Monday, 27 January 2014


Expectations from Google in 2014


Google known for its innovative ideas and services across the globe and that is why people love to use it. This search engine giant is now becoming the part of our life, without Google we can’t imagine the use of the internet. Although we can say that today Internet and Google are the most essential things in our lives.
Google is a technology leader today and standing on the peaks of success with its gadgets and services. Google connects people by launching a variety of products and services whether its search engine or mobile platform, email services or high tech gadgets. Here in this post we are going to mention some of the most expected things, changes and launches by Google this year.

google glassesGoogle Glasses :
A Google most innovative product that has already made a place in the news headlines for the last year. This year it seems to reach the stores for public availability at the end of this year of 2014. Google is trying to show their glasses publicly in US to let the people try and taking feedbacks in return. They are also planning to enhance their software in the future and will announce it on the Google I/O conference in May or June this year.

Google smart watchGoogle Smart-watch :
Smartphone and tablets are now old and that is why Smart watches are making a buzz in the market this time. After the launch of Apple’s smart watch many tech firms are working on this type of gadgets to remain in the market. Samsung smart gear and Sony smart watch have grabbed some attention last year. An Android powered smart watch is expected to be launch by Google this year.

google-tvGoogle Smart TV :
Today most of the tech firms are looking forward to target your living room and taking it as a key point of success. Smart TV is the first step, where Apple and Sony have already launched their gaming console last year. Smart TVs are now in trend where Apple and Samsung has launched their products and people are taking an interest. In this series Google is also planning to launch their smart TV based on the Android platform.

google nexus Google Nexus :
Google has already launched their featured Smartphone known Google Nexus in 2010 based on Android platform. Google this time again going to announce its new android powered nexus device in 2014. This is a less famous Smartphone launched by Google but not because of its performance but Google has not represented it as a focused product in the market. Although Google nexus is the best Smartphone device  that can support Android OS properly.

Google ChromecastGoogle Chromcast Push :
Google introduced its inexpensive TV dongle last year that was really appreciated by the users. This was really a great approach in the Airplay zone in response to the Apple services. In 2014 Google will launch its enhanced Chromcast with latest functionalities in the market.

Google-AndroidGoogle Android Updates :
Google’s world famous mobile OS Android is now capturing around 80% of the world Smartphone market in the third quarter of last year. Till now android 4.4 was the best ever Android version that has boosted the android popularity in the world. The Android 4.4 version was featured with Google Now and SMS integration for hangouts with neat and clean design. It is expected that Google will definitely launch their latest Android version this year with any possible name.

google plusGoogle Plus :
Fastest growing Social networking platform Google Plus is now keeps an important role in the search engine ranking. CEO Larry Page has already told that Google Plus is the Social spine of the Google Company and its products. Last year Google introduced the YouTube and Google play under Google plus account. This time it is expected that Google will introduce some of its other products under the Google + account.

google-searchGoogle Smart Search :
Google was started as and search engine a still today relay on their core functioning that is search. Google earns a large amount of their total revenue from their search business. Google always tries to make their search easy and helpful for their users. In the future Google will try to give search results proactively based on your activities on Google +, Google Drive, Gmail and Google Docs. It means if you are writing an article on Google Docs then Google will show you the results based on Articles, Docs, and Books of your selected category.

google chromBookGoogle ChromeBook :
After launching many products and services Google has launched its ChromeBook last year. Many companies like Dell, Acer, HP and Lenovo has also launched the Google Chrome powered OS laptops. We can see that laptops and Desktops device sales are declining because people need a break. Google also represented a substitute for windows,Mac and Linux OS. It is expected that Google will launch their Chrome powered laptops this year with enhanced features and apps.

Google fiberGoogle Fiber :
After becoming the largest search engine and most popular mobile OS maker, Google is planning to give high speed internet services to the user. Google is looking forward to broaden its superfast fiber internet services to a wide scale. Right now Google’s Fiber internet services limited to the Kansas City in Austin area. Google is planning to cover Texas area in the mid 2014 this year.

Saturday, 25 January 2014

Short Story: The Doll

        One day, feeling hungrier than usual Francesco tried begging on the street, imploring those that passed for a coin or a few hours’ work in exchange for payment or food. When a well attired lady came along, accompanied by a young girl and a maid, Francesco asked the same question. But instead of dismissing him out of hand the lady examined him, asking if he knew his bible, and could he read or write. As Francesco answered in the affirmative the lady instructed him to come to her house the following morning where he would be put to work alongside the gardener, who was growing old and found it difficult to complete the tasks he was given. To Francesco’s pleasant surprise the grand house he arrived at was built on several levels with many windows looking out over a huge garden in which there was a large orchard, flower beds, and cultivated lawns with many pathways leading to quiet arbours and hidden features. Francesco thought it resembled the Garden of Eden, but Matthew the old gardener laughed bitterly. “An Eden maybe, but only for them as can take pleasure in it.”

      Francesco had little idea what Matthew meant but nodded pleasantly, as he’d been instructed by his mother to do. Matthew regarded the response with quiet reflection. “There’s no need to please me boy, the work is hard, backbreaking at times and may appear never ending. The Mistress demands high standards, but thinks kindly of them as does no wrong.”

       Francesco nodded his head again, repeating that he was not afraid of hard work. So he was put to work, and though young little distinction was made between the work he was given and what Matthew took on. At the end of a day Francesco’s muscles ached, his back could barely straighten out and his whole body shuddered from the excesses it had suffered. “Is it like this every day?” Francesco asked.
This time it was Matthew who nodded. “If you don’t like the work, don’t come back. The Mistress will find someone else easily enough.”

       Francesco knew it to be true, promising faithfully to return next morning.And next morning, true to his word, Francesco appeared as Matthew loaded his pipe. He regarded the boy pleasantly, giving out instructions for what was to be done that day. Francesco did all he was asked, taking a keen interest in the plants and bushes Matthew pointed out. He learned also to distinguish between a flower and a weed, although to him the difference meant little. But it seemed the Mistress and her daughter delighted in walking the garden, taking in the scents and sights of fresh blooms, although as Matthew warned Francesco was to afford the ladies their privacy.

     When Francesco asked why there was no Master, Matthew simply looked him in the eye and said. “You’ll learn, but not from me.” And learn the story he did, from Lizzie the kitchen help. She was a plain girl with a red face, caused by standing too close to the range, who brought them a simple lunch each day. “The Master, he come from a good family; they had money, but he was greedy and went in search across the ocean. Somewhere I never knowed, called Polynasia or summat – sounds like a strange place. He joined up with some others and brought back all kinds of unusual stuff, sold in the market. He did well that first time and thought to double his money, but he had his troubles. A ship sank with many lives lost, and though he was saved he lost a leg. Then he caught summat awful – out there in Polynasia. When he come home he was wasted good and proper. He lasted a few months and died most badly, crying out against God and the Church.”

      Lizzie crossed herself fiercely as the story concluded and then grabbed Francesco’s arm, twisting it painfully. “You’re not to say nothing in front of the Mistress or dear little Yvette. You hear, or you’ll get a slap from me.”

      Francesco promised he wouldn’t speak a word of anything he’d heard, though he wondered why it should remain secret.

     “Miss Yvette went a bit touched – in the head.” Lizzie confided. “When her Daddy died. You ain’t allowed to tease or cause her harm.”

      ‘Dear little Yvette’, when she appeared always brought along a large doll named Natasha, after the nurse who had first raised her and who in a fit of spite Yvette had caused to be dismissed. Why she continued to love the doll so passionately was beyond Francesco, who had been raised on a bare minimum. To Francesco the girl remained an over privileged creature who was subject to fits and outbursts of anger. Most people who worked at the house had grown used to ignoring the tantrums, but Francesco being new found himself the focus of attention for the deceitful child.

      “Hello.” She began, catching him unawares as he employed a scythe to clear a patch of ground.
Francesco ran a finger along the blade as he glanced sideways at the girl, who was probably his own age, but remarkably untainted by the realities of life. He made no answer, and continued working as the girl contemplated him blankly as she did most things she could not comprehend.

     “Why don’t you speak?” The girl insisted.
     “I’m not supposed to.” Francesco answered. “I’m working.”
     “Well I’m telling you not to work, but to pay attention to me.”

     Francesco scrutinised her closely. “No. I take my orders from either the Mistress or Matthew, not you.”
Yvette let out a shrill scream and slapped his arm; instinctively he placed a hand over her mouth, but she bit painfully and he slapped her hard. She fell to the ground too stunned to say anything at first.

    “I’m sorry…” He began, extending a hand to haul her upright.
    “What’s your name?” She demanded, refusing his assistance.
    “Why?” He retorted.

     She continued to glare until her face turned red and hot tears emerged from pale blue eyes. She cried copiously, but Francesco stood his ground, partially frozen in terror at the retaliation that threatened to be unleashed and also out of a sense of righteousness that she’d started this quarrel. His passiveness appeared to calm her as she hugged the doll closely to her chest.

     “I don’t like you.” She snapped, waltzing back along the path towards the house.
    “That was a mistake.” Matthew remarked, emerging from nearby bushes where he had remained hidden. “A girl like her never forgets, and never lets’ go. She’ll make your life miserable.”

    And that is precisely what Yvette attempted to do, inventing tales involving rudeness and worse she then relayed to her mother. The Mistress warned Francesco about his future conduct, and though he tried to defend himself she refused to listen. The lies continued unabated until the Mistress warned that one more complaint against him and she would be forced to dismiss Francesco out of hand.
Francesco asked Matthew what he should do, and he suggested Francesco might apologise. Francesco saw apology as weakness, and refused to do it; it went against his natural instinct, but what else was he supposed to do? He waited until Yvette was on her own, approaching with head bowed and hands clenched plaintively.
As the apology was delivered, the girl peered at Francesco out of pale blue eyes and then laughed into his face. “Say you’ll be my slave forever.” She insisted.
“No.” He cried. “No, I refuse.”
“Fool.” She said, fairly spitting as she spoke. “Fool of a boy. Do you think I want your apology? This is far more fun.”
And with that she brushed Francesco aside, but he raced after, blocking the path as he implored her to show mercy. “My family is poor and depend on the little money I bring home. Please don’t treat me like this.”
The girl laughed openly again, and this time Francesco lost his temper, pushing her backwards onto her rear end. He wanted to hurt her as she was intent on hurting him, but found a vindictive expression cross her face as he realised she meant to get back at him. Instinctively he picked up the doll she had dropped, flinging it hard into a patch of briars and brambles where it hung momentarily, before slipping down to remain lost forever.
Yvette sprang to her feet, bursting into aggravated tears as she wrenched at his upper body while attempting to claw his face. Francesco held her at arm’s length while her protracted screaming attracted the attention of her mother, the maids and a scared looking Matthew. All remained at a distance while the girl continued to pummel Francesco; eventually her anger subsided into shuddering sobs as her mother led her away, leaving Matthew to inflict the inevitable coup de grace. “Go home boy, and don’t come back.”
Francesco struggled to find alternative work, but was eventually taken on by a merchant keen to train a willing apprentice. Francesco took to the work, managing to succeed at all the tasks he was given. The merchant liked Francesco and helped with his education, allowing him to acquire knowledge and a respectable standing within the business community. The years flowed by and Francesco prospered, earning a fortune as his achievements grew and soon his status brought him into higher social circles where he married a woman whose family wealth matched his own. The marriage itself was little more than a business arrangement, but two sons were born which enabled him to believe he had founded a dynasty.
Francesco bought a large property in the capital city, from where he travelled extensively on business or for pleasure. He conducted love affairs and sought out the company of brilliant men and beautiful women, and might have felt content but for the one thing that still niggled and which he felt aggrieved by almost twenty years later.
On a whim Francesco decided to travel back to the town of his birth to put matters right. He felt he was owed an apology for the treatment he’d received, but on arrival found the house up for sale, having grown partly derelict from years of neglect. Francesco was able to stroll through empty rooms, taking in the fine detail as he examined the interior. It remained a beautiful old house, which could be brought back to life, and he was seriously tempted to buy it.
He was speculating on this when a sound nearby made him turn his head. A woman dressed entirely in black stood in the doorway, with a dense mantilla veil covering her face and upper body.
“Who are you? What do you want?” The woman’s shrill voice sizzled in the empty room, and Francesco immediately recognised the tone.
“Yvette? Is that you?” He asked.
The woman stared through him, raising a walking stick she had brought with her as a weapon. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
Francesco smiled. “I know you very well, but it appears you have forgotten me.”
He explained who he was and how he knew the family. All the time Yvette remained impassively at a distance, listening but never once softening her stance. She moved to the window, turning her back on Francesco. “The property belongs to the bank. I have nothing now since mother died, eking out a bare existence on the little money I received after selling off the furniture. When the house is sold I must look for charity elsewhere.”
Francesco pondered, considering the prospect would remain bleak for a woman of her status. It was then she raised the veil to reveal she had remained remarkably impervious to the effects of time. It quite took his breath momentarily. “And you never married?”
“Mother needed me, and after she died I thought I had lost my opportunity.”
“But why…..?”
She glanced in his direction. “I’m no longer a young girl, and the rumours about me have kept the suitors at bay. You must have heard the stories?”
As he nodded, Francesco was suddenly struck dumb as Yvette parted the folds of her garments to bring forth the doll he thought had been lost forever.
“Where did you find her?” He asked, examining the faded face and torn clothing.
“After Mother’s death I searched for her, and I’ve been cutting at the brambles piece by piece until she finally returned to me.”
“I’m sorry.” Francesco apologised, and he did indeed feel sorry, wondering if there was anything he could do to make amends, asking. “Why do you continue to wear black?”
Yvette glanced down at herself as if only now aware of what she had on. “Mother had my clothes made for me, but I’ve outgrown everything. It’s all I have left to wear.”
Francesco realised there was something positive he could do to help the woman, insisting she accompany him into town to visit a dressmaker where she was fitted for several outfits in the colours of the season. In addition he promised to purchase the house so she could continue living there, if that was her intention.
She asked why he did what he was doing, and he smiled. “I have my reasons.”
It might be assumed Francesco meant to punish Yvette for what she had done many years before and maybe that had been his intention at the outset, but seeing her again had put the idea out of his mind. In fact he had grown infatuated the moment the veil was raised; this may be hard to imagine, but Francesco had reached an age when he was seeking something entirely for himself. And once she realised, Yvette saw an opportunity to turn the situation to her advantage.
Infatuation can only go so far without reciprocation, but Francesco appeared ready to give and soon a maid and a cook had been hired, with a man to look after the grounds. Despite her supposed innocence Yvette had a fair idea of Francesco’s intentions, waiting until the bulk of the work on the house had been completed before asking the one remaining question. “Francesco, why are you doing this – I will not become your mistress, and I cannot remain a kept woman. I must be married, or there can be nothing between us.”
Francesco had anticipated this situation, and sought to put her mind at ease. “You know my position.” He replied. “I am a married man with a family, and commitments in the capital. I ask nothing of you, but that you think kindly towards me.”
“As your mistress?” She demanded starkly.
“Call it by any name you please. I cannot deny I find the prospect appealing, but I will never dishonour you.”
She examined him before picking up the doll, hugging it closely against her body. “No.” She responded. “No, I cannot agree to this and you will not force me.”
The disagreement went on repeatedly each time he visited, creating a rift between them, but the more they argued the worse his condition grew as he knew he must have her or die. Eventually his emotions got the better of him as he pleaded with his wife to grant a divorce. She was a woman who had grown used to his frequent love affairs believing he would return when the passion of the moment was over. This time it felt different, and they argued fiercely, but Francesco remained adamant. Finally, a divorce was granted, but not before Francesco handed over a large portion of his wealth to his wife and children.
Francesco and Yvette were quickly married, returning to the refurbished house to begin married life. But their first night together proved a disappointment after Yvette rejected Francesco’s advances, declaring she ‘needed time’ to adapt. He became angry; how much time could she need? Already it had cost him a fortune to make her his wife and he felt certain she was delaying simply to gain a greater advantage. In his rage he shook her violently.
She sobbed as he paced the floor. “And is that how you’ll show your love?”
He glared, but then softened. “No, I never intended to hurt you. I’m sorry.” He saw a blank look cross her face as she reached for the doll, and something inside made him snap. Angrily he snatched the doll from her, dashing it to pieces against the wall. “You’re a grown woman – you’ve no need for childish things.”
Yvette screamed, tightly hugging her knees. “After tonight, don’t ever ask for love from me Francesco.” She warned. “I cannot. I’ll never forgive what you’ve done.”
“We’re married Yvette, and you’ll learn what it means to be an obedient wife even if you cannot yet love me. Do you understand?”
Yvette regarded him fiercely. “You may ask many things of me Francesco, but I’ll never be obedient and never love you.” Yvette collected up the shattered remains of Natasha as hot tears fell onto the face of the broken doll. “She was all I had and you destroyed her, as you intend to destroy me.”
Francesco sighed. “That’s madness Yvette, I love you. Tomorrow, you’ll see things differently. You’re upset and angry, but I’m not sorry I smashed the doll. You really don’t need her anymore when you’ve got me.”
Yvette turned away, sheltering the doll against her body, and as she slept a curious thing occurred as the shattered pieces re-assembled; only now the once faded face had been brought back into pristine condition. It was the first thing Yvette’s eye alighted upon as she woke. “You returned to me; I knew you would.” She kissed the doll softly before hiding it out of sight in her wardrobe. And when Francesco woke she kissed him too, consummating the marriage with every sign of the affection he’d been hoping for.
Two months later he was given the happy news. “We’re pregnant.”
Francesco felt ecstatic, providing Yvette with every comfort he could obtain. A nursery was decorated and filled with toys, a crib and bright colourful objects to delight the senses, but as the weeks went by Francesco observed his wife with mounting disquiet as he recalled the stages of pregnancy his first wife had gone through. Yvette displayed no symptoms, indeed her body remained exactly as he recalled on their wedding day and he wondered if she had been mistaken.
One afternoon as Yvette strolled through the garden, Francesco went in search of answers, recalling how she spent a great deal of time in the wardrobe where her clothes were hung, able to discover Natasha hidden there. He was surprised to find the doll in one piece after he had seen her destroyed; his surprise quickly turning to horror as he examined her, noticing the swollen abdomen. Startled by the discovery Francesco laid Natasha on the bed, raising the skirts to reveal she was as fully formed as if she’d been a real woman.
Before he could react, he found Yvette standing in the doorway, beaming as she took his arm. “You discovered our little secret. Now we can truly become a family.”
He regarded her critically. “What is this travesty against nature Yvette – answer me?”
She smiled. “We’re symbiotic Francesco – joined as one, and bound together for life. If you ever expect love from me Francesco, you must learn to love Natasha too.”
He gasped, unable to speak as she stroked Natasha’s abdomen beaming up at him, and as he examined the doll found an identical expression on Natasha’s face. Francesco felt his mind must be dissolving and screamed, running to the kitchen to find a knife to put an end to this madness. Yvette followed, shielding the doll against her body.
“Destroy either one of us and the child dies.”
Francesco stared from face to face, unable to think or to breathe, finally sinking beneath the strain as Yvette regarded him defiantly. “How can this be?” He asked. “It isn’t physically possible.”
Yvette turned Natasha’s head to glance in his direction. “He doesn’t understand. He’s just a man and doesn’t know with whom he’s been sleeping.” The smile on Natasha’s face widened as these words were uttered, and Francesco wept, staring into pale blue eyes as Yvette stroked her head. “We’re a family Francesco; maybe not as others understand, but we’ll learn to love one another. And when the child is born, we’ll love him or her equally. Say it’s what you believe.”
He felt his choices wither, bowing his head as Yvette danced Natasha out of the room. Life was cruel, but no crueller than the turn of fate. Staring at the knife where it had fallen, he wondered if he possessed sufficient strength to put an end to this travesty before it spiralled out of control. And if he did, would it mean his demise too; nothing made sense anymore as he started to sob, but he picked up the knife.

Thursday, 23 January 2014

                                   Short Story: The Cure

This piece has not been edited by the ShortbreadStories team.
Gru was of the sort to never forget birthdays or what we liked to eat or whose underwear was whose. But she slipped off the treadmill one day. Now Gru’s all fucked up in the head, says Stewart.
I’m going to save her regardless what the doctor says. I’d be a better doctor than these shitbirds and I can’t even stay up late!
I have this plan and I have no doubt it will work. I’ve written it down and labeled it The Cure in my journal.
Gru, bless her, dribbles about the house now. And her cooking has gone to crap. Fried is black, grilled is black, and baked is black or sometimes pink. Black black black. Yuck!
Gru stands in front of the oven, finger hovering in the air, biting her tongue, ready to poke the oven in the eye again tonight.
“Mother! You’re trying to cook a thing for ten hours? Dammit! Move, let me do it.” My older brother Stewart is yelling again. He huffs and steams while Gru goes back to the refrigerator. She stops and drinks some of her juice first. She smells like juice all the time now. Then she studies the refrigerator’s insides like an eager doctor and comes from its belly with the mustard.
She turns and squirts the mustard over the pan of frozen pigs-in-a-blanket, smoothing it over with a steak knife.
“Mother! What are you doing?” Stewart yells.
“You must butter the rolls before they cook. Stop it you!” She yells back at him, shielding her pan of baby rolls like the lioness. I smile shaking my head at Stewart.
“Are we picking up again brother?” I ask. I don’t like Gru’s food anymore.
But Gru is still in there and I will coax her out. The Cure is the cheese and it will be irresistible to the old her. Father is away with the traveling circus. Gru saw her ring one night and tried to gnaw it off. That’s when I knew she was still in there regardless what Doctor Fuckface told them in the meetings. Stewart told me this was her name. I don’t like Doctor. Fuckface one bit.
Right at first, after Gru spilt her marbles on that treadmill, Stewart and I had our weird Aunt June come down. At night sometimes Mother called her Aunt June too. She smoked and smoked and smoked.
I tell her, I say, “Hey Aunt June! You know it would be better to shove that cigarette up your ass, yes?” She rumbled like a bullfrog about this and that and I never stood directly in front of her, or her stench would knock the shit out of me. Like literally smell her breath and I’d have to take a shit. Sometimes I would go in my pants on accident. This would get Stewart mad. It was bad and strange. But she was blood and Stewart said we didn’t have much blood left, so I complained as little as possible and avoided smelling her.
Luckily all the old fogies from church brought casseroles to the front door for those first few months and Aunt June got a boy toy or something and ran off. With the boy toy having fun somewhere. “We don’t need her. Right brother?” I’d said.
“That’s right Penn,” Stewart had said, “me and you can run this show now.”
Now on nights like tonight Stewart runs the show. Because we take Mother in public on her good days when she doesn’t smell or act as crazy. She gets around and everyone at church sees her and thinks she’s good. She’s grand. No more casseroles for those three. Them three are doing just fine.
“Dude this sucks,” says Stewart. He’s sad like he gets sometimes. I look up from my plate of green chile enchiladas.
“What sucks brother?” My mouth is full. I have to remember to chew slowly when I’m this hungry or else I’ll choke and that makes Gru mad, to hear me choke.
“Everything. The rice, these shitty ass turd beans. Dude look at my taco shell,” he says waving the flimsy corn in the air with his fork, “oh Senor, do I have a treat for you. The finest taco in all the land. Ole!” He puppets these words with the shell, spilling the meat and cheese and lettuce back onto the aluminum pan. I laugh and laugh and laugh. A talking taco mouth. Stewart always gets me.
“You always were special Penn,” Gru says from her place on the couch, spilling some beans held in front of her mouth. She’s holding her glass in the other hand, the big one that always finds its way to her at night though I never know how it gets there. She is watching Austin Powers. “One of you boys let that darn cat inside. I haven’t seen him all day.”
I smile and walk to open the door but there’s never anything there. No Mr. Bigglesworth, nothing but dried leaves and webs from spiders. Mother doesn’t hear the door close shut; she’s back to her beans and her movie and her drinking her drink.
That night after Stewart fought Mother to bed (no Stewart I have to wait up for the Pope to come on you fool), Stewart starts his routine. I don’t bother him when he does this because he gets quiet. Then he gets loud. But I’m usually asleep. On Thursdays we dress Gru nice and take Gru to the Lenny’s Liquor. Stewart didn’t have a driver’s license yet but he had a beard, so he’d drive if Gru couldn’t. Most Thursdays, since the accident, she couldn’t drive us.
But this Cure I’ve been working on, it’s going to come through and be the ticket. It’s the cheese even though I’m not sure what the trap is. And the old Gru is going to come crawling out of the hole in the wall of her head to eat.
Gru always, every time, came out of the store with the two boxes and put them in the trunk. She would gripe on and on the whole way home about the state of the store or the old guy behind the counter. She was usually shaking on those trips and I don’t know why. She would never let either of us touch the boxes when we got home. Where Stewart found them is a mystery because I’ve looked and they’re in a good place.
That night, after Gru was in her room, Stewart had the open bottle sitting next to his chair with the legs kicked out. To me he looked like the captain of a ship flying through space on autopilot. Tired of all those boring stars. He loved his drink nearly as much as Gru but would never let me have any.
Other nights, sometimes I would get out of bed to go get water without Stewart knowing and I’d see Gru’s light still on. She would be asleep and snoring with plates of food around her bed. It always smelled bad and heavy in her room at night.
But sometimes she would be standing up, swaying back and forth, and it was confusing. She never fell but I was scared she was going to again. The look on her face at those times was long and blank like maybe she really wasn’t in there anymore. Like she was a robot and just spazzing out and shaking. The old Gru never looked like this.
I’d shut her door back quietly and, with my water, I’d get back in bed and add more to the plans for The Cure. I had exercises and tests and diets and everything in my journal. I hadn’t shown Stewart yet because it wasn’t ready, but I knew he was going to like it.
I was too young to remember much before the accident but Stewart told me. Mother was a good mother and didn’t act weird and we were happy. Father was still home before he got recruited. I’d dream about him doing flips as a clown and landing in pools of grape juice that were on fire. He looked like Stewart in my dreams even though in his pictures he looked more like me, everybody said.
Gross Aunt June would cuss and cuss and cuss whenever I’d talk about him when she was there with us. “You’re just jealous because they’d only let you be the fat lady with a beard. They’d call you the Extraordinary Fat Frog lady and kids would be scared of you.” This made Stewart pat me on the shoulder. I’d say it often, before she left with her boy toy, to get Stewart to do that.
On Thursday the next week, I would ride with them to their session with Doctor Fuckface. I always had to be outside in the waiting room while Gru and Stewart were in there. I would hear them talking but it didn’t make much sense. I wouldn’t really listen. Just play with the kiddy blocks.
“Gru, Stewart, I’ve been pleased with Penn's progress the past year,” the doctor would say, “he’s come a long way since your husband left, and I guess I just got used to seeing him take small steps forward each month. But setbacks were bound to happen.”
“What setbacks?” Stewart would ask her. Gru would be shaking next to him on the couch. It was early in the day and these office visits made her nerves go wild, she’d told us in the car before.
“Well, Penn’s art journal has taken a move in the past few months. He’s no longer occupied with the circus drawings he used to love. He’s moved to repeating pictures of rats and traps. This repetitive motif he has titled 'The Cure'. He has written down lists of odd and end foods and exercises and such,” Stewart would grunt, "it's hard to make sense of, to find meaning in it. But it is dark and bothersome. In my opinion, Penn may be feeling trapped in his routine at home. Something new at home has him unsettled and it is coming through in his artwork. Does anything like this jump out at either of you?”
Stewart would say: “Yea. Things have changed of late. She’s shut down and off in crazy land most of the time past lunch. She’s here with us now but most times at home she’s gone. Tanked.”
Gru would start to sob. “Oh so it’s my fault is it? Show me the book on how to do this and I’ll read it front to back! I’m doing the best I can to handle all of this shit.” She’d sob harder and it would get quiet.
“Sure you are Mother.”
They’d open the door after it was over and walk into the waiting room. Gru would have wet cheeks and Stewart wouldn’t touch her. The doctor, she’d still be sitting there, writing fast as she could on her yellow pad. She'd look worried but all the doctors looked that way.
“What did Doctor Fuckface say brother? Is she getting better?” I’d ask hoping. Stewart would shake his head at me.
“Don’t say that in here Penn. Wait until we’re outside.”
“Ok…Are we going to get more juice before we go back home?”
“Yes,” both Gru and Stewart would say together as I followed them through the office door to leave.
I’d have to work harder on The Cure so I can set the bait soon. It’s going to work wonders for Gru, for all of us. I know it I know it I know it.

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Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Dear Friends,

                           Well Come

                                   My Blog.In this Blog You get some Funny story and Jokes.


                                         By: SANDEEP KHAIRHA