<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112</id><updated>2011-08-01T15:38:43.994-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Armstrong Legacy</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-1061993468425766174</id><published>2019-06-22T06:19:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:07:14.552-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Index Page</title><content type='html'>Legacy Chapters:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-started-as-any-other-day.html"&gt;The day started as any other day.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/arriving-in-sunnyvale.html"&gt;Arriving in Sunnyvale &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/days-went-by.html"&gt;Days went by... &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/stuff.html"&gt;On the right track?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/duty-calls.html"&gt;Duty calls&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/sorry-wrong-number.html"&gt;Sorry wrong number&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/ill-take-that-drink-now.html"&gt;I'll take that drink now&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.&lt;br /&gt;9.&lt;br /&gt;10.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-1061993468425766174?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/1061993468425766174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/1061993468425766174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/index-page.html' title='Index Page'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-7105432293994653643</id><published>2009-07-21T12:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:05:51.753-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Drink... Page 2</title><content type='html'>One lazy afternoon, Jayden found himself jogging through town. He found he enjoyed his jogs. It was a great time for reflection and solitude, peace and tranquility. No pressures, no expectations and no phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen111.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He narrowed his eyes spotting a woman in trouble. The man beside her was in a bit of a panic. He debated crossing the street, avoiding the whole situation moments before he heard her cry out in pain. “Ooooooooooooooooow!” His eyes widen, he recognizes her voice. Picking up his pace he reaches her in time to hear his idiotic ramblings.&lt;br /&gt;“Holy boop! You cant’ have a baby on the street!”&lt;br /&gt;“He he hoo. He he hoo.” Panic took over, the pain was not lessening, it was becoming more intense. “You… hoo… are, he he… not hoo…helping!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen110.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man beside her did not stop, he began panicking even more. “Holy boop, holy boop. Dude! What do we do?”&lt;br /&gt;She holds her belly with both of her hands, rubbing it and groaning. “Nothing…. he he… uuuuuuh! Go away!”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden approached cautiously, taking in the scene before him. He made eye contact with the woman, she appeared to be looking right through him, not seeing him at all. She was so focused. He turns to the panicking man, “Call the police department, not 911. Ask for Officer Hank…” He stares at Pauline, “What is his last name?”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline cries out once more, the pain ripping through her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen112.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden tries to get through to her again, “Pauline! What is Hank’s last name?”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline breathes, and huffs, “Off… Off… uhhhh… Hank Prescoooooooott…” Tears were in her eyes, threatening to fall. She could barely stand let alone move of her own volition.&lt;br /&gt;“Right. Call the police department, ask for Officer Hank Prescott, tell him his wife-”&lt;br /&gt;“Fiancée”&lt;br /&gt;“Right, his fiancée is in labor and he is needed at the hospital, ASAP.”&lt;br /&gt;Without waiting to see if he did as asked, Jayden hails a cab, scoops up Pauline and puts her in the back seat. The cabbie takes one look and groans. “Lemme guess, the hospital?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden gives him an apologetic grin and nods. “Sorry man, I suggest you step on it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen113.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arriving at the hospital, Jayden fumbles for his missing wallet and looks apologetically at Pauline. She hands him her wallet and struggles out of the taxi. Paying the man, he shrugs and follows her. “Pauline, your wallet. Listen good luck.”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline’s eyes widen, her head whips around in utter dismay. “You can’t leave me like this. I can’t do this alone.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden was torn. He knew she needed him. Yet there she was, the first of many women in this town that used him. He shook his head and chuckled at himself. He hadn’t exactly been the model person either. “Fine. Let’s go.”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline was relieved, “Thank you, Alex.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="WIDTH: 452px; HEIGHT: 64px"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/index-page.html"&gt;Index Page&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Next Entry&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-7105432293994653643?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/7105432293994653643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=7105432293994653643&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/7105432293994653643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/7105432293994653643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/drink-page-2.html' title='Drink... Page 2'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-206123456577289225</id><published>2009-07-21T11:20:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:06:18.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll take that drink now.</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/02gen101.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They stood quietly looking out at the horizon. It was a comfortable silence. The wind blowing softly across the water brought a taste of salt in the air. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, a smile playing on his lips. “I love this land.” He broke the silence at last. He looked over at her and cocks his head. She has a troubled look on her face he hadn’t noticed. “What’s wrong?”&lt;br /&gt;She shrugs her slender shoulders, “It is a nice plot you have. Only its still so bare and lonely.” She looks up at him with her sad eyes, “You’re lonely, Jayden. When are you going to admit it to yourself?”&lt;br /&gt;He shrugs his broad shoulders in a noncommittal fashion and turns his attention back to the sea. “What is the hurry? I’m not ‘really’ lonely. I have friends… I have women…”&lt;br /&gt;She sighs and shakes her head. “Yes, you have friends and they’re all women. Soon you’ll be the joke of the town. The go to man for any woman with cold feet. Engaged to be married? Just hook up with ‘Alex’ to reconfirm your love to your special man.”&lt;br /&gt;“Harsh…”&lt;br /&gt;“Maybe but it happens more often than not. Why do you let this happen to you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/02gen102.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Jayden, I’m not real. You and I are perfect together because you have nothing to lose. Nothing is at stake. I can’t break your heart. I can’t be unfaithful… and there is one other thing I can’t do…”&lt;br /&gt;He raises an eyebrow, his curiosity getting the better of him, he knows the answer yet the temptation to ask eats at him. He shakes his head, “No. I know. I don’t need to hear it.”&lt;br /&gt;“That’s just it, Jayden. You do need to hear it. I can see in your soul. I know you’re hurting. I know… and I understand.” She leans forward, touching her forehead to his. They stand quietly in reflection. They know she’s right. He’s been fighting it for some time. “Let her go, Jayden. Just let her go.”&lt;br /&gt;He wanted to lash out, he wanted to tell her she was wrong. Only she wasn’t. He is holding on to the memory, to the love he thought he had. “Okay.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll miss you.”&lt;br /&gt;“Wait.” He looks in to her eyes, her image begins to fade. “No! Too soon, I can’t do this.”&lt;br /&gt;She kisses his forehead and vanishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden took a good long hard look at his life. The first thing to go was his side job. Too many women were seeking him as their personal trainer, most with ulterior motives; a few sought him as a legitimate trainer. It became harder and harder to distinguish between the two. He was becoming someone he not only didn’t recognize, but someone he didn’t like. He decided to focus once more on his goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen101.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This gave him time to train, to jog, and to focus on work at the stadium ultimately it won him a spot on the AAA soccer team. He still jogged every morning. He glanced across the street spotting Judy and her girls deep in conversation. He grinned at them amazed at how the cliché held true. Time does fly and the children are growing so quickly. Judy looked up in time to see him approach. She raised her hand in greeting, waving him over.&lt;br /&gt;Jayden hesitated, his pace slowed a step. He glanced at his ‘home’ and back at the girls. He was so close. Judy was a good woman, and a good friend. He picked up the pace once more and headed across the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen102.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden flashed his grin, extending his hand cordially, “Judy! Always a pleasure to see you. What brings you to this side of town?” He grins at her daughters, he would recognize them in a crowd but he could never remember their names.&lt;br /&gt;“Alex, I was hoping to run in to you. I haven’t seen you in weeks. I was starting to think the rumors were true.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden’s grin faltered, “Rumors?”&lt;br /&gt;Judy laughed, “Poor choice of words? Its just an expression. How have you been? I hear you’re playing at the stadium these days. Just think I know a real athlete. Does that make me famous?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden laughed with her and waggled his eyebrows, “You would have to be caught in scandalous photographs with me in order for that to happen.”&lt;br /&gt;The girls looked at their mother and then at Jayden and giggled. Judy blushed deeply and shoo’d the girls away. “Not going to happen!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen103.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judy smacked his arm playfully, “The things you say!”&lt;br /&gt;They both laughed easily. Judy was one woman Jayden could relax around. She was very happily married and never looked at Jayden as prey.&lt;br /&gt;“So what ‘are’ you doing on this side of town?”&lt;br /&gt;Judy nodded towards her daughters, “Angel has a project for school. She’s required to find specimens of specific foliage. We’ve been to every park in Sunnyvale and this is our last hope. Thankfully I think she found what she’s looking for on that lot of yours. I was hoping…”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden glanced over his shoulder at his ‘home’ and back at Judy. “I have something Angel needs?”&lt;br /&gt;“Ew!” They both looked at Angel then at each other before breaking down laughing again.&lt;br /&gt;“Let’s rephrase that shall we? If there is anything that can help Angel for her school project, she’s welcome to it.”&lt;br /&gt;“Thanks, Alex.” Angel waves at him and runs across the street towards his lot followed closely by her tag-along little sister. Their voices carry across the lot to the adults, “Stop it! Just the leaf… No, not that one!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen105.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judy looks at Jayden, her eyes soften, “You look terrible.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden’s head shoots up, taken aback. “Terrible? Me? I’ve been working out. I must stink to the heavens. Sorry about that.”&lt;br /&gt;Judy shakes her head, “No silly. It’s your eyes. Something’s wrong. Tell me?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden grins lowering his head once more, “You’ve been a good friend, Judy. I don’t think you can help me with this one.”&lt;br /&gt;Judy watches him and harrumphs, “I know that look only too well. You need a woman.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden loses it in spite of himself, he throws his head back with laughter and clutches his stomach before he regains control. “That is such a ‘guy’ thing to say.”&lt;br /&gt;Judy smacks his arm once more, “That isn’t what I meant… but you could probably use that to.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen107.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden shakes his head, “I appreciate your concern. You may be right… but right now, I need to get my life together. What do I have to offer a woman, but an empty… ish lot, a broken man, and a great garden with a view?”&lt;br /&gt;Judy smiles sympathetically, “I know there is a woman out there that would jump at the chance of healing that broken man. Stop selling yourself short, Alex. You’ve got a lot to offer a woman. I’m going on a limb here, but I’m guessing a woman hurt you once and you’re gun shy now. Well let me just tell you, take a chance again. Not all women are heartless. Some of us are down right nice.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden smiles at Judy and contemplates what she’s said, he can’t argue her logic. Stereotyping every woman in town as a manipulative, heartless, bitch was getting him no where fast and he did want a good woman in his life. “I’ll tell you what, Judy. You find a woman as fantastic as you are. I’ll give her a chance… deal?”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m being serious!”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden shrugged, “Me too. I’m running late for work. You find her and let me know!” He waves over his shoulder and crosses the street towards his ‘home’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/drink-page-2.html"&gt;page 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-206123456577289225?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/206123456577289225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=206123456577289225&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/206123456577289225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/206123456577289225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/ill-take-that-drink-now.html' title='I&apos;ll take that drink now.'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-5998565260366265837</id><published>2009-07-15T17:51:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:06:54.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrong... Page 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen90.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sorry about that. A client required my immediate attention. Now as I mentioned this is the meeting area, behind you is the community kitchen. All the food is paid for by the dues you pay monthly so no need to worry about having money on you while working out.” He flashes a smile, “It is rather convenient that way.”&lt;br /&gt;Whitney smiled sweetly at him, “That is convenient. So do clients call you often?”&lt;br /&gt;“Occasionally, usually only to set up appointment times, I have a full time job and don’t train others as often as I once had. My schedule remains pretty intense.”&lt;br /&gt;She bites her lip thoughtfully, “I appreciate you making the time to meet with me.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden flashes his smile, “My pleasure.” He winks at Kaylynn who glanced up from her homework. She giggles at Jayden and waves. “As you can see it is a great place for families as well.”&lt;br /&gt;“Uh huh…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen91.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He could tell he was losing her. Just as well, he wasn’t sure he could take on another client right now, even if the money was good. “You mentioned you have a specific goal in mind. Mind if I ask what that would be?”&lt;br /&gt;Whitney perks up, “Oh yes. I need to be perfect before my wedding!” She extends her hand to him showing her ring with pride. Jayden feigns interest. Another one… great.&lt;br /&gt;“Congratulations. Perfection is an admirable goal to shoot for.” His eyes flick over her body measuring her up and mentally creating a work out schedule for her. “When is the big day?”&lt;br /&gt;“I have 6 months from tomorrow.” She bites her lip and wrinkles her nose. “Do you think you can help me?”&lt;br /&gt;“You’d have to work out at least three times a week.” He narrows his eyes and gives her a once over again, “Possibly five towards the end adding in yoga along with the cardio and toning.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yoga? Really?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen92.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden finds his mind drifting back to his phone call and stares at Whitney, “What? Oh yoga, yes. It is great for your mental health as well as your body. You’d be surprised.” His eyebrows knit as he drifts once more.&lt;br /&gt;Whitney leans in having lowered her voice, “I heard yoga can be very… intense.” She begins blushing, “They even say that the stretching can make you more uh… limber.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden looks at her blankly trying desperately to catch up with her ramblings. “Uh… ya.” He brushes his hand through his hair. “Yoga has some definite benefits. I strongly suggest it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen93.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whitney bites her lip and bats her eyes, “Will you be teaching me yoga, Alex?” Her breath brushes lightly against his cheek as she spoke to him.&lt;br /&gt;“I need you to stay away from my baby, Alex! Promise me.” Jayden’s head snaps up, what did she just say? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Jayden was feeling so lost. That nagging in the back of his head, finally got his attention but good. That is what is missing from his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="WIDTH: 452px; HEIGHT: 64px"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/index-page.html"&gt;Index Page&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/ill-take-that-drink-now.html"&gt;Next Entry&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-5998565260366265837?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/5998565260366265837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=5998565260366265837&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/5998565260366265837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/5998565260366265837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/wrong-page-2.html' title='Wrong... Page 2'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-3108492056200753189</id><published>2009-07-13T14:26:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T18:11:45.267-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry wrong number.</title><content type='html'>Work has become a new part of his daily routine. Meeting the coaches and some of players while he assisted in the field upkeep was turning out to be beneficial. He made some good contacts and has made an impression on the coaches as a reliable ‘go-to’ guy.&lt;br /&gt;Now that he’s got a job things were rolling along for Jayden. He had a steady income, along with his personal trainer income, he had his lot, he found a floor plan which allowed room for growth and construction was to begin soon. Something was still missing and it nagged at the back of his mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen85.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He apologizes to the young lady as his phone rang again. She tries to smile yet is clearly annoyed at being interrupted. “I’ll be right with you. Why not take a look at the meeting area. You’re sure to find some refreshments if you’d like.”&lt;br /&gt;With that he turns his back on her intent on answering his insistent phone as it annoyingly rings once more. “Armstrong.” He snaps, his voice was a bit harsher and impatient than intended.&lt;br /&gt;“A-Alex?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden tenses at once. Why didn’t he look at the caller ID before answering? He always looks. Keep it simple, keep it forward, get off the phone and back to work. He clears his throat before responding, “Speaking.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything important…” she momentarily hesitates feigning concern.&lt;br /&gt;Jayden smirks, “Right. What can I do for you?”&lt;br /&gt;You could almost hear Pauline’s discomfort. “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to tell you Hank postponed our wedding.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden’s smirk fades. His brow knits in thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen86.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to respond to this bit of news? While he was curious as to Hanks reasons, he was also acutely aware of the young woman trying to get his attention. There is also the question of why was Pauline calling him to give him this news personally? What is her game? What did she intend to accomplish with this insight she has given?&lt;br /&gt;“Alex?” Pauline sighs exaggeratedly, “Alex did you hear me?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden’s mind raced, “Yes, I heard you.” He paused as a thought struck him, Hank knows. He shrugs his broad shoulders, water under the bridge if he does. It happened months ago.&lt;br /&gt;Pauline’s voice raised an octave or two as panic sets in. “Is that all you’re going to… Hank is suspicious. He won’t straight out accuse me, but he gives me odd looks… not to mention… well…”&lt;br /&gt;“Pauline, now isn’t a good time. I am with a potential client.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen87.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her shrill voice pierced through his ear as her panic hits an all time high, “Client? You’re worried about your client as my world falls apart? Alex, I’m pregnant!”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden’s eyebrows raise, his eyes widen in utter surprise and he finds he’s utterly speechless. “I… you’re…”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline has lost control and breaks down in tears, her sobs muffle her mutterings in to incoherent rants. Jayden lets out his breath slowly still taking in everything she had said up until he couldn’t understand her any more. “Pauline…” He tries several times to break through to her over her grumbling. “Calm down, Pauline. I haven’t a clue what you’re rambling on about.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen88.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t know what to do, Alex!”&lt;br /&gt;“Pauline, relax. Things will work out. Hank loves you. He will come around and be a good dad.” Jayden had lowered his voice in order to keep others from listening in. Last thing he needed was the rumors to start.&lt;br /&gt;“I can’t lose Hank, I won’t… I… I just won’t!” Pauline breaks down in to fresh tears. “I need you to stay away from my baby, Alex! Promise me.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden was floored. Did they use protection? His mind raced backwards trying desperately to remember if he had, only to come up blank. He couldn’t recall. They must have. Surely…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/wrong-page-2.html"&gt;page 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-3108492056200753189?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/3108492056200753189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=3108492056200753189&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/3108492056200753189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/3108492056200753189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/sorry-wrong-number.html' title='Sorry wrong number.'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-576475595712589447</id><published>2009-07-08T13:18:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T15:14:37.569-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Duty... Page 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen81.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m heading to the gym. Are you gonna be okay?”&lt;br /&gt;“Y-yes.” She hesitates before taking his hands in hers, “I’m not sorry I called you, Alex.”&lt;br /&gt;“It’s cool Pauline. You belong with Hank. We both know it. Don’t stress yourself out about last night. It never happened. You had too much to drink, I only brought you here so you could sleep it off.” He gave her hand a soft squeeze, “It’s all good.”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline was so torn, she looked up at him gratefully, her eyes haunted. “You’re really one of the good ones Alex. If only…”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden chuckles, “I’m not ‘good’, Pauline.” He pulls her in to his embrace, their eyes locked, his hands resting easily and familiarly on her lower back. Their bodies meshing together naturally, “I just know you belong with Hank… that’s all. No more tempting me… I may not say no… then where will you be?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen80.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauline didn’t fight him, she didn’t move away nor break his intense gaze, her finger tips slid lightly up and down his strong arms. She struggled with her wants and needs. Her breathing became more erratic as her heart raced, “Right where I am now. In your arms, seconds away from your lips, steps away from your bed…” She lifts her lips to him in an offering, she wanted those lips, she wanted to feel them once more… sober… to memorize each moment, for they will be the last time she will ever taste him or touch him again.&lt;br /&gt;Jayden growled deeply, his lips on her exposed neck. He could feel her racing heartbeat. His voice husky, “Pauline…”&lt;br /&gt;She pressed her body against his, moving against his groin, whispering her need to him. Her pert breasts rubbed against his hard chest, her nips grew harder with her excitement, “Please, Alex. Don’t deny me. After this I go back to Hank… I need this… I need you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen82.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their kiss was hot, deep, sensual and animalistic in their need for each other. Their hands roaming each other’s bodies, her nails raking across his back, he hisses as he lifts her tiny frame. Instantly she wraps her legs around his waist, clinging to him as he staggers towards the bed. “No mercy, Alex. Make me remember this day forever.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen84.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden tosses her across the bed, tears off his sweats, before using his body to pin her down, “No mercy?” He smiles mischievously, a hard glint in his steely eyes, “You’ll be begging me to stop…”&lt;br /&gt;She gasps in delight, “Promise?”&lt;br /&gt;“Promise.” He positions himself between her supple thighs, she lifts her hips urging him to take her and keep his promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="WIDTH: 452px; HEIGHT: 64px"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/index-page.html"&gt;Index Page&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/sorry-wrong-number.html"&gt;Next Entry&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-576475595712589447?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/576475595712589447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=576475595712589447&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/576475595712589447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/576475595712589447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/duty-page-2.html' title='Duty... Page 2'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-349056770394084065</id><published>2009-07-08T11:38:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T13:51:11.121-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Duty calls</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen56.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bills, bills, more bills… he opens the lid of the trash can and rifles through the mail. Bill, tucks it under his arm; junk, tosses it in the trash; he continues through the mail until one catches his eye. He stops, reads the return address once more and his eyes widen.&lt;br /&gt;Quickly he opens the envelope, half expecting it to be a straight out rejection. After all, what does he know about caring for a soccer field? His eyes scan the letter picking out key words here and there until they reach near the end, he finds the words he was looking for. “Yes!” He pumps his fists in the air dropping the bills on the ground. They’ll have to wait until his first paycheck anyhow. ‘Paycheck’ ah the word has a great ring to it. He is finally gainfully employed. While it isn’t the job of a life time, it is a paying job and that is what counts. Looking around his lot he can’t help but grin. Things are definitely looking up.&lt;br /&gt;His mind races with ideas of his future home. Living room here, a dining room there, maybe a bedroom over there and a bathroom or three scattered around for convenience. Later a garage can be built off to the side, with a car or two inside. He closed his eyes envisioning his future home. His thoughts shatter as his phone rings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen57.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His cell phone rings again. He recognizes the number showing on the caller ID immediately. Clicking the phone he answers, “Armstrong.”&lt;br /&gt;“Hi Alex!” His eyebrow quirks in amusement her usual sing song voice on the other end is a bit slurred and exaggerated tonight.&lt;br /&gt;“And what are you up to tonight?”&lt;br /&gt;“I need you.” A small crash of glass can be heard in the background and a bit of cursing. Jayden chuckles as he listens, her voice urgent and lowered, she rushes on, “oh my stars, Alex! I can’t do it. I need your help. I don’t know where I put my car and…” a long pause is heard as she gathers her thoughts, “I think I had too much…”&lt;br /&gt;He rolls his eyes and laughs, he finally gets a few more details out of her and instructs her to stay put. “Don’t move. I’ll be right there.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen58.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden sits quietly in the back of the cab. The cabbie doesn’t bother with small talk, simply concentrating on the windy road from his lot towards downtown. He shoots a questioning look at Jayden but doesn’t question him further. No point really, he’s getting paid regardless of what his intentions are. He takes another quick glance making note of any distinguishing features just in case.&lt;br /&gt;Jayden does his best to ignore the cabby. Breathing a sigh of relief as the bistro comes in sight. Just as directed he sees her standing where she was, not moving… much… he makes note of her sway as she struggles to stand still.&lt;br /&gt;“Keep the meter running, I have to pay her tab…” He tosses §5 on the front seat, “your tip gets bigger the longer it takes me to get back to you. Deal?”&lt;br /&gt;The cabby raises an eyebrow, grabs the money and looks at the small wad in his hand. He shrugs noncommittally, “You’re the boss.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen59.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden steps out of the cab, walks towards her. She spots him and squeals happily. “You came for me!” Her words drawn out and slurred, he shakes his head.&lt;br /&gt;“Of course I did. I still don’t know why you called me… but I can’t leave a friend to her own devices… especially when you’re as drunk as you are.”&lt;br /&gt;She stomps her foot in protest, knocking her balance off kilter she sways and pouts, “I. am. not. not… drunk!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen60.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden sighs and walks past her towards the bistro to pay for any tab she may have. She can owe him… oh she owes him… she owes him big for this one. “Meter is running Pauline. How much do you owe them?”&lt;br /&gt;“Owe who?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden shoots her a glance and stifles a laugh. “You may want to stay in the fresh air, it will do you some good. I’ll be right back.” Just inside the bistro, Jayden met up with the host and updated him on the situation, offering to pay Pauline’s tab and for any damages she may have caused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen63.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Let’s go.”&lt;br /&gt;“Go?”&lt;br /&gt;“Home, Pauline, I’m taking you home…” She pouts like a little girl, her pigtails accentuating the childish act, Jayden can’t help but grin, “Where is Hank? Why didn’t you call him?”&lt;br /&gt;“He’s on duty.” She waves a dismissive hand, “I can’t bug him with my immature, behavior every time I want attention.”&lt;br /&gt;“You’ve got that memorized. I take it he’s said it often.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen64.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Alex? Take me home… please…”&lt;br /&gt;“That’s what I’m trying to do. Come on. Let’s get you home.”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline looks at him with wild eyes, shakes her head rapidly, her pigtails flailing back and forth, “Nooooooooo… I don’t want to be alone, please don’t make me.” She flings her body to his, pressing her body against him and clings to him desperately. Jayden wraps his arms around her keeping her on her feet. Her whimpers muffled in his chest.&lt;br /&gt;Jayden sighs, “you should have called Hank.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen65.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Come on, lets get you home.”&lt;br /&gt;“Your home?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden stares at her for a moment and shrugs, “Ya come on…”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline squeals in delight once more and bounces, “Thank you! It wont be horrible, you’ll see!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen68.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They sat quietly on the ride back to his lot. ‘It won’t be horrible.’ Jayden glances her way once more wondering what ‘it’ is and why it would be horrible in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;She sits anxiously, oo’ing and aw’ing at each house they pass. “Hey that’s the Laandgrab house!” She points excitedly, jabbing at the window.&lt;br /&gt;Jayden chuckles, “I know. They’re my neighbors.”&lt;br /&gt;She gawks at their home, wide eyed and innocently, “Really?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen69.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauline squirms in her seat excitedly, “What are they like? Are they nice? I think they would be snooty. I mean they’re so rich!”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden raises an eyebrow, watching her skirt hike higher and higher on her bare thighs. His thoughts of chivalry far from his mind at that moment, he reaches over placing his hand on her knee, sliding it up her supple thigh.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh!” Pauline is clearly taken by surprise by his sudden interest and bats her eyes at Jayden. She takes hold of his hand guiding it under her skirt, sliding closer to him on the back seat. His eyes never leaving her body, she watches him for a reaction.&lt;br /&gt;He playfully tugs at her panties, “We’re here.”&lt;br /&gt;She whimpers and tugs at the cab door leaving Jayden to settle things with the cabby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen71.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauline looks at the mostly empty lot a bit confused, she sways on her feet and turns to Jayden for answers. “What happened to your house?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden shrugs, “I haven’t built it yet. The land is paid for and eventually I’ll build a suitable house.”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline steps closer falling in to his arms, “So you live on your lawn… we can make love under the stars…”&lt;br /&gt;“Whoa, slow down Pauline… there will be no ‘love making’ under the stars or otherwise. You need to sleep this off.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen74.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden held her to him, he fought his urges but his body betrayed him. He tried everything he could think of to stifle his urges, his mind raced from one disgusting thing to another, ‘dead babies, Agnes Crumplebottom,’ his manhood stirred, okay maybe not Agnes.&lt;br /&gt;She giggled and moved her hips against him, “Something tells me you don’t want me to sleep it off either.”&lt;br /&gt;“Pauline…” He tried dissuading her, his words fell on deaf ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen75.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauline moans softly, “Alex, don’t make me beg…”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden sighs knowing his own needs and desires are matching hers. He would rather she be fully aware when he took her but there is always the morning for round 3 or 4. “What if I want you to beg, Pauline? What if that’s exactly what I want you to do?”&lt;br /&gt;She whimpers once more, “Then I’ll beg… is that what you want?”&lt;br /&gt;He grins mischievously, his lips inches from hers, “No. It isn’t what I want, Pauline.”&lt;br /&gt;Her voice soft, breathless, “What do you want, Alex?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen76.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden pulls her in to his embrace, pressing their bodies together. He kisses her deeply, tasting the alcohol on her lips. Their tongues dancing the dance of passion and hunger. His hands roam lower taking hold of her ass, he pulls her to him, letting her feel how much he wants her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen147.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Jayden, what are you doing?”&lt;br /&gt;He looks at her stunned, “What do you mean, what am I doing?”&lt;br /&gt;She looks behind her pointedly and back at him, “You know what I mean.” She takes a bite of her burger, chewing thoughtfully. “I thought better of you. I suppose I gave you too much credit.”&lt;br /&gt;He stares at her dumbfounded, “Give me a break! She threw herself at me. I didn’t pursue her, that was all her doing.” He takes a big bite and begins chewing defiantly.&lt;br /&gt;She stares at her tasteless sandwich in thought, “Perhaps… perhaps not… your flirting was far from innocent. You led her on. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been the one she called and you aren’t the one who she called out to…” She looks over her shoulder once more, setting her burger on the plate. “She loves Hank. You both know that. She’s going to regret this in the morning. Are you willing to let her go back to him when the sun rises?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen78.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks back at his sleeping self, noting how she had moved out of his arms. “I haven’t had a warm body in my bed in a long time. I guess I just wanted that again.”&lt;br /&gt;She laughs in amusement, “That isn’t all you wanted again… but yes, that is something you crave.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why are you doing this?” He looks back at her, puts his tasteless burger down and waits for an answer. “Why now? You’ve never done this to me before.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen148.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She shrugs and smiles, “You’ve never brought a woman home before. You’ve been, in your own demented way, faithful to that ungrateful bitch back in Riverview.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden burst out laughing, “Okay now I know you’re my dream girl and all, but seriously, that was harsh.” He shakes his head still chuckling and leans back, “So now what? What am I going to do with that one?” He nods behind him towards the sleeping duo.&lt;br /&gt;“You already know the answer to that.” She pulls her knees up and hugs them to her, she stares at him thoughtfully, “Not that you’ll listen to me. You’ve already made up your mind…”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden grins quietly, he lay back on his elbows and looks up at the stars, “Perhaps.”&lt;br /&gt;She laughs and smacks his leg, “You are going to burn in hell.”&lt;br /&gt;“Been there, done that… they have a room reserved just for me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen79.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden reaches out and pulls her towards him, kissing her neck softly, his arm snugly wrapped around her middle before he bites her shoulder playfully. She moans softly as she stirs, groaning instantly as the sun is rising and becoming brighter every minute. Disoriented, she opens her eyes, visually taking in her surroundings. She gasps as bits and pieces of the night’s events come flooding back to her.&lt;br /&gt;“Alex?”&lt;br /&gt;“Mhm…”&lt;br /&gt;“Did we…” She left the question hanging unsure how to approach the subject. She closes her eyes, willing the answer to be yes, yet dreading it at the same time. He chuckles softly in to her neck.&lt;br /&gt;“It couldn’t have been that memorable if you have to ask.” Jayden moves his hand from her waist to her hip giving it a quick squeeze before attempting to roll over.&lt;br /&gt;“I thought I was dreaming! It was such a vivid dream!”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden laughs and smacks her ass. “It wasn’t a dream, Pauline.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/duty-page-2.html"&gt;page 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-349056770394084065?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/349056770394084065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=349056770394084065&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/349056770394084065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/349056770394084065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/duty-calls.html' title='Duty calls'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-2808022069047756319</id><published>2009-06-30T16:01:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T13:52:47.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On the right track?</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen28.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His cell phone rang again. He looked at it for a while allowing his eyes to focus at the caller ID staring at an unknown phone number. Clicking the phone he answers, “Armstrong.”&lt;br /&gt;He grew quiet as he listened; it was a soft voice, feminine, smooth, silky, lilting. “Good morning, am I speaking with the man of the house? I represent-”&lt;br /&gt;He blinked and tried harder to concentrate on what she said. “Not intere-”&lt;br /&gt;The voice on the other end cut him off, the smoothness fading quickly as she became desperate. “Yes, I realize this may not be the most opportune time to call and for that I do apologize, if you could just give me a moment of your time I am sure that-”&lt;br /&gt;He rolls his eyes and sighs, “Listen, I tried being polite. Don’t force me to be rude.”&lt;br /&gt;There was a short pause on the other end of the line. “Thank you for your time.”&lt;br /&gt;He smiled despite himself, “You’re welcome. You have yourself a great day now.”&lt;br /&gt;Another short pause, it was as if he could almost hear her smile. “You’re very kind. I hope your day is wonderful as well.”&lt;br /&gt;He hung up; found himself grinning at the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen20.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His eyes scanned the want ads, falling quickly to the bottom ad for stadium workers. Jayden gave a bit of a snort. He would have to be a bit desperate to work at the stadium in any way other than an athlete. A fly flew past his face. He looked around him and chuckled. Well now, he appears to be desperate.&lt;br /&gt;As he went to toss the paper aside a rather large photo of a grinning buffoon caught his eye or more accurately the very familiar beautiful brunette clinging to his arm staring adoringly up at him is what caught his eye.&lt;br /&gt;Turning to the page he felt his stomach flip. ‘Most Eligible Bachelor will Marry at Last.’ With wide eyes he read on, shaking his head in disbelief. Constance, she wouldn’t… she couldn’t! He dropped the paper staring at his empty hands. “That bitch.” He walked towards his garden and punched an apple tree. He hissed as the bark cut in to his knuckles and punched it again. His mind numb, his knuckles going numb, he hit the tree again and again until he heard the distinct crack of the young sapling tree trunk.&lt;br /&gt;He stared at his hands briefly, threw on his sweats and shoes before heading out for a jog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen44.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden did his best thinking when he ran. Usually… Only today he ran all day and into the night feeling as if he hadn’t a coherent thought in his head. He heard nothing around him but his muttering thoughts. Was he really angry with Constance? No. Did he blame her for moving on and finding someone new and replacing him so easily? He grit his teeth and seethed, he wouldn’t mind so much had it been anyone else. Lothario… Constance Lothario… it was so wrong in so many ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen45.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was about an hour later that he felt his body protest very loudly. He headed towards home, his empty lot. Clenching his fists he resolved to do something at last about this life he had been handed. He will go after that job at the stadium, he will build a home, and he will get on with his life. If Constance could manage it, he could manage it. After all, he was a resourceful kind of guy. He’s lived and survived and relatively prospered on his lawn so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen39.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Aren’t you hungry?”&lt;br /&gt;She smiled softly, hesitant in her response. She looked at the basket of goodies and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I can eat.” She bit her lip thoughtfully, “I…”&lt;br /&gt;Mid bite he paused, “What is it, Babe?” He didn’t like this, he didn’t like this at all, something was wrong, something was off, he suddenly felt sweaty, and nervous. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together, okay?”&lt;br /&gt;She took a deep breath and blurted out her news, “I’m pregnant!” He put down his food and took her hand, she was shaking, he lifts her hand to his lips, kissing it softly and giving it a soft squeeze.&lt;br /&gt;“Babe, it’s okay, hell its great.” Well not really, his stomach was pitching and rolling, he felt sick to his stomach and wanted to hurl. His forehead broke out in a sweat; he wiped his palms on his jeans pretending there were crumbs from his burger.&lt;br /&gt;He stood up shakily from the blanket and took a few steps. He took a deep breath of the fresh air. “Ya… this is… great… so we, uh… yanno, raise the kid together and stuff.” He turned and looked at her, gave her a lopsided smile and reached out his hand to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen37.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She slowly walked to him, he took her hand in his, kissed it once more before going down on one knee, “So this is the part where I beg you to be mine. To offer you a… a ring…” He patted his pockets and found a square shape in his pocket… well now that was convenient. He pulled out the box and held it for her to see.&lt;br /&gt;“Babe. I uh… you know… and I hope you… well, accept this and we can live together and happily raise our brood.”&lt;br /&gt;She stares dumbfounded and surprised, her eyes never leaving the small box expectantly, waiting for him to reveal its contents to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen38.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He opens the box not sure what is inside. From her response he supposes it must be good, she tears up in her excitement, her hands fly to her full lips, squealing happily, “Yes! Oh yes!”&lt;br /&gt;The sweat gets worse, he feels so hot, he can feel how flush his skin must be. He draws the back of his hand across his forehead, the heat from his skin surprising him. She’s holding out her hand to him expectantly, barely containing her joy.&lt;br /&gt;He looks in the box at the object shining so brightly, his eyes close to slits as he strains to see it. Reaching in to the box his fingers touch something hard, cold, smooth, and vibrating. Groaning he answers the phone.&lt;br /&gt;“Armstrong.” His voice was husky with sleep.&lt;br /&gt;The voice hesitates, “Alex Armstrong?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes.”&lt;br /&gt;“This is Gina from Sunnyvale Stadium. We read over your application and would like to schedule an interview for Monday, say 10 am?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden sat up fully alert by this time and agreed immediately. He thanked her for the call and they hung up. He looked up at the sky and the sun that beat down on him. How late was it? He looked around him, it had to be at least noon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen48.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gave her a grin, “Pauline, looking as beautiful as ever.”&lt;br /&gt;She smiles back beaming, “Hi Alex.” Her sing-song voice exaggerating his name as usual, “when are you going to give in and go out with me?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden chuckles, gives her a knowing wink, “Maybe sooner than you think.”&lt;br /&gt;She stops their usual flirty banter and stares at him stunned, “Really?”&lt;br /&gt;He shrugs his broad shoulders, “Only if you were serious.”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline is flustered and flattered, “Wow.” She tries desperately to figure out if he really meant it or not but can’t read his face. She bites her lip self-consciously, her mind racing.&lt;br /&gt;He looks around distracted, “Have you seen Madison?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen49.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauline sighs dramatically, “Why would I care, Alex, really?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden raises an eyebrow, “What kind of response is that? Madison is a great girl… besides, I told her I’d train her today.” He looks around once more not seeing her, “at least I thought it was today…”&lt;br /&gt;This bit of insight gives Pauline renewed hope, “That is so sweet of you, Alex.” She glances around quickly, “Ya I don’t see her so you can skip training with her today and take me to an early dinner?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden chuckles, playfully pulls one of her pigtails, “Your fiancé wouldn’t care for that in the least.” He presses his lips to her forhead, kissing her softly, “I’m gonna get a work out anyhow. I’m getting too soft around the middle. Too much fast food!”&lt;br /&gt;Pauline sighs softly watching his retreating back, “If only more men looked as ‘soft’ as you…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen51.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden was pumped, he loved working out. It made him feel alive. To his surprise Madison did eventually show up at the gym. “Well now, and where have you been?” His intense gaze devouring her.&lt;br /&gt;Madison giggled nervously under his scrutiny, her face flushed with her soft blush, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it earlier.”&lt;br /&gt;He brushed the hair from her eyes and grinned, “It’s okay. You know me, I still get a good work out.”&lt;br /&gt;She bit her lip and allowed her eyes to take in his form briefly before that heated blush returned, “Yes. I see.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen52.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden raised an eyebrow, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were blossoming, Madison. My shy flower… are you budding? Is it time for you to show your potential and possibly bloom?”&lt;br /&gt;She giggled once more, lowering her eyes, not meeting his gaze and nodded shyly. Her voice soft, almost a whisper, “I did what you told me to do.”&lt;br /&gt;She glanced around nervously praying they weren’t over heard. Her voice so low he leaned in to hear her. He grinned triumphantly, “And?”&lt;br /&gt;She flushed once more, her voice caught in her throat, her knees weak she looked up at him with her innocent wide eyes, “It’s why I didn’t make it to our work out session. I can’t seem to stop.” She looks around again utterly embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;He gently kisses her cheek whispering in her ear, “Soon, you wont be alone…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen54.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her breath catches in her chest, “Will you…”&lt;br /&gt;She looks at Jayden hopefully leaving her request unspoken. The hunger, fear, and uncertainty burn in her eyes matching the hunger in his. He slides his arms around her pulling her body to his, ignoring the sweat from his work out, she shivers at his touch, he inhales deeply, sliding his hands down to her lower back and grabbing her hips firmly in both hands, “Only a fool would say no to an offer like that.”&lt;br /&gt;She whimpers, her breathing shallow, her full breasts heaving she tries to speak, her voice cut off with a gasp. He pulls her to him firmer, pressing himself against her showing her how much he wants her. Her voice raspy with her emotional and physical need for him, “Alex…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen53.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pressing his lips to hers, their soft kiss grows in passion and hunger. Tongues dancing, her splayed hands tentatively touching his back become more bold the longer the kiss lasts. She allows him to explore, trying to mimic him and his intensity. At last he pulls back and looks at her, his intense gaze burns through her, “You learn quickly.” He presses his groin against her, once more showing her his desire for her.&lt;br /&gt;“Tonight?” Her eyes search his hopefully, “Maybe?”&lt;br /&gt;He kisses her forehead and shakes his head. Softly kissing her full lips once more, “You’re not ready for me yet.” He releases her, stepping back and smiling. “You’re hunger is only beginning… soon, my flower… very soon.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="WIDTH: 452px; HEIGHT: 64px"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/index-page.html"&gt;Index Page&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/07/duty-calls.html"&gt;Next Entry&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-2808022069047756319?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/2808022069047756319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=2808022069047756319&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/2808022069047756319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/2808022069047756319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/stuff.html' title='On the right track?'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-6834024299990932502</id><published>2009-06-30T15:56:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T16:13:59.618-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Days went by...</title><content type='html'>Days, weeks, months flew by since Jayden arrived in Sunnyville. He had fallen in to a rut. His mornings were filled with gardening, he went to the market to sell his surplus vegetables, then to the gym to work out, shower and take care of his basic needs, last he would visit the library to look for a decent floor plan. He was looking scraggly. He hadn’t shaven and was in need of a haircut. One day as he looked in to the mirror at the gym, he didn’t know who it was staring back at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen18.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning he rose before the sun, cared for his garden until the hunger pangs hit. He winced and grabbed at his stomach sighing softly. The all too familiar waves of nausea washed over him. He waited for it to pass gripping the apple tree branch for support.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly he pulled himself upright, inhaling the fresh air deep in to his lungs. He watched fascinated at the colors of the sky while the sun rose. “Beautiful…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen19.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grabbing an apple from the tree he bit in to it, chewing slowly. He stood at the top of his cliff watching a boat sail many miles beneath him. Fascinated with the mysteries of life, he began fantasizing lives for these unknowns. The red boat is filled with beautiful women wearing skimpy bikinis, lathering sunscreen on each other’s skin. He grinned imagining them.&lt;br /&gt;He spotted a large white yacht knowing it would most definitely have scantily clad women and more sunscreen to be…&lt;br /&gt;He abruptly cut off his train of thought, shook his head and laughed at himself. He needed woman. He turned back to his garden, grabbing his sack of vegetables to be sold at the market and headed for town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen14.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden went for a jog. He was on his way to the library once more to peruse the internet for floor plans in hopes to find a suitable home. He cut through the park as he customarily did, only to plow in to a woman. His mind so occupied he hadn’t noticed her. He knocked her back a bit, instinctively he reached out for her, grabbing her, pulling her to him, both of their eyes wide with surprise. “Sorry about that. I don’t know where my head is… are you okay?”&lt;br /&gt;A bit winded she put her hand on his chest to steady herself. The heat from his body radiated underneath her fingertips. “I… I’m… okay?” She looked up at him questioningly and he chuckled. Steadying her on her feet he stepped back and extended his hand.&lt;br /&gt;“I’m Alex.”&lt;br /&gt;She smiles, taking the offered hand, “I’m Shannon. I am on my way to work. We’ll have to run in to each other again sometime.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden laughs easily waving over his shoulder at her. “Have fun at work!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen07.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He slowed his pace. ‘Feast or famine,’ he thought as he took in her looks with a brief appreciative glance.&lt;br /&gt;She caught the look and raised an eyebrow. His easy grin slipping easily in place, starting his introductions once more, “Hi, I-”&lt;br /&gt;“Save it. I’m sure some giggly girl will be along shortly that will care who you are.”&lt;br /&gt;He laughed openly, shaking his head. Jayden had been put in his place. She was a feisty one. “Fair enough. In the meantime, you’re here and a girl is not.” Once more her eyebrow shoots up, this time accompanied by an amused grin. “Name’s Alex, I’ll see you around.” With a quick wink, he moved to go around her, their arms brushing against each other. No point in conversing with someone who has no interest in speaking with you.&lt;br /&gt;She spoke to his retreating back, “Be at the park tonight… 9… don’t be late.” He stopped short, did he hear right? He turned to ask her but she was gone. He looked around finding she was no where in sight and scratched his head confused.&lt;br /&gt;His pace slowed considerably, his mind swimming with the possibilities. This could be a set up, this could be the start of a great friendship, this could be the night he gets some. He stopped and grinned. One way to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen30.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t want to appear anxious or desperate yet he wasn’t keen on being late either. He found himself in a bit of a dilemma. He spotted her easy enough. She was strolling through the park glancing occasionally at the starry night sky. He walked up behind her glancing at the sky as well. “It’s a beautiful night.”&lt;br /&gt;She didn’t skip a step, didn’t flinch in fear, kept strolling easily, confident, assured, “It is. I love the park at night. No crowds, plenty of fresh air, and the view of the sky is breathless.”&lt;br /&gt;They continued walking together in a comfortable silence. She finally broke the silence. “You’re either too trusting, desperate, or foolish.”&lt;br /&gt;He shrugged, “None of the above.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen32.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stopped and turned towards him. He had her full attention now. “Oh?” She smiled and leaned in, inhaling. “You showered. A sure sign of desperation.”&lt;br /&gt;He threw his head back and laughed, “I showered as a sure sign of perspiration. If you recall, I had been out jogging.”&lt;br /&gt;She stepped closer to him, he could feel her breath on his neck. They touched with out touching, their bodies inches apart, he swallowed hard. Making no move towards her following her lead, she lifts her face to him, her lips parted. His eyes searching hers for any sign of what she wanted from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen35.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leans forward, their cheeks inches apart, his breath tickling her ear, “Curious.”&lt;br /&gt;Her breath caught in a small gasp, “I see.” She softly placed a hand on his shoulder, running her lips lightly across his jaw, lifting her face towards him once more.&lt;br /&gt;His hands found her slender waist, guiding her closer to him, she didn’t resist, she lifted herself up on tippy toes softly pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. He looked at her with a small smirk and leaned in once more for another kiss, this one grew hungrier with their passion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen36.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pressed her body to his, feeling how much he wanted her. She moaned, matching his hunger with her own, their tongues dancing together. At long last she pulls back breathlessly and smiles, “RiiIIiiing.”&lt;br /&gt;He leaned in for one more kiss before suggesting a more private location, when he was abruptly and rudely interrupted by his cell phone. He groped under his pillow for his cell phone. He pulled himself up in to a sitting position, ran his hand through his hair and looked around his empty lot sighing to himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="WIDTH: 452px; HEIGHT: 64px"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/index-page.html"&gt;Index Page&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/stuff.html"&gt;Next Entry&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-6834024299990932502?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/6834024299990932502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=6834024299990932502&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/6834024299990932502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/6834024299990932502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/days-went-by.html' title='Days went by...'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-2727634421267321321</id><published>2009-06-23T14:03:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T12:53:49.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Arriving... Page 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen02.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He made it at last. He stared in amazement at the lot. There was no way this could be the right address, he had to be wrong. The view was breathtaking. He pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket once more and noted the address on the side of the mailbox, 15 Summer Hill Court. He let out a low whistle as he took in the view once more. He walked to the edge of the plot of land, his plot of land and looked over the cliff at the ocean below.&lt;br /&gt;Dropping his bag under a nearby tree, he sat leaning against it for a few hours simply taking in the sight.&lt;br /&gt;He winced and looked around. He stunk. He needed a shower desperately. His new ‘home’ was an empty lot. Not a stick of furniture, not even four walls and a roof. Glancing behind him at the massive empty lot he grinned. It may be empty, he thought, but it’s his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen05.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He grabbed up his bag and headed back to town. A shower would be very good right now. His stomach rumbled… or more accurately his bowels. A toilet would be good, too. Like a fish to water, he found himself in front of the gym. He chuckled. Figures out of everything in town, he would end up here instinctively. His stomach gurgled again. Without hesitation he high tailed it inside in search of the men’s locker room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen06.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden stopped in his tracks. She took his breath away and she knew it from the taunting look she cast at him. He let out a low whistle of appreciation and grinned at her. Batting her eyes she walked towards the women’s locker room. Giving him a courtesy glance over the shoulder as he watched her walk, she paused, slowing her pace, a typical move by a woman that wants to be approached. Noting he made no move towards her, she tossed her hair with a huff and went through the door.&lt;br /&gt;Chuckling he went to the men’s locker room. He was in no hurry to find a woman. After losing Constance, his heart wasn’t ready for another round with heartache. Besides, what did he have to offer a woman at this time? A big empty lot, an empty bank account, a fake name and no job… Jayden was definitely a catch for some lucky lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen08.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden stood in the shower letting the hot water roll over his aching body. Running his fingers through his hair he could feel the stress of the past few days slip away. As he bathed he made mental notes of what he needed to accomplish in the near future. There were so many things he needed to do. He felt overwhelmed.&lt;br /&gt;First things first… he needed money. He couldn’t simply live off of free park food handouts, apples and eventually the owner of the gym will notice he’s taking his showers here every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen03.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden had stopped by the library on his way home. Home, the sound of it still sounded absurd to him given there wasn’t an actual building on the lot. He perused it carefully noting the ‘what to do’ and ‘what not to do’s about gardening.&lt;br /&gt;While walking around his lot he noticed a small neglected garden. He figured he could nurture this garden and perhaps grow his own food. He hadn’t thought to be a vegetarian, but if he was going to survive this, he wasn’t going to be too picky. He glanced across the street noting the pond and made another mental note to find himself a pole and tackle. Maybe he could take up fishing… of course there is the issue of a way to actually cook the fish. Sighing he put the book in his bag, went under the trees threw the strap over a branch hoisting it up and settled in to take a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen11.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow was another day… maybe he’ll get lucky and find an odd job somewhere. Oh ya, his luck was changing for the better… he could feel it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="WIDTH: 452px; HEIGHT: 64px"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/index-page.html"&gt;Index Page&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/days-went-by.html"&gt;Next Entry&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-2727634421267321321?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/2727634421267321321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=2727634421267321321&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/2727634421267321321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/2727634421267321321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/arriving-page-2.html' title='Arriving... Page 2'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-2687139254206047049</id><published>2009-06-23T13:34:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T20:43:31.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Arriving in Sunnyvale</title><content type='html'>Jayden kept his head down and slunk low in the back of the cab. The sun was just coming up when they passed the wreck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro12.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He let out a low whistle which got the old cabbie’s attention. Glancing out the window he agreed, “Ayup. Some guy was killed in that accident. A real shame too. He was said to be a promising up and coming athlete. Woulda been nice to have a Riverview boy make it to the big time.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden stared out the window at the car as they passed it. So they made good on their word. Jayden Wilson is dead. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen01.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhausted Jayden leans his head back and closes his eyes. It was a long flight from Riverview. Feeling the taxi slow as it approached town, he sat up to take a better look at his new surroundings. The taxi pulled up to the park. Jayden flashes her with a grin and hands the driver some simoleans. “Thanks.”&lt;br /&gt;He waved her off as she tried to give him his change. Her eyes light up at the generous tip, “Welcome to Sunnyvale!”&lt;br /&gt;Now to find his contact and start the rest of his life. He stretched upon exiting the taxi, grabbed his small duffel slinging it over his shoulder, glancing both ways before trotting across the street to enter the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen04.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He strolled around the park, taking in the sights. He stopped near the small lake noting the clarity of the water, the fish swimming lazily and the sudden rumbling of his empty stomach. Rubbing his stomach idly he walked on spotting apple trees in the park. Plucking a few beautifully ripe red apples he threw some in his bag and bit in to one, enjoying the juice as it coated his parched throat.&lt;br /&gt;The sun was slowly setting and still no sign of a contact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen16.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was standing looking around aimlessly as a figure approached. Startled out of his thoughts, he grins at the woman. “Hi. I’m… uh… Alex.”&lt;br /&gt;The woman giggles self consciously, looking around him a bit, “Hi, I’m Judy?” He tilts his head looking at her, wondering why when she introduced herself it sounded more like a question than a response. She pointed behind him, “I’m sorry, you’re standing in front of the trashcan. Mind if I get past you?”&lt;br /&gt;At this Jayden simply had to laugh. He hadn’t realized where he stood. “Of course! Sorry about that.” Stepping aside out of Judy’s way, he grinned at her sheepishly.&lt;br /&gt;Judy threw her trash in to the receptacle and addressed Jayden once more with the same hesitation as before. “Are… are you new around here?” Her eyes widen as a deep blush rose to her cheeks, quickly she rambled on. “I mean, I haven’t seen you around town before and I realize I don’t know everyone but I do know a lot of people and I thought you looked more like you’re lost and if you are, maybe I know where you need to go and…”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden held up a hand and chuckled. His ease and charm made her relax visibly, “I give! One question at a time, yes I am new to town. I just arrived and I’m waiting for someone.”&lt;br /&gt;Judy’s blush deepened, lowering her eyes, she bit her lip. Jayden couldn’t help but grin at her reaction. He assumed she doesn’t get a lot of attention from ‘strange’ men. A large man both in height and stature approached the two. Jayden’s grin widened noting the stormy look in his eyes. This would be the husband of course. He extended his hand to the gentleman immediately and without hesitation, smoothly diffusing the situation. “Hello. I’m Alex. Judy here was kind enough to welcome a new comer as myself to the neighborhood.”&lt;br /&gt;Judy’s blush deepened, Beau stopped short of blowing a gasket and looked at Alex’s hand. Shaking the offered hand, he mumbled a name and a half hearted greeting followed by an excuse to take his wife and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen15.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden breathed easier as soon as they were out of ear shot. “Smooth.” Jumping as his contact finally approached. “Relax, you’re in good hands.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden could not help but chuckle, “You look like a cliché.”&lt;br /&gt;Simply rolling her eyes, she hands him a slip of paper. “As if I haven’t heard that one before. Here, this is the address to your land. It’s up to you now. Your life is in your hands. Do with it what you will, be a success, be a hermit, be the talk of the town.” She nods at the retreating backs of Judy and Beau, “be a Casanova. It’s your choice.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden stared at the slip of folded paper and tucked it in to his front pocket. “Thanks. So that’s it?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, that’s it. Good luck.”&lt;br /&gt;He shook his head slowly, “I’m only good at one thing. I’ve always been an athlete.”&lt;br /&gt;She touched his arm briefly to get his attention, “Alex. No more basketball. They’ll find you. If you want to be an athlete fine… only you’ll have to pick a new sport.”&lt;br /&gt;He blinked a few times, no more basketball? No more? It’s all he knew from the time he was big enough to hold a ball. Well there was that time in college when they tried to talk him in to soccer. “Do they have a soccer team?”&lt;br /&gt;“You bet. You’ll do fine.” She pulled a small pad from her inside pocket, wrote something on it, tore the slip from the pad and handed it to him. “That is the address to the stadium and the name of the coach.” She looked around a bit nervously, “I have to go. I’ve been exposed for too long. Hang out at the park for a while, it would do you good to meet some of your neighbors.”&lt;br /&gt;He looked at the new slip of paper in his hand and closed his fist around it. He had a shimmer of hope for the first time in weeks. When he looked up to thank her, she was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/02%20Gen%201/01Gen09.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His stomach rumbled. He sniffed the air. He could smell the meaty goodness everywhere. He wandered around the park. Nodding at some until a random woman handed him a plate. He raised an eyebrow and she laughed, “It’s good, I made it myself. Go on.”&lt;br /&gt;“Thanks.” Setting his bag down, he dug in to his food, savoring each bite. Tri-tip. It was excellent. It wasn’t until he finished his meal that he raised his head, noting the park was emptying. He glanced at his watch noting the ‘late’ hour and looked around once more in amazement. Apparently this small town rolled up the carpet before midnight. He took his plate and tossed it in the trash, grabbing his bag holding his few meager possessions he headed for the road to look for this new plot of land of his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/arriving-page-2.html"&gt;page 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-2687139254206047049?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/2687139254206047049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=2687139254206047049&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/2687139254206047049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/2687139254206047049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/arriving-in-sunnyvale.html' title='Arriving in Sunnyvale'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-581521594651355155</id><published>2009-06-23T10:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T12:50:31.764-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The day started... Page 3</title><content type='html'>The days following were like a whirlwind. Testifying against Angel Lobos, his coach, his mentor, his friend. He felt as if he betrayed the one man he knew the best, to find he didn’t know him at all. Angel Lobos, mob muscle. Who knew? Remaining under protection was the worse part. No gym, no swimming, no going to his usual haunts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro18.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah gave him his new identity, she gave him a bit of money and a new location. “That’s it? I give up my life, my safety… for this?”&lt;br /&gt;“Come along Jayden, we aren’t through with you yet.”&lt;br /&gt;He sighed loudly and followed along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro20.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked in the mirror. “You are no longer Jayden Wilson, power forward to the Riverview Wormrats.”&lt;br /&gt;He looked at Hannah apprehensively, “So who am I?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro21.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah handed him the papers, “You are Alex. Alex Armstrong, you now live in Sunnyvale. You will be given some land and funds. Your country thanks you for your assistance. Good luck.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="WIDTH: 452px; HEIGHT: 64px"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/index-page.html"&gt;Index Page&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/arriving-in-sunnyvale.html"&gt;Next Entry&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-581521594651355155?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/581521594651355155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=581521594651355155&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/581521594651355155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/581521594651355155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-started-page-3.html' title='The day started... Page 3'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-5145023822333267994</id><published>2009-06-23T10:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:58:57.213-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The day started... Page 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro15.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game was a disaster. Don shined while he looked like such an amateur. Karma is a bitch and he had it coming. He never should have treated Constance that way. Sure he needed her but maybe she needed him to understand. Maybe he over reacted. Maybe. He had to find her. He simply needed to find out why. Don was offered the job in the pros. Jayden was beside himself with guilt and regret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro09.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Constance wasn’t at the gym. Why would she be? It was late. His stomach cramped. He still hadn’t eaten. Nausea kicked in. He gripped his middle wincing. He growled to no one in particular, “Okay. I get it. I was an ass. Can I get some slack? Just a little? Huh?!”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden left the gym and went to Constance’s home, to her favorite spots, any where he could imagine she may be at this late hour. She was no where to be found. He refused to go home. He couldn’t rest until he found her and begged her for forgiveness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro19.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He camped camping on her front porch. Morning broke and he still hadn’t found her. He made the rounds once more of her favorite places. Where could she be? He felt desperate. Panic welled in his chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro16.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden’s luck was changing. He finally caught up to Constance at her parent’s home. She was tending their garden when he walked up. “Constance!”&lt;br /&gt;Constance didn’t bother looking up at him, “Yes, Jayden.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden ran up to her, relief flooding him at finding her safe fighting the urge to grab her and shake her for worrying him. “I’m sorry. I should have let you tell me why you weren’t coming to the game. I should have listened. I was a jerk. I… I’m sorry.”&lt;br /&gt;Constance stood, wiping her soiled hands on her pants and looked at him. Was that sadness in her eyes? He wasn’t sure. Karma. She’s a cruel, cold hearted bitch. He reached out for her, she shrunk back from him shaking her head, “I’ve met someone. It’s over.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro17.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden was thrown. His anger barely maintained, “You met someone… who? Who!”&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes narrowed and she turned her back on him, “Angel. Angel Lobos.”&lt;br /&gt;He shook his head slowly, “Coach?”&lt;br /&gt;Constance looked back to him once more, urgency in her words and actions. “Run Jayden. They will be looking for you. Nadine’s death wasn’t an accident. They’re looking for you.”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden was taken aback. Not an accident, Angel, Nadine, Constance. What was she saying? Sirens could be heard in the distance. His eyes widened. “Con…”&lt;br /&gt;Tears in her eyes she shook her head and pushed him away, “Run, Jayden. Be safe. Run!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-started-page-3.html"&gt;page 3 &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-5145023822333267994?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/5145023822333267994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=5145023822333267994&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/5145023822333267994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/5145023822333267994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-started-page-2.html' title='The day started... Page 2'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8592103247386947112.post-4033129087652191522</id><published>2009-06-22T16:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:59:20.156-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The day started as any other day.</title><content type='html'>His routine dictated his day. Go to the gym by 10 am for a light work out, a quick swim, a shower, grab an apple and off to work by 3 pm. He glanced at his watch, and picked up the pace. He was off by three minutes, if he didn’t get there on time, Don would get to the machine before he did. It wasn’t as if there weren’t other machines, that one was simply his favorite and Lothario knew it. Some may think him superstitious, and that suited Jayden just fine. What athlete out there today doesn’t have a routine, a set way of doing things, a pattern of game day good luck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro00.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He liked this particular gym. They knew him there, it was clean and it’s where he met Constance. Thinking of her always managed to put a smile on his face. He was taking it slow with this one. She’s a keeper. One of those nice girls you take home to meet your Mom. She was good for his professional image. She is the epitome of a devoted girlfriend sitting in the stands cheering on the power forward as he dribbles down the field.&lt;br /&gt;Jayden got to the gym, stopped at his locker and froze. Staring at the lock on his favorite locker he shivered. “Bad omen.” Slowly opening the locker to the right, he sets his bag inside, changes, closes it putting his lock on the door and backs away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro01.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glancing at his watch, he takes the stairs two at a time. He’s faced with the site of the inevitable. Don Lothario is on his favorite machine. He shakes his head wondering what else can go wrong today. Heading in to the side classroom to stretch he passes another teammate, of sorts. Gloria plays for the women’s team. Both teams share the stadium. He’s slightly taken aback by her expression. Not sure what her husband just said to cause such a response in her, he steers clear and starts his yoga stretching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro02.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden tried desperately to get his mind back on track. Tonight was a big night for him, for the team. A couple of scouts were attending and he had to be on his game. It was his chance for the big time… his or Don’s.&lt;br /&gt;“Jay?”&lt;br /&gt;He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn’t hear the door open. His ready smile instantly in place and lost just as quickly. Gloria was on the verge of crying. He opened his arms and she went to him. He wrapped his arms around her and let her sob. Her tears were hot on his bare skin, her face buried in his strong chest, long dark tresses hiding her face, her strong petite hands splayed across his back clinging to him.&lt;br /&gt;Jayden did his best to console her as he often has, “Glo, when are you going to leave him? You deserve so much more. You deserve a man that will treasure you and treat you like the wonderful woman you are.”&lt;br /&gt;Gloria scoffed through her tears, never moving from his embrace, “Someone like you? You’re already taken, remember?”&lt;br /&gt;Her words were muffled by his chest, yet he heard them clearly enough. Jayden held her to him, comforting her, his right hand had been rubbing her back to console her stopped and his body stiffened defensively. “Glo…”&lt;br /&gt;Gloria kissed his chiseled chest, her hands ran smoothly over his skin, her voice soft, barely audible over the music playing around them. “Its okay, Jay, I’ll be fine.”&lt;br /&gt;“Glo…”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden’s eyes pleaded with her to stay as she backed away shaking her head. “I’m fine.” She plastered a fake smile on her face, one that clearly did not reach her eyes, she turned, ran out of the room crying fresh tears and out of sight. Jayden felt like a heel and sighed. His mind shot, his stress level rising, he gave up and went to the locker room to change in to his trunks. Maybe a few laps around the pool will clear his head.&lt;br /&gt;Slipping in to the cool water of the pool, he relaxed for the first time that day. He grinned at the girls playing and the woman who was watching over them before starting his laps. Some time between the entering the water, swimming twenty-five laps and hearing the little girl’s horrified scream, tragedy struck Riverview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro03.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jayden was exiting the pool when he heard her scream, he turned to look at what would frighten the little girl and saw the woman fighting the water for dear life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro04.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without thinking he dove back in to the water and dragged her out. He laid her on her side, thwapped her back firmly a few times in an attempt to dislodge the water. He looked up at the girl still crying and sent her to look for help. He slid the motionless body on her back and began CPR.&lt;br /&gt;By the time help arrived it was too late. She had slipped away. Jayden stared at the woman as recognition struck him at last. “Nadine.”&lt;br /&gt;The paramedic looked at him questioningly, “You know this woman?”&lt;br /&gt;Jayden was shaken from his thoughts, answering questions as best he could without divulging too much personal insight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro05.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He glanced around the room, standing pool side still dazed by the day’s event. Irene walked out of the women’s locker room. She had no idea she just lost her mother, his heart ached for the girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro06.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wilson, you’re going to be late.”&lt;br /&gt;“Coach?”&lt;br /&gt;His look said volumes, Jayden simply nodded and walked away. Naturally, where there was Nadine, Angel wasn’t too far away. The pretense of their daughters being best friends, what better excuse did they need to spend together?&lt;br /&gt;What a day. It had to get better. Wrong locker, wrong work out, possibly losing a dear friend, a death in the pool of his coach’s lover… what more could happen? He’s always been deemed as a lucky guy. How lucky was he that tragedy was all around him today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro07.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Jayden…” Constance hesitated to interrupt his carefully planned game day schedule but from the look on her face, it couldn’t wait.&lt;br /&gt;Jayden flashed his patent grin at her, relieved to see a friendly familiar face. He hugged her tight, his voice lost in her hair, “Constance, I’m glad to see you.”&lt;br /&gt;Her body was stiff and unresponsive, rather unlike her. He closed his eyes, inhaling her scent before letting her go. He looked at her, lost in her gaze noting her discomfort. He took a step back, distancing himself to what could only be more bad news. “You wanted to speak to me.” It wasn’t a question. It was written on her face.&lt;br /&gt;Constance fidgeted awkwardly, “I wont be at the game, Jayden.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro08.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The hurt and frustration was clearly written on his face. He shrugged noncommittally before walking away. “No problem, Constance. It’s only the most important game of my career. I’ll see you later.”&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t turn back. He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. Childish, selfish, hurtful words… they were out there now and there was no making amends. He didn’t care. He had a schedule to get back on, nothing was going right. Nothing. If his own girlfriend couldn’t be there for him then so be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro14.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He showered slowly, his schedule already shot. He was late for the game, they’d all be in the dressing room by now. He didn’t care. His life was thrown in to turmoil. He stood in the shower for too long, the water began to turn cold. Cursing his stupidity he quickly finished bathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro13.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On his way out of the guy he received strange looks. He was accustomed to people staring at him, only these stares were different. Almost accusing… Accusing him of what exactly he had no clue. He brushed it off for later. He had to get to the stadium. Fate was waiting for him. Scouts would be watching him. That should be his focus, not strangers. Not today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/ot_fwah/armstrong/01%20Intro/intro10.jpg" width="650" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The perks of being the star player, the attention, the fame, the fans, the limo… he could get used to this. He picked up the pace once more. His stomach grumbled. He forgot his apple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-started-page-2.html"&gt;page 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8592103247386947112-4033129087652191522?l=armalega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/feeds/4033129087652191522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8592103247386947112&amp;postID=4033129087652191522&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/4033129087652191522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8592103247386947112/posts/default/4033129087652191522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armalega.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-started-as-any-other-day.html' title='The day started as any other day.'/><author><name>Roo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16115267741547198666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iwjg1YlZt9E/TUmjBDtr38I/AAAAAAAAAZw/__OIE4Rr8Z0/s220/new%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
