1. Paddy Gets A Wake Up Visit Part Three


    Date: 8/2/2016, Categories: Mature, Author: WobieTide, Rating: 1, Source: LushStories

    shower cubicle and grabbed up a clean towel to dry myself. I dressed hurriedly and left my apartment, I couldn't risk being on my own that evening, so went down to the ground floor of the building and entered the communal room. There were at least twelve to fifteen residents there and when I walked through the door, everything not driven by electrical current stopped. Conversations came to an abrupt halt, hands wielding playing cards froze in mid air, arthritic fingers manipulating knitting needles seemed suddenly stricken with paralysis that had previously been held at bay for years by medication, half finished jigsaw puzzles lost their enigmatic attraction, jaws dropped, eyes popped and tongues lolled out of open mouths. I hated this place of mendacious conviviality and false friendships, but I was going to have to endure it that night if I was to avoid temptation and being drawn into the dark abyss of immorality. After hesitating momentarily in the doorway, I strode over to the television corner where I found an empty chair, away from the maddening crowd, and there I sat for the next four hours, staring blankly at the TV screen. If someone were to ask me what I watched on that television screen for the rest of the evening, I wouldn't be able to tell them, but the ever changing images and inane drivel which emanated from it had the desired effect on my troubled consciousness. By midnight, the communal room was empty and I was alone with the flickering images and inanity ...
    and I had calmed down sufficiently to return to my studio apartment. I was able to pray, for a good half hour, real concentrated, meditative prayer which relaxed me further until I could recline on the ruffled bedclothes and attempt to sleep, but I was unable to. I lay awake, scared to undress in case the mere act of disrobing would somehow reignite the hideous temptation to reawaken the images of Tina and the lewd act we had performed together. I managed, that restless night, to keep my thoughts on other things, my departed Martha, our life together and our children. I thought about my children, growing up in a predominantly Irish suburb of London, seemingly happy, at least early on. I thought I had been a good father. I worked hard, brought home the money to keep them in reasonable comfort and well fed. I supported their mother and provided her with everything she needed to raise them. I didn't interfere, bringing them up and attending to their dietary, clothing, religious and educational needs was a mother's task surely. Having been raised in a dysfunctional family myself, I had no model on which to base my parenting method, I was not proactive in disciplining or rewarding them whenever an occasion merited one or the other. Being out of the house all day, I had little chance to observe or interact with them and trusted their mother in every aspect of their upbringing. I rarely saw my children in their formative years. I didn't understand then, when they reached their teens, ...
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