6, 2010 22:03:44 GMT -5
Irish! Your Description was So Good I felt like I was right there with Laurene Cheering her and Keith on! LOVED This Update! Now Please Give Us Another Update As Soon As Possible!
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Post by orinocoflow on Oct 20, 2010 23:59:54 GMT -5
i like this story!
update soon!
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Post by nina01 on Nov 29, 2010 9:32:13 GMT -5
please update soon. Love the story!
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