The "Freeola Customer Forum" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
She was perfect. An angel.
She was everything he had longed for and still more, everything he hadn’t even allowed himself to dream.
He took one last glance then hit the button on the remote, she disappeared. He put his bowl next to the sink and left for work.
The journey was uneventful. As most mornings he was jostled by other standing passengers on the bus, and as usual he bottled his mild frustration, save for his cold scowl. As usual he gazed jealously at the cars stopped at the traffic lights, wished he still had his bike.
‘Should have got insurance after the first one went’ he muttered to himself.
A girl wearing school uniform looked up at him from her seat. He scowled back.
He hurried into the office. S**traight into the boss. Sh*t.
‘Late again Rodger? That’s the second time this week.’
‘Um, yeah, the bus was stuck in the traffic.’
‘I don’t want to hear excuses, don’t let it happen again. And no more warnings.’
He nodded and headed for his cubicle.
‘B*stard’ he muttered, immediately questioning the level of his voice. Not looking back he hurried to his desk.
Two and a half hours and three teas later he left for lunch. Sitting down with a warmish jacket potato he nodded to two of his colleagues.
‘Hey Rodger, did you really call Dean a b*stard this morning? To his face, like?’
He propped his head on his hand and looked at the table. Even the guys from accounts knew…
‘Yeah, I guess so’
‘Man, you’ve got some nuts…’
He managed to return a strained smile.
‘Hey Josh, what about the game last night, three nil…’ As the accountants' chat washed past him he receded into his thoughts.
At half past six he finished the projected figures and put them out for internal mail. Missed the last bus by ten minutes. He took another and walked the last two miles home.
Then he went to bed.
The next morning he woke to daylight. Damn. He’d not set his alarm.
He checked the time. Thank god, still early, plenty of time.
He walked into the kitchen and switched the tv on. She was on already. He hated missing the start of her slot, ‘But hey,’ he thought ‘could have been worse this morning’.
He watched the screen for a few moments. Hang on.. wasn’t that.. She was here, reporting from the town centre. He pulled on some jeans and a shirt, forced his feet into some trainers and ran out of the house.
A bus ride and short sprint later he was there. Joining the small crowd he waited behind the camera, regaining some composure.
Eventually they finished, and led by two security hands she began to walk away.
He pushed through the dispersing crowd. ‘Laura, Laura, excuse me.. hey...’
She didn’t respond.
A tall, stocky man wearing a polo shirt with the tv company’s insignia stepped in front of him.
‘Sorry, no autographs or...’
He tried to push past, but was stopped, forcibly walked away as she was driven from the town.
The security hand scowled down at him and returned to his own car.
How could she? This wasn’t like he planned. She couldn’t do this. It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t her…
He stood for five minutes, a cavity growing inside him.
He looked at his watch. Ten. As he gradually realised he needn’t go into work again more of himself collapsed into the cavity.
He walked home, all the way, and went to bed.
She was everything he had longed for and still more, everything he hadn’t even allowed himself to dream.
He took one last glance then hit the button on the remote, she disappeared. He put his bowl next to the sink and left for work.
The journey was uneventful. As most mornings he was jostled by other standing passengers on the bus, and as usual he bottled his mild frustration, save for his cold scowl. As usual he gazed jealously at the cars stopped at the traffic lights, wished he still had his bike.
‘Should have got insurance after the first one went’ he muttered to himself.
A girl wearing school uniform looked up at him from her seat. He scowled back.
He hurried into the office. S**traight into the boss. Sh*t.
‘Late again Rodger? That’s the second time this week.’
‘Um, yeah, the bus was stuck in the traffic.’
‘I don’t want to hear excuses, don’t let it happen again. And no more warnings.’
He nodded and headed for his cubicle.
‘B*stard’ he muttered, immediately questioning the level of his voice. Not looking back he hurried to his desk.
Two and a half hours and three teas later he left for lunch. Sitting down with a warmish jacket potato he nodded to two of his colleagues.
‘Hey Rodger, did you really call Dean a b*stard this morning? To his face, like?’
He propped his head on his hand and looked at the table. Even the guys from accounts knew…
‘Yeah, I guess so’
‘Man, you’ve got some nuts…’
He managed to return a strained smile.
‘Hey Josh, what about the game last night, three nil…’ As the accountants' chat washed past him he receded into his thoughts.
At half past six he finished the projected figures and put them out for internal mail. Missed the last bus by ten minutes. He took another and walked the last two miles home.
Then he went to bed.
The next morning he woke to daylight. Damn. He’d not set his alarm.
He checked the time. Thank god, still early, plenty of time.
He walked into the kitchen and switched the tv on. She was on already. He hated missing the start of her slot, ‘But hey,’ he thought ‘could have been worse this morning’.
He watched the screen for a few moments. Hang on.. wasn’t that.. She was here, reporting from the town centre. He pulled on some jeans and a shirt, forced his feet into some trainers and ran out of the house.
A bus ride and short sprint later he was there. Joining the small crowd he waited behind the camera, regaining some composure.
Eventually they finished, and led by two security hands she began to walk away.
He pushed through the dispersing crowd. ‘Laura, Laura, excuse me.. hey...’
She didn’t respond.
A tall, stocky man wearing a polo shirt with the tv company’s insignia stepped in front of him.
‘Sorry, no autographs or...’
He tried to push past, but was stopped, forcibly walked away as she was driven from the town.
The security hand scowled down at him and returned to his own car.
How could she? This wasn’t like he planned. She couldn’t do this. It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t her…
He stood for five minutes, a cavity growing inside him.
He looked at his watch. Ten. As he gradually realised he needn’t go into work again more of himself collapsed into the cavity.
He walked home, all the way, and went to bed.
There have been no replies to this thread yet.
She was perfect. An angel.
She was everything he had longed for and still more, everything he hadn’t even allowed himself to dream.
He took one last glance then hit the button on the remote, she disappeared. He put his bowl next to the sink and left for work.
The journey was uneventful. As most mornings he was jostled by other standing passengers on the bus, and as usual he bottled his mild frustration, save for his cold scowl. As usual he gazed jealously at the cars stopped at the traffic lights, wished he still had his bike.
‘Should have got insurance after the first one went’ he muttered to himself.
A girl wearing school uniform looked up at him from her seat. He scowled back.
He hurried into the office. S**traight into the boss. Sh*t.
‘Late again Rodger? That’s the second time this week.’
‘Um, yeah, the bus was stuck in the traffic.’
‘I don’t want to hear excuses, don’t let it happen again. And no more warnings.’
He nodded and headed for his cubicle.
‘B*stard’ he muttered, immediately questioning the level of his voice. Not looking back he hurried to his desk.
Two and a half hours and three teas later he left for lunch. Sitting down with a warmish jacket potato he nodded to two of his colleagues.
‘Hey Rodger, did you really call Dean a b*stard this morning? To his face, like?’
He propped his head on his hand and looked at the table. Even the guys from accounts knew…
‘Yeah, I guess so’
‘Man, you’ve got some nuts…’
He managed to return a strained smile.
‘Hey Josh, what about the game last night, three nil…’ As the accountants' chat washed past him he receded into his thoughts.
At half past six he finished the projected figures and put them out for internal mail. Missed the last bus by ten minutes. He took another and walked the last two miles home.
Then he went to bed.
The next morning he woke to daylight. Damn. He’d not set his alarm.
He checked the time. Thank god, still early, plenty of time.
He walked into the kitchen and switched the tv on. She was on already. He hated missing the start of her slot, ‘But hey,’ he thought ‘could have been worse this morning’.
He watched the screen for a few moments. Hang on.. wasn’t that.. She was here, reporting from the town centre. He pulled on some jeans and a shirt, forced his feet into some trainers and ran out of the house.
A bus ride and short sprint later he was there. Joining the small crowd he waited behind the camera, regaining some composure.
Eventually they finished, and led by two security hands she began to walk away.
He pushed through the dispersing crowd. ‘Laura, Laura, excuse me.. hey...’
She didn’t respond.
A tall, stocky man wearing a polo shirt with the tv company’s insignia stepped in front of him.
‘Sorry, no autographs or...’
He tried to push past, but was stopped, forcibly walked away as she was driven from the town.
The security hand scowled down at him and returned to his own car.
How could she? This wasn’t like he planned. She couldn’t do this. It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t her…
He stood for five minutes, a cavity growing inside him.
He looked at his watch. Ten. As he gradually realised he needn’t go into work again more of himself collapsed into the cavity.
He walked home, all the way, and went to bed.
She was everything he had longed for and still more, everything he hadn’t even allowed himself to dream.
He took one last glance then hit the button on the remote, she disappeared. He put his bowl next to the sink and left for work.
The journey was uneventful. As most mornings he was jostled by other standing passengers on the bus, and as usual he bottled his mild frustration, save for his cold scowl. As usual he gazed jealously at the cars stopped at the traffic lights, wished he still had his bike.
‘Should have got insurance after the first one went’ he muttered to himself.
A girl wearing school uniform looked up at him from her seat. He scowled back.
He hurried into the office. S**traight into the boss. Sh*t.
‘Late again Rodger? That’s the second time this week.’
‘Um, yeah, the bus was stuck in the traffic.’
‘I don’t want to hear excuses, don’t let it happen again. And no more warnings.’
He nodded and headed for his cubicle.
‘B*stard’ he muttered, immediately questioning the level of his voice. Not looking back he hurried to his desk.
Two and a half hours and three teas later he left for lunch. Sitting down with a warmish jacket potato he nodded to two of his colleagues.
‘Hey Rodger, did you really call Dean a b*stard this morning? To his face, like?’
He propped his head on his hand and looked at the table. Even the guys from accounts knew…
‘Yeah, I guess so’
‘Man, you’ve got some nuts…’
He managed to return a strained smile.
‘Hey Josh, what about the game last night, three nil…’ As the accountants' chat washed past him he receded into his thoughts.
At half past six he finished the projected figures and put them out for internal mail. Missed the last bus by ten minutes. He took another and walked the last two miles home.
Then he went to bed.
The next morning he woke to daylight. Damn. He’d not set his alarm.
He checked the time. Thank god, still early, plenty of time.
He walked into the kitchen and switched the tv on. She was on already. He hated missing the start of her slot, ‘But hey,’ he thought ‘could have been worse this morning’.
He watched the screen for a few moments. Hang on.. wasn’t that.. She was here, reporting from the town centre. He pulled on some jeans and a shirt, forced his feet into some trainers and ran out of the house.
A bus ride and short sprint later he was there. Joining the small crowd he waited behind the camera, regaining some composure.
Eventually they finished, and led by two security hands she began to walk away.
He pushed through the dispersing crowd. ‘Laura, Laura, excuse me.. hey...’
She didn’t respond.
A tall, stocky man wearing a polo shirt with the tv company’s insignia stepped in front of him.
‘Sorry, no autographs or...’
He tried to push past, but was stopped, forcibly walked away as she was driven from the town.
The security hand scowled down at him and returned to his own car.
How could she? This wasn’t like he planned. She couldn’t do this. It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t her…
He stood for five minutes, a cavity growing inside him.
He looked at his watch. Ten. As he gradually realised he needn’t go into work again more of himself collapsed into the cavity.
He walked home, all the way, and went to bed.